Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Dwarmin]

OOC: Time to get this wagon rolling! I'm going to expedite the whole getting into the fort thing. Which means my writing will be rushed, bleh.

Quick Turn
@Rhogar, Saren

The two lizardfolk meet outside the camp to the west...no one followed you. The Orc Camp and the way to the Fortress of Blood lies a bit a way to the North...your allies, if they're coming, should be here momentarily.

@Feleris

Feleris finds Halbarad packing up his potion making equipment in his tent-preparing to move camp, probably.

His face doesn't betray anything except mild anxiety.

"Feleris? What is it?"

@Ochita

The Lizardman dashes off, and then the Elf...leaving you alone.

In the path of the dark armored woman and her entourage.

She approaches Ochita with a cold grin, idly swinging her mace in front of her. She gestures to Ochita.

"You. Who are you?

I don't think I caught your name..."

@Goseki

You maintain your position in absolute silence-Stromgand seems to be gesturing toward the Orc Encampment, riling up the camp in preperation for an attack.

Your bones will surely ache in the morning, but what is pain to a Sakane?

Nothing but the wind and rain, immaterial and motionless.

@Rykmar

You spend the next few days working on Cria. Which mostly consists of listening to stories of her undoubtly miserable life, and giving her reassurance. It's extremely taxing on the nerves. After a few days, she trusts you enough to invite you to set up your tent near hers. She doesn't approach you in an intimate fashion yet, but you catch the longing, hungry stares from the corner of your eye. You wonder why she just doesn't get on with it.

To your infernal delight, your relationship with her gradually changes as you apply subtle pressure-a reassuring pat, or a cold turn of the head helping to enforce your will. She stops calling you 'Rykmar' after a few days, opting for 'Master Rykmar'. A few days later, it's just 'Master'. She follows your orders obediently, and even shows a shaky form of intiative-she shows you a small hint of her Necromantic powers.

Apparently the skeletal hand she wears on her belt is actually an undead pet that can be animated on will, to act as a spy-Rykmar tests the things strength and deduces it could also be a vile way to kill someone. Crias powers are significant, and the small thing has surprising power-enough to crush a windpipe, surely. It also can move, climb and sneak with nary a sound...

Tasty.

Days pass, nights fall-you prefer camp rations over dipping into your personal stock, naturally. It is one of those fairly pleasant nights, somewhat less so with Crias misery dragging your mood down, when things change for the worse...later, you'll remember how everything went downhill, as Stromgand called everyone in for a meeting in the center of camp...

[IronyOwl]

((Of course, your rushed writing is still longer and better than most's full deal, so...))

Attend this meeting with Cria.

[Dwarmin]

You and Cria attend with the rest of the adventurers-you wait for the perfect moment to make a dramatic entrance, where everyone can see you.

The stares are cruel enough.The Demon and Necromancer, how scandalous.

Rykmar holds Crias hand in full view of the mob, challenging anyone to speak out against them. Most of them drop their gaze rather then meet his. He finds himself feeling her feelings-and he also hates them, not just because as Humans, but because they don't understand what it's like, to be a Necromancer, or a Demon-to be outcasts from a hateful world.

Rykmar uses this moment to forge an even deeper bond with Cria. He can feel her gratitude, and her love? Or something close enough to it. Now you are her Protector...her friend and confidant, you and her against a hostile world...really, this is almost too easy. Cria is lucky she remains useful to you, otherwise you feel you could break her heart and spirit right here, just to watch the expression on her face as she loses her sanity...how devious, how evil! Delightful.

At least, that's what you tell yourself. You are sure you don't feel anything for her-except a small amount of pity, like one would a wounded animal that should be killed in mercy. Surely.

But then why does protecting her against this hateful peasant rabble make him feel so...good? Is it more of those Paladins devious words, having driven into him like a disease? Or something worse?

...

Stromgand eventually speaks, driving the attention to him with force of will.

"Let's get to business. Bad news, people-there's a bunch of Gods damned Orckin in OUR way! Blocking our path to the Fortress of Blood.

They're going to attack us in the morning-my...scouts have already determined it. So, why wait? Let's go and show them what happens to who stands in our way. Let's hit them FIRST! Before they hit us!"

Rykmar blinks. This isn't like a general rallying troops-it's like a chef trying to coax an animal into an oven. He's not even giving concrete information-just relying on second hand knowledge...well, he deserves some kudos. It's clear Stromgand intends for the masses to toss themselves against the Orcs, ridding him of many trouble makers in the process.

Rykmar notices most of Stromgands followers are not even in the mob. Ha! The Prince of Pride would give this man a seat of Honor for such a clever ruse. But, what will Rykmar do? Surely he won't join the slaughter..

Cria speaks up.

"M..mmaster? I can smell...I can smell the death to come. I can feel it. I can...use it...we can make soldiers...for our army...heh...heh.."

She chuckles in an odd way. Hmm. Her feelings say she's telling the absolute Truth. Lots of people are going to die, and very soon.

Rykmar had no idea Cria had the ability to sense Death, to the level of Prophecy...usually only the Highest Level Necromancers, or Liches and Arch-Liches have that ability.

Very interesting.

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar smiled at Cria. "Thank you, that should be very useful."

His mind wandered briefly to all the delicious horrors she could probably make, especially with his coaxing. Yes... their journey into the Fortress of Blood would be a well-armed one indeed.

Snapping back to the more present concern, he hummed thoughtfully while staring at Stromgand. His first impulse was to reveal him for the charlatan that he was- a simple, overly loud question about when he would be personally leading the charge was probably all it would take- but now he wasn't certain what the purpose would be. Claiming the group for himself would be somewhat difficult with his current reputation, even after casting down their old leader, and the rabble wouldn't be all that more competent under his command in any case. Potentially he could negotiate his way through or sneak his way around, but then there'd be no parts for his precious Cria.

Plus, if Stromgand, and especially his lieutenant, decided to push the issue by force, he didn't think he'd want to push back. Against this group, he could probably spin such an act as chasing away a foul demon and vile necromancer, rather than the dodging around and silencing the issue that it was. Hm. Perhaps these fools deserved their fate anyway? On the other hand, so did Stromgand, for daring to not court such an obvious power as him. Did he not care, or did he really think he'd be rid of him by tossing him against orcs?


Displeased by his inability to turn this situation more to his advantage, Rykmar simply snorted derisively, loud enough for those around him to hear, and then turned and walked away with Cria, his expression one of disdain. He'd leave these fools to their fate, but he'd sting Stromgand with his obvious departure first.


Leave, disdainfully and in a noticeable manner.

[Tiruin]

"Halbarad, my friend. I've met some trustworthy people as of late, and I have dire news that I'd think you might wish to hear." Fel said in hushed tones.

He waited for a reply, but it seemed that Halbarad wanted to listen.

"We have a suspicion, that the camp meeting is naught but a trap. We suspect that Stromgand wants to kill all those who aren't in line with him, through treason or false information, I do not know. But what I do know is his general plan for breaching the defenses of the Fortress.

"What we are going to do, is fight like Hell-and hope whoever is left can claim the prize!" Feleris said, in his best impression of Stromgand.

He saw Halbarad chuckle and continued. "Now I think that by now, the meeting has already started as I've seen some of his lackeys enforcing the call. My friends are trying to convince Angvard about the dangers present, our hope lies with him and not with the oaf of a ranger as he holds knowledge about the Fortress of Blood. Please Halbarad, convince your men to turn aside, do not underestimate Stromgand, the rabble he leads more than makes up for his incompetence and I am loathe to see anyone die by him, or those who follow him. Either way, there will be death come the following morn."


Something was still on his mind, was it the army of orcs ahead or the fact that his hope of saving them all was dwindling every minute of inaction.

Then he remembered.

"And we also may have a demon in the camp." He finished, remembering what he saw earlier.

[micelus]

"I couldn't find our companions...no time to look for them now. I guess we should leave..."

Saren looked back to the camp for a moment, then followed  Rhogar out of the camp, should he go.

[Dwarmin]

Halbarad nods. He may be young, but there is a measure of wisdom in him-and steel will.

"I guess it was only a matter of time...

Stromgand is a fool, as you say-but he has a way with words. Many of them follow him, because they do not know have any better alternative.

 I fear he will no doubt use the opportunity to treat as enemies in the future. If only because we have defied him. He and his men will not hesitate to take advantage of us in the fortress if we chance to meet again."

Halbarad straps a long blade into his back sheath, and puts his box like helmet on.

"I'll get word to as many of our friends as possible, and make swift our escape.  Hopefully we can bypass the majority of the Orcs, in small groups...I suggest you gather your friends and sneak past the Orc encampments in the Hills. Ironically, the main attack will no doubt draw many Orcish reinforcements from their outposts..."


Halbarad motions to a map on South wall of his tent-it's quite old, frayed around the edges-it shows a roughly hexagonal walled fortress, which can be guessed to be the outer layout of the Fortress of Blood.

He points to a spot off to one side-a light blue "X' indicating a good spot for campsite-under the shelter of the Northern Cliffs that ring the Fortress.

"This is where we will gather, assuming any of us make it through-and that this map is not a complete fraud. From here..."

He traces a line with his finger-from the shelter in a straight line through the wall (Feleris can see a page from an even older journal, with a citation 'Section of Outer Wall Missing? Dwarf Miners said they saw a chasm within the Fortress boundries. Those who explored didn't come out...')

"...to here, is where I intend to begin my search. If the walls are guarded-and I'm assuming they are-we should be able to bypass them...after that, it gets tricky. We'll save that for later...if there is one."

He claps a hand on Feleris shoulder. and smiles.

"You must go now, my friend. If none of us make it to the rendevous, don't feel bad going on ahead. I'd rather someone like you get the Source than the others..."

At that, he turns back to his gear-strapping on a bandoleer of alchemic potions across his chest in conical steel sheaths. He grings, and digs in pack one more time, and tosses Feleris a sort of cold yellow rod-not quite metal, though-it's almost like wax. It's slightly warm right now.

"A suitable parting gift, my friend! It's called a Sunrod, my own invention. It absorbs energy from sunlight, and shines like a torch when you speak the command word 'Solara'.."

As soon as he says it, the torch does flare into a brilliant glow, forcing Feleris to squint, as his sensitive Elven eyes are stung. You both laugh easily

"As you can see, it's quite bright! To turn it off, just say 'Lunara'. Don't worry-it will only respond to your voice after you've held it for awhile, like I've done with that one. Useful in the dark places where we are going...it has some advantages over a torch, mostly being it can stay lit in any conditions-and creatures that hate light...really hate this. They don't even want to come close to it."

Gained: +1 Sunrod/Provides as many hours of bright illumination during the night, as it absorbs during the day. Command words are "Solara" to activate, and "Lunara" to deactivate. Doesn't burn or produce smoke, and can only be extinguished through magical means. Damages and stuns light averse creatures.

...

As for the reference to the Demon...

"I've seen the Demon, wandering around camp with that sad looking girl. I don't want to even imagine what he'll do with the Source...lets both hope the Fortress takes care of him."

[Tiruin]

Feleris smiled, if it were peacetime then he'd be blessed to meet a man such as Halbarad. But danger lurked on the horizon, and he knew that he must act fast. He grasped the rod tight in his hand and with the other, he saluted to his friend.

"Farewell then, my friend. I will try to rally as many as I can before morn, I have a bad feeling about whatever Stromgand is brewing up in the meet."

Feleris took one last glance at the map, memorizing each detail before turning around and leaving the tent, somewhat saddened for leaving at this time.

>Search for any allies left in the camp, avoiding Stromgand's attention.

[Dwarmin]

[4]

Feleris quickly moves around camp, gathering up at least a dozen adventurers, warning them of Stromgands plans and informing them of Halbarads plans to sneak through the mountain passes.

He's glad to see some are going to escape the death trap, anyway. In the back of his mind, his realizes he's also made it so there will be more competition to reach the Source-and not all of them will be as charitable as he is. Yet, it was the right thing to do.

As he sighs, turning back to rendevous with his allies, Feleris is sure he hears the gentle running of a small stream, in a tranquil garden-it sounds like the tinkling of silver bells. He hears a sweet lilting voice thanking him...then a feminine murmur of appreciation, and he knows his actions were noticed.

Gained: +10% Piety with the Goddess of Life

[2]

As Feleris takes a shortcut through the tents to try and reach his friends, he hears a voice behind him...

"Hey, Elfen! Stromgand be vanting to see you. Where d'yoo going this time of night, anyvay, eh Elfen?"

Slowly, Feleris turns around. It's Stromgands second lackey-a towering, tanned skin human with fierce green eyes and black hair weaved into triple braids, wearing two massive hatchets at his side. He calls himself "Vusted the Great Storm"-and can apparently generate hurricane forces with his breath, though no one has seem him do it.

He looks like one of those Barbaric Humans...they are said to be fierce fighters, who rely on their rage to fight, making them unable to feel pain or mercy.

He's wearing an impressive array of warm pelts and heavy leather armor. It makes Feleris mad to see so much waste of life used to feed the mans overblown ego.

"Elfen, can you speak? Vusted the Great Storm does not 'ave alot oof patience..."

The man loops his thumbs in his belt and rocks on his heels mockingly-showcasing an impressive dexterity that is not suggested by his size and strength.

OOC: Once I finish with Tiruin, that leaves Ochita and Zako to choose a straight course for themselves and we can finally get started for reals.

[Tiruin]

((I'm truly amazed at how far you go to make a story. Amazing, on all of it.  . Also,  ...this does not look good.))

Feleris looked over the man, he was not heavily armored but that did not make him any less dangerous. Suppressing his anger at the waste of life, he pretends to appear shocked at his discovery.

Not wanting a fight, especially in this situation, Feleris aims to persuade the man, careful not to piss him off too much. "I...was just going to gather herbs, sir," he said with emphasis on the last word, clasping his hands behind his back in a show of respect.

The rod gifted to him was safely in his pack, along with the rest of his belongings.

"I was also packing up to get ready for the meet. Could you lead me the way? I've seemed to lost myself amongst all these tents," he added, feigning confusion while swearing in his mind. It seems that his allies would have to leave without him. Somehow, he was not afraid of whatever may happen next.

He hoped anyone he met was also at the meet. Intuition spoke, this was not going to go well.

>If possible, follow Vusted to the meeting.

[lawastooshort]

Goseki observes the meeting from afar, and watches over the camp in silence. She notices the disagreements, and sees the small splinters splitting off from the main group that Stromgand is so clumsily trying to wield. She can guess at his intentions - what better way to get rid of both his rivals and the orcs than by getting them to destroy each other?

But not all the group are that easily led.

Goseki will watch for any small groups leaving the main force, and will follow them at a very discreet distance. She'll also try to contact the Jiang girl and initiate a conversation.

((apologies for not quite having the time at the moment to do better))

[Dwarmin]

((It's all right Lawastooshort, that was all I needed from you right now.))

>If possible, follow Vusted to the meeting.

Feleris falls in Vusted s wake. The giant man walks with ease-either he doesn't know Feleris lied, or doesn't care.

He speaks as they walk, as if they were old friends.

"Eh Stromgand no like Elfen-and Stromgand the bossman-but Vusted as' no problem with d'joo. Just stay out of Vusted way, ja?"

He laughs boomingly, clapping Feleris on the back with enough force to knock him forward a bit.

"Be betting you want hear Vusteds story? Evervone as' a story about the Source...I tell. Sad story, be warning.

...Vusted Homelands in bad trouble. Eagle-Flag Northern men with bright armor, horse riders and many spears come in, conquer villages, burning shrines to Old Gods, killing us children, taking our men and womenfolken as slaves...calls it "civilizing" us. Vusted calls it murder.

Vusted fights. But...is strongest warrior in Homeland...but is not strong enough to kill dem all. Too many. Too damn...many. No matta how many heads I tear off witta my axes, blows off cliffs with my wind, or crush wit my bare hands-there's is always more...Vusted lose village and family already...no more wifen for Vusted to love, no more daughters to hold...Vusted had good daughters. Beautiful...would ave' been warriors like dere papa, if Vusted was stronger. Too weak to save. Not forgiven self, ever.

Damn Northerns..."

Vusted sighs, and seems to deflate a bit-an odd thing for such a powerful warrior. It's clear you see a man who has lost much, fought hard...and was forced to admit his limitations, to seek a desperate chance.

He pounds his chest, laughs and speaks again..

"Ah...but Source will let Vusted be strong enough to save Homeland, and shrines, villages and children, men womenfolken-all of dem! Chase Northerns back to home, dey leave us alone forever, I hope. Or I do the same to thems lands. Maybe Gods even be 'appy enough to bring back my a-family, tho' not likely. More likely I be goin' too them in the spiritland, and dat be all right.

So! Not so bad a cause, to be dyin' for, don't you think Elfen? Cause Vusted thinks he and you and us all will likely to be dyin' here. No fool Vusted.

What cause do you be here to die for, Elfen??"

You sense he's genuinely honest here-not spying for Stromgand.

[Tiruin]

Feleris thought hard on Vusted's words. Before he started, his journey from the tranquil glades, he thought the world was filled with danger. Now...he was not so sure, Vusted's story touched him, it dashed his stereotype about Stromgand. Halbarad was right once again, he had the gift of tongue. What exactly did he promise this man to gain his loyalty Feleris wondered.

He looked the man in the eyes and decided to speak the truth this time.

"I...I see the Source as a power of hope and good, in the least for glory and fame. Many will want to claim it as their own, throwing away their lives in the process. I only seek balance," he said, lowering his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say exactly what his goal was, or... did he even know exactly what it was?

"Truly, it brings hope to the spirit of weary men and life to the downtrodden. I only seek to keep it from evil hands. You are a good man for your cause." He finished, continuing the march.

Deep inside, he wanted to save them all from this folly. But, as the old saying goes, a closed mind brings a closed fate.

"Vusted, do you think a man can still change his fate without the Source? As if he never heard of it in the first place?"

[Dwarmin]

Vusted nods.

"If'in the Balance makes Northerns go away for good, Vusted hopes Elfen succeed then...evil wouldn't help Vusted people-and maybe not Good either. So balance maybe sound best.

Heh... but, Vusted not belevin' in fate-maybe wrong, maybe not, not a way to say for the truth. Vusted believes he make future one step at time, Elfen.

But...supposing fate does existing..."

The giant man scratches his thick black beard, concentrating hard.

"...Fate existing, man can surely change.

Strong bends metal for weapon, bends wood to make house, bends land to make crop-ens for food.

Strong man makes a good family from only his Woman and his love.

If man-and Elfen-can change all things under sky and sun with enough strength and courage, so why not this fate be able to bended as well?

Ha! Vusted always bad at thinking like that, forgive if Vusted sound a fool to you, Elfen,"

[Tiruin]

"No, Vusted. You are wiser by your words." Feleris replied with a smile. Stromgand was lucky to have a man such as he by his side. Come to think of it, maybe they worked as his conscience, Vusted being the good part and the Blackguard...Feleris tried to forget that part.

"Why did Stromgand want to see me anyway? Has the meeting concluded?" he paused for a moment, and decided to ask anyway. "Out of curiosity, why stay by Stromgand's side if you are sure of death? You may be able to persuade him out of his plan, I'm sure he trusts you. A live man can do a lot more than a dead one, an elder once told me."