You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Valimar
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Rinrin
Rinrin could feel her excitement building as Hareef showed them the different mechanisms for catching the large fish, that is, until she was left staring at the man's back as he walked into the cabin.
"Um...I just realized...Please forgive me miss, but I think you're too...petite. Marlin put up a fight for a full grown man...I'm afraid I can't let you use these." He had said, and the gnome's wide smile slowly faded. Only moments later, however, it had returned. Hareef had spent only a minute within, emerging with a stout fishing pole, much like the ones Rinrin had seen her fellows in Gnomefeld using.
"We can let ya use this though."
He said, beaming.
"We gots some minnow in a bucket back there. Tell ya what. You catch anything good enough, and we have it fer dinner."
She gave him an enthusiastic nod before running over to the bucket and meticulously hooking a minnow. She wanted to make extra sure that it wouldn't come off in the waves; not without a bite, at least.
Rinrin cast her line out just as Damien began his song, and nearly forgot she was fishing by the time it ended, the tall bard giving a small bow of his head.
"I know it doesn't have an overly steady beat to it, but when I heard it, it was accompanied by a wooden flute. If I had one, I could probably replicate the sound for you, but I can't do both at the same time." Smiling slightly, he looked from Zohan to Hareef to Rinrin. "I hope you all enjoyed that. I know I did the first time I heard it."
Rinrin tried clapping, then fumbled with her fishing pole. Laughing at her clumsiness, she smiled up at Damien.
"That was beautiful!"
Her words were echoed by the crew and Zohan patted him on the back before he returned to the railing. A pleasant silence settled over those patiently fishing. Rinrin hummed an old tune from her homeland to herself. Conjori had even decided to abandon the bed and relocate himself next to the gnome, his soft snores sounding from around her heels. She patted him absently on the head with her free hand as she stared out over the water.
After a while, Damien turned to her, asking her about what she does for a living, and why she had joined them. She grinned broadly, remembering the last night she had spent in Gnomefeld.
"My duties were to the church of my hometown in Gnomefeld, so I suppose that was my living. I kinda joined you guys on accident, too, I think. My family, my town, had chosen me to go out and represent them in the world...I guess it just seemed to be the best way to do just that! It was such a wonderful party we had, too, the night before Conjori and I left..." Rinrin giggled before shooting headlong into a detailed description of her parting from the Rushflare town.
((Basically her story is akin to what I have written for her background in the Q/A, Tek. She's simply rambling on to pass the time, basically, and is still paying some attention to her fishing line. Once she either finishes her story or is stopped in her rush by Damien, she'll ask him about the same: why/how he became a bard and his reasons for joining in the group. Sorry for the delay, I've been terribly busy with things.))
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:21:15.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Haha
As Damien wove the song, with soothing voice, not only did Zohan and Hareef listen. Several crewmen, who had been busy eithe fishing, or lulling about in cardplaying groups, turned their attention to him, and listened intently.
When he finished, he was greeted with hooting, and clapping of many men. Grinning, Zohan patted the bard on the back and said.
"A real gift your voice is. Why if we could fish like you can sing, I'de be rich enough to own a palace! Indeed we have enjoyed your song!"
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:21:03.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
After learning how to place a hook through a rather large fish, Damien was made aware of the fact that marlin loved them. Which meaned that he would be hauling in an enormous fish if he landed anything. Though intimidating, it also fascinated the dark man. One fish like that would surely feed the entire crew!
Secretly, it disappointed him somewhat that Rinrin couldn’t use the mechanism that he was, due to her size. He didn’t let it show outwardly, though. It just didn’t do him well to see someone so enthusiastic have her idea be downsized to a fishing pole. She seemed happy, regardless, so he put it to the back of his mind and began to bait his own hook. It took him much longer than it did for the crewmen, but that was understandable, as he himself had no practice in this particular area. But, when he finally did hook the fish, he was quickly able to understand how to work the rope and pulley system. Connecting the hook and metal hoop, he dropped the line until it turned yellow, and waited.
Damien had heard from many people in his travels that fishing was a game of patience, but he didn’t have any real idea of just how true that statement was until today.
Although Zohan and Hareef told him that they would teach him at no price, Damien found that some sort of performance might do them well. He was growing bored with the wait, anyway.
“Ah, this indeed is a long game of waiting,” Damien spoke in low tones, though not with disappointment or any such negative emotion. “You’ve travelled a lot, I assume. Be there chance you’ve heard this particular song in your journeys? I learned it at a time in my life where I was a rather interesting tribe of people. Out in the wilds, they had no civilization as we are more accustomed to. They wandered the lands, nomads, they were. They lived in tents, and moved onwards every few days. Perhaps it will interest you?”
Clearing his throat, the bard kept his hand on the handle of the mechanism to ensure that he would be made aware if he got a bite.
“Onwards, we walk this winding road,
the changing land our guide.
Roaming where our spirits lead us,
like eagles, we shall fly.
Always the great wheel will revolve,
our times will come and pass.
Forever our legacy shall remain,
ancestors, we shall become.
We spread our magics across the lands,
leaving behind where we may walk.
In every word we speak in song,
the spirits dance with us.
Onwards, we walk this winding road,
the changing land our guide.
Healing the wounds of ravaged land,
like the heavens, we shall cry.”
His melodic voice worked the song chords in ways that could only be achieved from years of constant practice. Finishing the final verse, he licked his lips, and bowed his head slightly, chuckling ever so softly.
“I know it doesn’t have an overly steady beat to it, but when I heard it, it was accompanied by a wooden flute. If I had one, I could probably replicate the sound for you, but I can’t do both at the same time.” Smiling slightly, he looked from Zohan to Hareef to Rinrin. “I hope you all enjoyed that. I know I did the first time I heard it.”
With that, the performer went back to the rail. After waiting a while, he will ask Rinrin what she does for a living, and why she decided to come with them.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:20:47.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
"Yes...Erenall shall balance the scales. We all knew the man, and I shall forever see him as a man, presented danger, but now you know he IS the challenge. And you are right, the others may take the knowledge to an extreme at this time, but they must know eventually. Take caution, Orion. Your master must be wary, for vengeance is the work of demons and the gods. We do what we must." The half-elf turned and watched the others as Damien and Rinrin fished off the side. Teros was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected. He had lost a friend less than a week ago and the knight had not yet seemed to recover.
"Let us wait and see..."
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:20:34.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
Scourge listened intently to Vilyamar recount the word's the man, if he could be called a man spoke amidst the havoc upon the Naussica. Orion flew down to perch upon his shoulder, and caws lightly at the half-elf. "It will not do well to give more cause for upset and worry to your companions. Everyone, save perhaps the gnome knows the threat Thrundier posts. God, backed by the gods, or in possession of ancient godly magic, do not let caution become masked in fear. Erenall shall claim him as he claims all life, and the time shall come when I shall reap the harvest of his heart and send his soul to join those amongst the damned." Orion crossed from one shoulder to the other. "Until then, tread lightly with open eyes and ear alike, and we all shall prepare for our next clandestine encounter."
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:20:23.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Sea Chum
As Vilyamar and Scourge sat at the stern of the ship, deep in convo, Damien and Rinrin were busy being taught the ways of fishing, by a couple of the crewmembers.
Hareef, a tall man with a short crop of black curly hair, and a scruffy, unshaven chin; and Zohan, a slightly shorter, bearded man with a balding head and a twinkle in his eyes were the two who gave them their lesson.
In response to Damien's question, Hareef shrugged, and placed a hand on the bards shoulder, guiding him and Rinrin to a large barrel.
"We will teach for no price. But you may give us a tale if you wish."
His voice was heavily accented. Prying the disc like lid to the barrel off, he stood grinning as the potent, sickening smell of dead fish engulfed Damien and Rinrin. Both nearly gagged. Conjori sniffed hungrily at the barrel. Zohan held up two nearly foot long, steal hooks. Taking one hook, Hareef reached into the barrel, and pulled forth a footlong, obviously dead fish.
"Herrin. Marlin love em. And that be what we fishin today."
He grinned and added
"Watch carefully. You be doing your own."
Taking the fish in the flat of his hand, he ran the hook across it's stomach, opening it.
"This will help the smell."
Taking the hook, and with rather brutal force, he forced it through the fishes side, nearly at the base of its tail. Pushing it out the other side, he looped it again, this time right behind the gill.
"No way this coming off."
Turning and strolling back to the rail, he introduced them to one of several, wheel like pullies. Thin, white rope hung from the wheel, and a handle connected to the pully. Zohan turned the handle releasing severl yards of rope. Taking it's end, Hareef, showed them a strange, steel hoop, and how it connected to the hook.
"Connect the bait and throw it over. Turn the wheel until the rope turns yellow..That means it's deep enough..."
A sudden thought hit Hareef, and he looked at RInrin. A grimace crossed his face.
"Um..I just realized...Please forgive me miss, but I think your to...petite. Marlin put up a fight for a full grown man...I'm afraid I can't let you use these."
Just as he finished, Zohan headed to teh cabin, and, after a moment behind it's door, returned with a rather standard looking fishing pole.
"We can let ya use this though."
He said, beaming.
"We gots some minnow in a bucket back there. Tell ya what. You catch anything good enough, and we have it fer dinner."
Thus, RInrin and Damien were able to begin their fishing. Vilyamar and Scourge have no interuptions, and ELandor....is doing whatever. I'm going to assume Teros is in his room..and I need to get ahold of him. I'll give ya another update soon enough, in the meantime, converse if you want, tell tales...You can even make up if you catch something.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:20:03.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
The story that Elandor so enthusiastically recited to the bard was...interesting...to say the least, although unbelievable. He had never before heard of a gigantic ball of light growing sharp teeth and snapping up an entire ship in one big bite. And he had heard a lot of tales in the past. But... Perhaps the kender was correct. After all, many stories he had learned from people had proved to be true, no matter how absurd they might have been.
When Elandor showed Damien the orange dust from a small bag, he couldn’t help but look at it closer. Perhaps it is some sort of bait? he wondered to himself, not bothering to get the small fellow excited by it. Kenders could cause enough havoc when in a generally calm state.
“Very interesting story indeed, Elandor. Tragic, too, but I cannot help but wonder. How old are you, anyway? To have a nephew old enough to work on a boat such as the one you told in your tale, I would assume you are at least thirty?”
After receiving his answer from Elandor, Damien strode off to be by himself, where he was again disturbed from thought, this time by Rinrin.
“Yes?” He asked the gnome in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Just thought I’d let you know that Conjori and I are bunking in your room. Hope you don’t mind...the big guy, Scourge, scares me a bit, and I don’t think the monk really likes me...” She told him.
He paused for a moment, processing this. “I see,” He muttered, looking back to the sea for just a moment, then turning his grey eyes back upon the small woman. “Scourge...is nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn’t hurt you. Vilyamar, though, I doubt likes anybody, and I don’t think many like him, either. His arrogance upsets a lot of people...myself especially.”
The small woman seemed to have many traits that related to those of Elandor, though he didn’t think she was as prone to lifting valuables from people’s pockets...Elandor! He had been prodded by him! Damien quickly began to dip his slender fingers into all of his pockets and storage areas, making certain that everything was there. The kender had a good heart, but a rather frustrating habit of winding up with things that did not belong to him. Satisfied that he still retained all of his possessions, Damien watched as Rinrin waved to him before wandering over to some of the crew members who were carrying fishing poles.
Might be a useful thing to know, if I ever get stranded somewhere.
With a flourish of his cloak that had become all-too habitual, Damien followed Rinrin over to the fishermen. “I, too, would like to learn how to catch fish. If you wish, I can give you a tale that you won’t soon forget as payment for your tuition.”
Taking a place beside Rinrin, Damien accepted one of the fishing poles from a crewman, and awaited his lesson.
(OOC: If the crew members wish for repayment for their lesson, Damien will tell a fairly dramatic tale to them.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:19:45.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
Vilyamar saw Scourge’s motions and nodded, implying that he would soon follow. Tossing down his things the monk moved out the door and nearly knocked over the newest member of the group, Rinrin. The diminutive gnome did not know what she was getting into when she had burst into that conversation and demanded explanation. Vilyamar simply thought that here was another who would just get killed along the way. Personally he knew that a balance must be maintained but he would rather not see any lives wasted.
Following a little ways behind, Vilyamar stepped around Rinrin and kept pace with the large one. Scourge seemed to settle himself on the prow with his familiar keeping watch for others. No crewmen seemed to be around that would care, but still the monk spoke in tones just loud enough to be heard over the background noise.
“None of the others know this for the ones who were preset have all since perished. I would not be the best, though, to present the rest of the group with this information. The terms we all sit on are not all positive. Thrundier is no god, but a man in possession of an item of godly strength. He is the one that was spoken of by the ancient ones. He boasted loudly before attempting to slay me. He said he would claim the stone…and by the power of his being I do not believe he meant the gem that kept the windship aloft.”
Vilyamar looked away upon finishing this. They had hurt him, and they had slain his men (though the monk had a feeling that it was more the former that would cause Thrundier’s return) and they been made known to him. It was more than a fear or feeling that said that they would meet him again. And the more everyone knew about him, the better they would be to face him.
“Let the others know if you wish and at your own pace. You and Teros are the only ones I trust with my life,” he said.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:19:31.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Rinrin
The ship had left; the departure was not quite as exciting as Rinrin had imagined it would be, but enjoyable nonetheless. After a while of staring out at the sea, the gnome realized that she still had not claimed a bed for herself, and promptly scampered over to the cabins, Conjori close at her heels.
Glancing into the first room, she saw that the big one...Scourge, she remembered, had left his things there. The man scared Rinrin a bit, he was quite unlike anyone she had ever seen before, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to spend the trip bunked in the same room. One of the others that had also chosen this room, a monk by the looks of it, hadn't even so much as acknowledged Rinrin's existence. Shaking her head, Rinrin moved over to the second room, where she had seen the bard go earlier.
She stepped in and set her bag down upon one of the beds, which was promptly claimed as a wonderful resting spot by Conjori. The gnome laughed softly to herself, shaking her head at her companion's antics.
"You take a nap, then. I'm going to go look around."
Whistling to herself, the gnome wandered back out onto the deck and looked around. She spotted Damien over by the rail and walked over, calling out a cheerful hello.
"Just thought I'd let you know that Conjori and I are bunking in your room. Hope you don’t mind…the big guy, Scourge, scares me a bit, and I don’t think the monk really likes me..."
A slight frown crossed her face for a moment, quickly turning into a smile and a laugh as a seagull swooped down and caught a fish in its beak. (maybe Damien talks back, maybe not) She quieted herself down to a giggle and let her eyes drift around the ship.
"Anyways, I think I'm going to go learn how to fish! See you!"
The gnome wandered cheerily over to where the crew sat readying their fishing rods. She'd never actually gone fishing herself, although she had seen it done.
"Hey, can you teach me how to fish? Please?" she asked hopefully. It would certainly be a fun way to pass the time, she thought.
((While she's learning from the crew how to fish, she'll ask about their various adventures at sea and such, curious about basically everything that's new and foreign to her with regards to fishing and sailing (not anything about the surrounding land, she's a bit caught up with the sea at the moment). Conjori's sleeping on her bed back in the cabin.))
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:19:17.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: First Half
August 28th-September 1st/Friday-Monday
Lethanon Reef, Northern Arnakian Coast
Sea Chum
The first half of their week aboard the Sea Chum passed smoothly for the party. Despite the notorious heat of the Arnakian coast, days were comfortable. The sky was clear and, and the air was fresh. A constant breeze drifted over the deck, carrying with it a refreshing mist. A great coral reef expanded west from Lethanon, and the water was a shimmering teal. Fish of every color could be seen, darting in what appeared to be clouds of gems beneath the waves. Dolphins were spotted several times and infact, in one instance, approached the ship. The crew showed the party how to toss fish, usually used as bait, to them. No member of the crew had ever seen animals such any of these water creatures, and the experience was a beautiful respite from the tiring, so far horrifying journey they were on.
Because they were sailing across a reef, land was never out of site. Islands constantly dotted the horizon, emerald in a world of blue and teal. Thus, the landgoing party was graced with a sense of security. They weren’t miles from land, drifting over a bottomless sea of water.
Sunsets were beautiful, and not a sight one would wish to miss. The sky seemed set ablaze with a golden fire, and the mist that hung over the water seemed to shimmer with greens, purples and reds. The water itself danced and shimmered like liquid fire. It was a time of peace in nature. The water would lap gently against the ship, and even the normally constant noise of the sea birds would calm. Slowly the sun would settle behind the distant waves, and a lavender would drift across the sky, before darkening to the sapphire of night. The night stars were like shattered diamonds, that seemed to swirl across the sky, and shone brighter than on land, and were reflected brilliantly on the shimmering, peaceful water. It was as if the ship had broken free of gravity, and were sailing amidst the stars themselves.
The crew spent the days fishing with rods. It was too early in the journey to fish for keeps. All fish would spoil, but the sport in itself was a good way to pass the time. Should any members wish to fish, the crew will teach them. (You can wing whatever you catch, as long as it isn’t outrageous, or I can post it…) Barrels of water were all the crew provided, in terms of nutrients. The party had their own food. Any crew members are willing to talk about anything, from past fishing experiences, to the surrounding islands as they know them. You simply need to ask. This post expands 3 days time, and is used simply as a setting. I hope you will use this opportunity to converse, and develop relationships and characters.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:19:02.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
Yes, Elandor still was a part of this adventure. Though lately it had brought him a different kind of sensation than he had imagined. Fear was something kender could handle, but grief was of another level. Tears flowed openly on the day of the funeral and fell down to his heart, where they lingered and nursed his sadness so it lived on, long after the rest of the party had set their minds on their journey again. Somehow the glum and foreign harbor city didn’t make him feel any better.
In the end curiosity overwhelmed his sadness with the introduction of the gnome. Rinrin and her companion made a pair to Elandor’s heart. As soon as she opened her mouth to an endless stream of words he knew they had a new member in their group, if they wanted or not. He knew he wanted though. The way this one acted reminded him of fellow kender; nosy, a fast talker and full of life. It reminded him of how he had been before this adventure started. As the others shared their quest with Rinrin, a single tear welled from the kender’s eyes. It drained all the sorrow from Elandor’s mind and body and as it hit the ground it was like a bubble of soap exploded, releasing renewed positive energy. A big grin and twinkling eyes ruined any subtlety of this major mood-swing. The kender in him had returned.
A reborn man Elandor made sure to enjoy every minute of their stay in these strange lands. He stayed up late to walk the harbor and wonder about the depths of the waters. His thoughts often strayed to his fallen companions and he pulled his jacket close to ban the chill from his skin. Still, he was able to face the past and be thankful for the time he had had with these people. Their lives had not been given in vain. Everybody had learned from what had happened. They may have been chosen, that didn’t mean they were invincible. He lifted his gaze to the stars and adjusted his glasses. Their comrades were up there, he knew it, still fighting for the good cause. In their own way. Nobody could replace them, but in a way their places could be filled up by individuals willing to take up arms against the dark god. Not all was lost.
He returned to his room and started to get ready for bed when a soft but firm knock on the door interrupted him. In the doorway stood Scourge, unmasked and in full orc-ish glory. Elandor’s face brightened. He realized how special this moment was and did not want to mess it up by hurting the big one’s feelings. Before he knew it a cloak was pushed in his hands that made the kender’s mouth drop. He fumbled for words but when the sound managed to get out his windpipe Scourge was already walking away. Elandor rushed after him and embraced one of the moving legs tightly for a second. Upon letting go he softly added: “Thank you, Scourge. I really appreciate this.”
Then he walked back to his room, talking to himself how this was one of the greatest things to ever happen to him, along with him being the bearer of the gem that paid for the trip on the airship.
*****************
The next morning Elandor paced the wooden bridge that lead them aboard the Sea Chum wearing a beautiful cloak that fluttered around him on the wet breeze. He prodded Damien.
“You know, this reminds me of this story my nephew told me. He was an adventurer too. He didn’t go as far over the world as we did, but he truly was an amazing lad.”
He looked up to see the bard’s face and continued.
“One day he boarded this ship called the 5 Ducks. The captain was a lunatic, and had baptized the vessel such because 5 was his lucky number. The duck part was added because he had never heard of a duck drowning. He believed that a ship with that name would never sink. He was very wrong as you will see.”
“The 5 Ducks sailed over an enormous lake that would bring them to another harbor where my nephew had some business. Like I said, the captain was insane and pursued this dream. He wanted to have a ship that could go under water. One night a bright light erupted from the water of the lake, like a glowing ball of spiritual energy. The captain and his crew all gathered upon the deck to see what this strange phenomena was. As the ship approached the light a gentle voice came gliding over the water, as if the ball of light was talking to them. My nephew soon realized that the voice came not to their ears, but was implanted in their minds.
Captain of the 5 Ducks, I am Iundill, patroness of this lake. You have sailed these waters in peace, never harmed its inhabitants or polluted its depths. I shall reward you for that.
My nephew saw how the captain nodded his head with the eagerness of a young pup as the voice continued.
I shall grand you your deepest wish. Your ship shall sail this lake underwater as you grace my realm with a visit. I will spray your vessel with a magical powder that will enchant you so you can breath and sail under the surface.
A dusty cloud of orange powder snowed down on the ship. The captain and his crew danced in it like kids under a water hose. My nephew dusted the powder of his cloths and gathered them in a leather sack. He seemed to be the only one not trusting this voice.
In order to enter my realm I need you all to close your eyes and count to 30. When you open your eyes, you’ll have entered my domain.
As if hypnotized the captain and his crew did as were told. My nephew was the only one to see an the ball of light go up high into the air, as an enormous mouth with vicious teeth rose from the lake. He tried to warn the captain but the lunar just kept counting and shrugged my nephew away. Grabbing his belongings and stuffing them in a wooden barrel my nephew jumped overboard to save himself. The last thing he saw was the mouth closing over the ship and two gigantic hollow eyes disappear under the surface, followed by the ball of light.
Years later he told this story to me and handed me this sack of dust. The dust he had gathered. He had no need for it any more, but I cherish it and its story. I think it’s neat.”
Elandor opened a small sack on his belt and took out a handful of orange powder. With a big grin he showed Damien and anyone else who had been listening. After putting it back in the sack he sighed and headed for their chambers.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:18:46.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
Scourge looked up from his bunk on his way to the prow of the ship, the half-elf passing him to unpack his lightened load upon the other bunk. With mention of needing to speak Scourge nodded his head slowly, though said nothing, as Orion was currently already above deck taking his place upon the 'crows' nest. With that he slowly moved towards the prow motioning Vilyamar to follow should he wish.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:18:35.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
The last thing he remembered was crashing against the cabin wall once more, pain flaring from many wounds and darkness as consciousness fled from the half-elf’s broken body.
He awoke in a bed with light streaming through the window. He had nothing but sheets about him and a frantic twisting of his head brought his robes, cleaned and folded neatly with his pack on top, to his sight. He brought up his right hand and brushed back some of the blonde hair that had flipped into his face and moved it back behind his ear. Rising, he gently stepped onto the floor and checked over his body. No wounds or bruises seemed present, but there was a faint scar across his stomach. His fingers traced a line along it as he went through the memories of the day on the airship, of the fated ends of the satyr and warrior and of his own near death at the hands of that monster.
The sun was fairly high in the sky and once the half-elf had donned the forest green robes and sash he opened his pack. Not much remained of what was once there. But in the front pocket a heavy item could be felt. Vilyamar had felt a lot of apprehension since he awoke, knowing what he did about the man who had nearly killed him. Reaching into the pouch, he felt cold metal with his fingertips and slowly grasped the odd shaped object. He paused, not knowing whether or not he really wanted to see the object now that he knew it was still in his possession. After what seemed like forever, he drew his hand out of the bag with the object still in his grasp and eyed the Hilt of Cielanon, the legendary dagger that had yet to gain a blade. The monk knew little about the legends surrounding this dagger. Perhaps the bard knew more depth into the legends that they had been told in what seemed like another lifetime.
Vilyamar replaced the hilt in his sash and said a small prayer to Erenall for keeping it safe. Although he still had no idea where he was, or what the terms or conditions of his stay were, the need for refreshment remained. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he began his meditation.
It was some time later that he finally ventured to the door. He suspected that his things would be all right, but he cautiously put his hand to the door and began to open it slowly. The door however, swung open quite suddenly, surprising the monk enough to leap back and assume a fighting stance. He was breathing quite fast and his heart was racing from the shock and now he stood facing a human in white robes carrying a silver tray with a meal on it. Much of the drink had spilled and a few buns rolled away from the feet of the man, but Vilyamar relaxed immediately once he saw that he was in no immediate danger. The two guards that had been posted and turned and reached for their weapons but relaxed as well once they saw that it was only the half-elf.
They seem to recognize me well here, Vil thought. He never even remembered hitting the water or ground and suspected he must have been quite injured in the descent.
The robed man turned out to be a priest of Lavuria, an attendant who been among the group that had healed them in the city infirmary and brought them here. It was the third day since they had been healed and he now knew that they had landed in the port of Saradin, their first destination. Marie’s body was never found and none knew of her present condition. Most presumed her dead. Captain Darrad and his sole remaining crewman, Goham, remained for the funeral ceremonies that were conducted for the fallen members of the crew and the party. Somehow, Darrad had saved Jilly, Derak’s sword, and erected it atop his burial mound. The morning seemed appropriate for the ceremony and once it was done, it was a very somber walk back to their place of rest.
Vilyamar tried to seek out Scourge during their stay, but the theurge always seemed to be busy, either with his own studies or with Elandor, the kender. The only other one who knew the truth about the attack was presumed dead. The monk suspected heavily, in fact, that the attack was not a random raid. The man who had slaughtered their companions was one who they would see again. Most likely it would to be in the battles for the light of Cielanon and possibly in the final battle.
On the fifth day, when the heroes had been laid to rest and the companion’s settled in their emotions, the time came to part both with the good captain and with the city of Saradin. It was a bitter-sweet parting for the half-elf. They had all grown to be good friends in a very short time, their shared experience creating a huge bond between the survivors. But at least, indeed, they were all still alive.
Goham had offered them all the opportunity to travel to their original destination. It seems that a friendly captain of a water-going vessel had owed a favour to Darrad and now was offering the party, including the newest members, Rinji and Conjori, travel for free. They couldn’t pass up the chance since all forms of money or gems had disappeared to the bottom of the bay with the crash. The monks supposed they would be able to find a mage that was willing to cast some breathing enchantments on them, but the search would be hard and most likely fruitless.
They all had gathered what little items remained and walked to the port after bidding farewell to the priests and clerics of the temples. Vilyamar noticed that Damien, the human bard and now one of the only two humans remaining, was avoiding him and whenever their eyes met or the monk caught him looking, he would turn away quickly or wrinkle his eyes in a squint of what seemed like disgust.
I have had looks of hatred and indifference and wonder, but not yet disgust. He thought after a while of standing for it. Vil decided it was best just to ignore it as if it did not happen. He was quite good at ignoring things.
The party found their boat and introduced themselves to the captain. The man spoke broken common and held on to a heavy accent. The words seemed boorish compared to the flowing tongue of the elves and disjointed compared to the way the inlanders spoke. They were shown cabins and immediately they set out choosing companions for the trip. Vilyamar wished to speak with Scourge and Teros about the events that occurred inside the cabin on the airship. Damien moved into the room beside Scourge, and so Vilyamar decided to spare some tensions and dropped his light bag on a bunk in the other room that was presently occupied by Scourge alone.
Before the half-elf left to survey their transportation to Kubal (it is best to know one’s environment at all times), he spoke silently to Scourge.
“We must talk later…there is something you must know about who we will come against…”
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:18:20.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
The past few days in the strange port had immersed Damien in a culture he was unfamiliar with. But, despite this, he had taken it as a chance to grow, to expand his repertoire of tales and songs. It seemed that many of the natives of the area were eager to hear his story of what exactly went on aboard the windship, and as soon as he brought Thrundier into the story (Whose name he had only heard distantly when he bellowed it to the others), he could see the listeners cringe up in fear. Truthfully, Damien doubted he had the nerve to fight the gigantic chieftan, but he left this out of his reiterations. Speaking of him in the temple would likely not be the wisest idea.
However, the memorial service was hard on the man. He had seen enough people that he held close to him die in his lifetime, and seeing Mahou’s headless body was more than he could handle. It only did to add one more name to the list, and was something he would rather not have to dwell upon later. Slowly making his way to the back of the crowd, the man slipped free and darted off into the shadows. Besides, it did little to bolster the confidence that the others had tried to instill in him about their to-be confrontation with a dark lord. This was a man who had butchered two of their members! Two, who had each been elected by Tharanduil to confront and destroy the dark lord reborn. What hope was there to be had when dealing with this god?
It was here, too, that the bard came across a small creature that called itself Rinrin. A gnome female, she was also accompanied by a great white dog, much larger than herself (I assume?). The size ratio was about that of a human to a horse, and he had heard of people employing canines as mounts, so thus, it was the assumption that he made. She had rushed in while he was speaking to some of the other group members of matters concerning their mission, demanding to know the full story of things. It was not he that reiterated it to her, but simply observed the small one. She seemed to energetic, full of energy. Perhaps she would be the one to bring light to the clouds of darkness that seemed to haunt the fellowship. She was a priest of Inenhalla, but he figured it would be for the better if she were uninformed of what had happened to Mahou. Apparently, the others thought likewise.
The day came where Damien was to bid farewell to Captain Darrad. He had become a friend of Damein, and the poet would miss him, though he didn’t let it show. He thought it better if he kept goodbyes as simple as possible. Thanking the captain for the transport, Damien also gave him a few coins that he had earned as a bit of pocket money for the man, who was uncertain as to what his future now held in store. As it would happen, Darrad had booked them further transportation that would land them even closer to where they were to go.
Three days passed, and it was time to move on. Ready to go, with new clothes that the performed had tailored to his liking, and with two weeks worth of rations for once they got there, Damien followed a crewman of the Sea Chum to the docks, where he first lay eyes upon the ship they were to be taking. A typical ship, it was covered in algae and barnacles, and was small in size. He also had the looming feeling that he would have to share rooms with somebody again. It didn’t matter to him, as long as it wasn’t with Vilyamar. Truthfully, Damien was unsure as to how much of the pompous half-breed he could stand before being driven to lunacy.
The captain of the ship seemed to resemble Derak, though he was dark-skinned like everyone else in the region that he had seen. His language was also more broken than the dead fighter’s. Not letting this thought get to him, Damien listened to what the man had to say, and moved aboard when instructed. Carrying his gear to the cabins, the bard found his hunch satiated with the sight of numerous bunkbeds in two small rooms.
Entering into one of the cabins where he found Scourge also sited, Damien reluctantly turned to occupy the other room. He wished to spend more time with the unusual man, whom he had taken a liking to after their encounters on the windship, but reasoned that if Scourge were here, then so would be Elandor. Personally, he had nothing against the kender, but did not wish to spend the voyage looking for his belongings.
Tossing his knapsack onto a bed, the bard turned about and exited the small room, heading out onto the deck. He could see the crewmembers working, as well as the captain, and the other party members. Damien could not help but pay respect to the man, for he had seen what it took to guide a ship. Though the one he had just been on was made to fly, it was probably similar in many ways.
Not speaking to anybody unless spoken to first, the bard made his way to one of the rails, and stood silent, watching the sea.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:18:07.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
The large man opened his orange eyes, casting them upon the soft hued stone and wood structure which had housed him for the past few days. The Scourge of the Vile rubbed his temples and sat up with a great sigh, awakening once more from a dream which had followed him since his run in--turned enslavement by--that necromancer many years ago.
Coated in a shimmer of sweat, Scourge slowed his breathe and turned to his companion. Orion, the obsidian raven perched upon the back of a nearby chair, preened his feathers idly, accustomed to many nights like these. Scourge arose from the bed and sat cross legged on the floor before a single lit candle. A candle was much like a life, slow to light, and it grows into a steady flame of power and brightness, gusts of wind threatening to extinguish it prematurely much like obstacles in life. In in the end, even the candle which once shone with such vibrance dwindles down and dies.
Putting out the flame between forefinger and thumb of a large blackened hand calloused from years of hard work, Scourge fell into concentration for a communement with Erenall.
Just the day prior a gnome had integrated herself within the party, and along with her came some sort of canine beas which Scourge couldn't help grin and run his tongue over his large incisors when thinking about it.
Thinking about the diminuative lass Conjori and her delectable little companion made Scourge remember the cloak he had managed to salvage from the falling Naussica. Lifting himself up and not even bothering to cover himself as usual, donned only in his repaired Clerical Vestiments, Scourge approached and quietly knocked on Elandor's door. When the little one answered, he silently handed the Kender the cloak turned and walked away, his long hair braided down his back, the creature obviously of at least partial orcish heritage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the morning arrived to board the Sea Chum Scourge prayed to the Lord almighty, he who reigned over life and death, and closed his spellbook as he followed the dark skinned man Ahman to the seafaring vessel.
The thought of boarding another ship wasn't the most gratifying weight upon the theurge's mind this morning, but at least thing time there wasn't a huge drop between him and the water below should they be befallen upon once more.
Sitting in his room quietly he placed his backpack upon his bed and took a stance at the prow of the ship, his features once again covered beneath cowl and cap.
It's going to be awhile to Kubal. Erenall, equalizer of all things, guide me to continue your mission this day."
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:17:54.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Rinrin
Rinrin yawned as she wandered about the church, Conjori by her side, admiring the different decorations on the walls. Rounding a corner, she heard the murmur of voices coming from one of the rooms of the travellers she had met a few days prior, the door slightly ajar. She looked over at Conjori.
"I wonder what they're talking about, don't you?" Moving a bit closer to the door she added, "I'll just listen a little bit...I could find out something really interesting!"
As the gnome placed her head next to the door, the big dog sat down, patiently waiting for her to finish. After a few minutes, Rinrin could no longer stop a giggle from escaping. Interesting was almost an understatement, these travellers...no, she corrected herself, these adventurers were just what she was looking for, although she hadn’t realized this before. Recognising her giggle from inside the room, the voices had stopped and, unable to contain her excitement, Rinrin rushed into the room laughing, followed shortly after by Conjori, ears perked up. She quickly bubbled out her story, telling them why she had travelled so far from her homelands and then insisting upon hearing the full story. Ultimately she joined up with them, although not entirely a decision made by the group itself.
*****
Time passed quickly for Rinrin with so many new and different things to discover in a land outside of Gnomefeld and new companions to spend time with. Now it was time to leave. On a boat. The Sea Chum, she noted. Managing to suppress a giggle of excitement, she let herself be ushered on board, unnecessarily calling for Conjori to hurry up; the huge white dog was just as excited as his friend.
The captain explained his reason for taking the party, free of charge, while on the way to their rooms.
"Captain Darrad is good friend of mine. I owe him favor, and we go to fish off the Ralnarian Coast anyways. Good heron there. We take you to Kubal because I promise Darrad."
Rinrin smiled politely. The Captain seemed nice enough, if a bit uneducated. She wasn’t entirely sure who Durrad was, although she remembered the others mentioning the name at one point. He showed them their rooms: two small rooms, each with two bunkbeds.
Looking around the rooms, Rinrin looked up at the others uncertainly, as she said cheerfully, "Well, I've barely met you all, and I'm not picky. Just let me know where Conjori and I should go."
Conjori had wandered over to the rail, watching the seagulls, while they were shown around. After she had set her pack down in one of the rooms, Rinrin walked over to join him, running a hand over the regrettably short white fur of his back as they both stared out at the sea, excitedly waiting to be off.
((Yay!!! I get to join now!! I hope this is an adequate first post! ^-^
Rinrin and Conjori are basically just going to spend the voyage getting to know the other party members, sleeping/meditating, exploring the boat (if the captain allows it) and watching the water and other scenery with her dog.))
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:17:39.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Of Death And Healing
August 27th/Thursday
Lethanon Penninsula, Northern Arnakian Coast
Saradin, Capital of Lethanon
It had been over a week since the crash. 8 days since the destruction of The Nausicaa, and with it, the water-going vessel, Arnakian’s Pride. Once the jewel of King Elethorn The Second, and his Northern Kingdom of Thollin, the grand windship now lay in ruins at the bottom of the Saradin Harbor. Twenty two of the twenty nine crewmen and passengers of The Nausicaa were either missing or dead. All of which were assumed dead. Not many bodies had been saved, for the Saradin Harbor is a fishing port, and thus, is infested with a variety of shark. The sapphire bowl that was nestled against the whitewashed city of Saradin boiled in bloody frenzy that terrible day. Of the terrible air pirates, nothing was known in these southern, coastal lands, and the dreaded, bone ship had not been seen since.
Seven, badly wounded people survived and were accounted for. The humans Teros, Damien, Captain Darrad, and a crewman of his; the elven blooded Vilyamar, the untrusted half orc Scourge, and the little kender, Elandor. Thankfully, no members of Arnakian’s Pride were killed, and all were rescued before the frenzy that perhaps, or perhaps not took the lives of the beautiful young woman, Marie, and several crewmen who may have survived otherwise.
Priests from both the Temple of Alquelynia, and Lavuria were summoned to the drab, stone building, standing atop a high crested hill, some distance from the rest of the city, that was the city infirmary; and, within two days, all seven survivors were fully healed, save shock and depression. Even a week of warm sun and seabreeze would perhaps, not be enough to fully cure them of these ailments, however.
Priests of Lavuria allowed them to quarter in a free wing of the sprawling, gold and ivory laced Temple of The Sun, and here they had constant access to food, comfortable, feathered beds, and hot bronze tubs of water. All coins, and gems had been lost, for they sank far too fast to be spared; and the only form of value the party possessed, was what remained in their bags. Those who still possessed their bags. Damien, Scourge, and Elandor had been able to retain most of their possessions, where Vilyamar was lucky to have been able to keep the haft of the dagger, given to him by Tharanduil in the Elven city of Celeval. Thus, the service they were given was purely from the gracious hearts of the priests and monks of Lavuria. The Church of Alquylenia does not preach given to he who has no earned, and thus, allowed the Church of Lavuria all rights of care, save the healing they granted.
*******
Once healed fully, each and every one of the survivors was brought before Saradin Security, and in turn, gave a full account of their destination, their purpose, and what had taken place on ship. The city, they learned, was the capital of Lethanon, a rich mercantile peninsula nation in the Arnakian sea. Somehow…they had made it to the first of their two destinations. Saradin, as it was, had been Darrads first stop. The king, they never met, but heard much of. His name was Zerxes The Great, and he was young, bold, and a great warrior, very loved by his people. As the party soon learned, in the beginning of his reign, he took up arms against a savage tribe of Hill Giants, who threatened to literally devastate Lethanon. The king, fought beside his men, and stood alone, before the Giant hords, after all his gaurds were slain. This so impressed the Giant King, that he agreed to leave Lethanon forever. Zerxes The Great, is supposedly renowned around Noldaria.
Aside from the previously mentioned, the party was unable to learn much about the city of Saradin, OR it’s nation. For after only three days, Guards in shining, dark blue adamantine mail were assigned to the Temple, and they were not allowed to leave. As the captain of the Guard explained to them, it was feared that if they mingled with the people of the city, it would become known that they survived, and perhaps, the marauders would return for them. This was for their own protection. Indeed, the gaurds treated them well, and even played cards or other such games with willing members of the party.
On the fourth day of their stay, a memorial service was held in memory of the fallen crewmen and party members. It was a muggy morning, and a mist covered the cemetery, that sprawled north of the village. 22 small mounds were erected, and laced with white phantom flowers. Darrad had somehow saved Darek’s sword, and erected it atop his mound, which stood between Mahuo and Marie’s. It was a sad day, and one in which the party was forced to reflect just how real the danger they faced was. Twenty two lives had been lost, and three of them were those of their friends. The tragedy was unforeseen, and, as far as they knew, had nothing to do with their quest. This, in it’s own aspect, filled them with fear the more. Three were lost to marauders…What would they do against a god? Yet their was no giving up. The three had fought, not for a cause; but for life. Were they to fail their mission, that may be the fate of every single living being in Noldaria…..
On a lighter matter, there was another occupant of the Temple that week. A pretty little gnome with shining, grey blue eyes, a long ponytail of red tinged, black hair, and a cheerful laugh. Her name was Rinrin, and her companion was a big, white dog, who was supposed to have long hair, but, save his bushy tail, was shorthaired.
His name was Conjori. She went from a gleeful acquaintance, to an actual member in one night, when she “Overheard” a conversation the party was having concerning there quest, and demanded to know the full story. Against their pleas, she joined them, explaining her quest make a name for her people in the history of Noldaria. This was the perfect opportunity, and she was a cleric. She had faith that her Goddess, Inenhalla would protect her. The party would not mention the obvious protection Inenhall had laid on her previous follower, Mahuo.
On the fifth day, the party bid a fond fairwell to Darrad and his crewman. They had all become good friends, and the goodbye was bitter sweet, but happy in that they were all alive to bid one another fairwell. He had gotten a trip back north, where he would hopefully get another ship of his own. Or perhaps he would join the army. He wasn’t sure. The crewman’s name, by the way, was Goham. Before leaving, however. He informed them that he had booked them a trip by water vessel, to Ralnaria, and infact up the Siris river to Kubal, which is only a half days journey south of Quasal, their destination. It’s leaving 3 days later. Thus, time is spent counting down the days before they can leave, for free, and continue on their mission….with no money.
******
At last the morning arrives that they are to leave, and as planned, a crewman of Sea Chum arrives at the temple to retrieve them. They are washed, shaven, each given extra sets of clothing, which match those that they wear as best as possible(Basically perfectly..even you Damien..because you spent time customizing the clothes they gave you), and even given 14 days hardbread and jerky. Thanks to the Church of Inenhalla, you are refreshed, cleaned, shaven, fed, your weapons are all polished and sharpened, and your armor is fixed. The only ailments lingering over you, are perhaps any sorrow or guilt you carry...
The crewman; who is darkskined and dark haired like everyone else in these lands, has shoulder length curls, and a trimmed goatee. He introduces himself as Ahman, and leads you through the dockside streets of Saradin. The sun is not yet risen, but a misty, pink lingers over the calm water, and the smell of salt and fish laces the wet air. Ships are being untied, and set out, but no shops are open, and the streets are empty save fishermen and guards, who sip sluggishly at mugs, or lean against walls with crossed arms.
The ship he leads you to is small, and barnacle crusted. Her name plague is green with algae. As men toss ropes and set sails, the captain strolls down the plank and greets you. He is a burly man with a full beard and a gleam in his dark eyes. He reminds you of Derak…
He speaks in broken English and a heavy accent
“You be the people we take to Kubal?”
The party nods and he grins, ushering them onboard. It’s a typical seagoing vessel. As he leads them to their rooms, he explains
”Captain Darrad is good friend of mine. I owe him favor, and we go to fish off the Ralnarian Coast anyways. Good heron there. We take you to Kubal because I promise Darrad.”
He shows them their rooms, and they realize they face the same circumstances they did on The Nausicaa. Two small rooms, each with two bunkbeds (Totaling eight) Of course, the party was smaller now….
(And we set sail once again with Noldaria! I needed that break….from the inn and everything…Trust me. But I’m back in full force. I do not require books from you, but I want decent detail…No one sentencers. I want descriptions of character reactions and thoughts, but I don’t need you to always recap everything I have already explained…I appreciate awesome posts like that, but, we want the game to move, and have decent “here and now” detail. Try to post asap. I will set back up the week deadline, but I don’t think it will be a Monday…You all wanted to continue, so I expect the game to move. In this update, I do want a little recap...And how you respond to the Sea Chum and it’s captain…My next update, im bringing you all the way to Quasal..yes…im skipping along…Once in Quasal we settle in though, because you will have some options on what you want to do…you’ll see...when we get there..so post…and Scourge…if you want to give Elandor his outfit..post it..)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:17:18.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
An incredible pain fired upwards from the bard’s ribs as he tried to sit himself up. The ship had gone down, he knew, but beyond that, he had missed most of it. He had blacked out from the crash landing.
Trying once more to rise, Damien cried out softly in anguish before letting himself back down. It felt as though someone had put a knife through his ribs, and was pricking his internal organs rather painfully. Letting his eyes check his body, he found that he was not impaled, just hurt badly.
He let his head roll to the side, and beside him, he saw both Teros and Vilyamar lying unconscious, unmoving. Elandor had a very dark shade of red to his face, and was sitting beside Scourge. A slow smile crossed Damien’s lips, regardless of his injury. The towering figure that was Scourge had been there with him, fighting beside him against the barbarians. He had saved his life more than once up there, and for that, he owed him majorly, he knew.
What took him as largest surprise was the presence of the six dark-skinned men. The bard could only assume that they were residents of the town or city attached to the harbor they had crashed down into, but he wasn’t certain. He didn’t even have the slightest idea as to where they could be. All he could recall with any amount of clarity was fighting with the tattooed shamans atop the cabin...
(OOC: Does Damien recognize who these people are (Not as individuals, but as a culture)? If they speak a language he is at all capable of speaking, he will attempt to communicate with them.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:16:59.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
For the largest of the remaining companions, Scourge was tossed about the deck of the crashing Naussica as though he were nothing more than a pint sized Kender. The Large Theurge was flung over the broken rail from which he had just arisen, and swore he skipped across the water at least once before the world went black.
His mind raced in the blackness, Orion's caw's were what stirred him from the void of unconciousness, and he found himself splayed in the belly of a foreign vessel, flanked and surrounded by 6 strange men.
Orion flew overhead his mind aflutter with worry, but for now even as he raised slowly, making sure his bandana / cowl still covered his features, he would simply have to wait
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:16:46.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
When first the Nausicaa started falling down Elandor’s head got bumped into the door of the “weapon” room. For a moment he considered going in and getting the Elberiel Stone, even if it were just to keep it safe for the captain. He realized that with the shaking of the ship he would never manage to pick the lock in time. He had time, however, to ensure everybody’s luggage was safe on the deck. As the airship skimmed over the tops of houses of the harbor city Elandor hauled bags and sacks up the stairs.
A little later, just as Elandor reached the doorway of the cabin he was a victim of the enormous crash that snapped the Nausicaa in half. He was flung into the air along with all the luggage he dragged behind him. He landed on his back and though the water broke his fall the impact also slammed all the air out of his lunges. As he frantically fought to get to the surface a big sack landed on his head. Dizzied he felt himself being pulled out of the cold and into a small boat. As wind tugged his drenched cloths he shivered. A big figure got seated next to him and he recognized Scourge. He looked for Orion, the raven, but couldn’t find the bird right away.
Slowly they rowed the canoe back to shore, talking amongst each other in strange tongue. The strange words would normally roused an optimistic burst of exciting energy in the little kender. As he was now, this did not happen.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:16:27.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Tharanduil
August 19th/Wednesday
Somewhere in Arnakia
City Harbor
The next few moment’s were a blur in the minds of the survivors. A torrent of rage, sorrow, and guilt flooded the party members as they watched, helplessly, as the killer of two of their party began climbing the rope ladder back to his ship. There was nothing they could do. Marie’s thrown dagger whipped by him, and, before hooking over the starboard railing from the curve of the ships decent.
Scourge scrambled back on deck, and blasted a fireball at the belly of the ship, just as Thrundier disappeared over it’s edge. The white hot explosion scorched the skeletal belly of the ship, but did not seem to damage it.
Damien, in desperation, tried to fling his cloak over the face of his opponent. The wind had intensified a great deal since the loss of The Nausicaa’s wing, but in the heat of battle, he hadn’t noticed it. His cloak fluttered up, and was snatched out of his grip, before billowing over the stern of the ship.
As Marie ran to the nose of the ship, to help a bloodied and desperate Darrad, Vilyamar rushed to Teros’ aid. Wrapping his arms around Teros’ shoulder’s he pulled with all his might. Teros cried out in pain. The marauder was too heavy. The bar Teros gripped creaked louder, and the half elf peered over the edge. The marauder had lost his weapon and was clinging helplessly to Teros’ legs. He had no choice. Either get the marauder off of Teros, or they would both die. Muttering for the desert warrior to hold on, Vilyamar leaned back and began to rummage through his pockets, but stopped…
The entire battle seemed to halt, as the ship suddenly swooped like a diving bird of prey from a mountainous ravine, and over a harbor city. For but a second, the city was a whitewashed blur just below. Teros closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as a building suddenly wizzed towards him. A sudden impact yanked him into a swing, but he held onto the bar, which creaked even more, and revealed a visible crack. The marauder had struck the building. Teros hadn’t any time to climb though. Another building rushed towards him, and he lifted his now very light feeling legs. The building struck the ship….
For but a moment, the ship was skating the rooftops of the city, causing terrible shutters to run across it’s length. Damien could see behind the ship, a trail of both white, and wooden debris as it was kicked up. The shutters knocked Vilyamar back, into the outside wall of the cabin. Marie fell against the railing, and Darrad gripped it tightly. His opponent also gripped the rail as they stared over the nose in frozen dread. Damien and his opponent toppled over one another, and tried to scramble to their feet, but before any could react, the ship hurled over the city, skated across the harbor, and with terrible force, smashed into a large, anchored ship.
The few, bored members still aboard Arnakian’s Pride had watched in shock as the crumbling windship skipped across the harbor once, before smashing like a terrible torpedo into her side. Most of the members had leapt overboard just in time. The Nausicaa had skipped once, and, had collided with the ship on a descent. Thus, her nose smashed the deck of the ship, not its side.
The nose, where Darrad, his opponent, and Marie stood, disappeared in an explosion of wood and rope. Teros was yanked from the side of the ship, and hurled, helplessly through the air. As was Damien, his opponent, Scourge, Vilyamar, a random crewmate, and Elandor, who had just appeared in the doorway of the cabin. All aboard were flung helplessly through the air, and shower of lumber.
They came to in the belly of a rescue canoe. Damien tried to sit up, but the piercing pain in his ribs pinned him down. Rolling his head to either side, he could see an unconscious Teros, a red faced and very shaky Elandor, Vilyamar, also unconscious, and pouring blood from his soaked robes, and Scourge, sitting beside Elandor on a nearby bench. All were soaking wet, and at both the nose and the stern of the ship sat 6, dark skinned and bearded men in brightly colored pants. 4 were shirtless and very well toned. Even the older two, who appeared to be in their 60’s. All 6 were paddling furiously. The other two wore sleeveless tunics. Try as he might, he could not sit up.
Scourge and Elandor sat on one of the middle benches of the canoe, staring at the wreckage they were quickly leaving behind. The Nausicaa had snapped in two, and it’s nose had already sunk beneath the waves. It’s stern seemed molded into the shattered deck of the anchored ship, and both were already halfway sunk. The harbor was littered with lumber, and as the canoe made it’s way closer to shore, two longboats filled with men in turbans, and shiny armor passed them, on their way to the wreckage.
(Sorry for the crap post…I’ve been having a rough time, and just wanted to get the game going. If there is any confusion just ask. You all remember flying quite a ways, and Scourge and Elandor remember hitting the water. Scourge…do you still have you’r hood up, despite being soaked? Elandor and Scourge are the only two that did not go unconscious, and realize that the men in the canoe rescued you all..though they do not speak your language, or common.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:16:14.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
Pain.
Riveting, burning pain coursed through the half-elf’s body. Thrundier was strong, so very strong. Even a man who’s training in resoluteness could be overcome by pain. Ignoring as much of it as he could, Vilyamar launched himself at the barbarian. There was little fight to begin with, let alone in the end.
He fought as well as he could, with a fractured hip and pain now coursing to his mind from everywhere imaginable when he heard the barbarian speak. Vil was surprised that he had still regained conciousness. He knew very little of what had just transpiried, and he could see nothing but stars and darkness. His suspicions lay in the direction of the cabin wall and once he finally removed himself from there he saw that he had been thrown, like little more than a doll, at the wall. Marie was desperately trying to fend off the huge man’s axe when he turned towards the monk who was still attempting to regain control of his own limbs. Vilyamar could do nothing save hold his breath when the axe cut across his chest. Fear had made his legs let go, and that alone had saved him from being cut fully in two, but he could now do nothing to ward off the axe that sliced open his stomach. Blood and horror filled Vilyamar’s vision as his own intestines became entwined in his hands.
“…I shall claim the stone, and pick your eyes.”
For this line was the final words the monk expected to hear, his eyes widening not in the horror of his own death but in the implication in the those words.
Darkness consumed his thoughts, and he knew no more…
Blurred light was the next thing Vilyamar remembered. He felt something, a natural force, giving him strength again, but as he tried to sit up, or move at all, the world seemed to go black again.
Again came the force, this time Vilyamar felt energized enough to stand. Every muscle in his body still screamed as he moved them and his hip burned bright in his mind. It had been a while since he had felt so damaged, but still he remembered his training. He leaned against the damaged cabin wall, concentrating on his hip. The muscles moved in specific movements, working the bone together, setting it properly. The pain eased a little in his mind. He still had many cuts, and now he stilled or at least slowed all blood flow from them as much as possible and used his will to close a few small slices on his hands.
Opening his eyes and feeling much better, though not nearly perfect, he saw Thrundier calling his horn. Rage entered his heart then, but wisdom also filled his brain. This foe was not one to be taken lightly ever again. He saw, though, two heads in his hands and the monk’s gaze fell gravely to the sight of Derek Rigwall. He sighed only, there would be time to weep later.
“Do not entertain any thoughts of taking the uuvanimo down from his perch,” Vilyamar said in a relatively calm voice to Marie and completely ignoring the pain from the facial bruising he had sustained. Bruises would heal in a short time. “Saving three will be better than avenging two, for we shall have another chance at redemption and vengeance. Let us help the others first, lest we all die.”
With that, Vilyamar drew his hand away from the shuriken, which he had been holding on to. Time was of the essence and the half-elf did not know how long they others could survive. Rushing as fast as he could out of the cabin, Vilyamar entreated himself to a glance about the deck of the former windship. His first instinct was to help the captain, whose life force must surely have been dimming. His movement seemed slower than before, and he looked exhausted. But the monk knew that Scourge and Teros would require his help now.
“MARIE! Assist the captain and his final crew. They did not deserve to die this day.”
With that Vilyamar moved as fast as he could to the edge of the ship, beginning to help Scourge up and over the rail. His wounds seemed much more critical to the task of holding on that did Teros’s but both would need help.
((Healed 16 health as per “Wholeness of Body” = Wounds healed in priority 1) Major Bleeding 2) hip 3) nose 4) bruising
Assisting Scourge over the rail first, then Teros and the man. Vilyamar will try to save the marauder to, but to keep as a prisoner. Should a life debt be not enough for the man, he will assist in killing him, then move to help Darrad and the other crew member and finally Damien if it gets that far.
PS I have no idea how we will survive this thing FALLING!!))
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:15:57.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
Having nearly effortlessly killed the foul barbarian before him, Teros turned to get a breif over look of the situation once again, sword already up for the barbarian that would take the dead one's place.
But he never came, instead he was met with a lerch, and suddenly he found himself slidding over to the edge of the ship. Men desperately tried to hold onto anything they could, but sure enough some of them slid over and down to the horrible death that awaited them below. Thinking fast Teros reached out for a piece of the rail, and immediatly felt his hand connect. With desperate reflexs he moved his other hand around the rail and held on as tightly as possible, he was secure for now. That thought was soon put to rest as a barbarian latched onto his thigh, gripping it tightly.
The pain was nearly blinding. The man held on tightly enough, but his wounds were being stretched by this man, no doubt making them worse. Grinding his teeth he tried to pulled himself up but soon found it hopeless, and looking down he could see that there would be no way to get the man off without some major risk to himself. Instead he held on as tightly as possible and watched the remains of the battle.
He soon wished he had not. He caught the end of a battle between two giants, between some huge barbarian and Derak. Unable to aid his closest friend in the group he watched as the man deliverd the killing the blow, cutting Derak's head from his body. A cry of defiance and rage ripped from his throat as he watched the man take Mahou's head and begin his cowardly retreat. All physical pain was in the background now, all he could feel was his urge to punish and inflict pain upon these people who dared to call themselves men. They were monsters, nothing more. Fingers white from holding on he tried once more in vain to lift himself up, but soon returned to his slumped position. It was up to his friends to save him, but just in case they were too busy he said a prayer out loud in Ralnarian to his goddess...
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:15:42.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
Smiling as his slender blade licked inwards to penetrate the chest of the shaman, Damien’s mindset quickly changed to panic when the great spire appeared in his vision. Throwing himself flat, the bard was able to avoid the worst of the shock that rumbled throughout the entire ship as it collided with the pinnacle, tearing away the left wing of the craft.
Feeling like his brain had become unhinged within his skull, Damien quickly leapt to his feet, hanging onto his rapier with a secure grip, and trying to keep his balance. Wind was powerfully rushing around him, and he saw that it was the result of a huge downward spiral from the ship.
Time was running out. He needed to quickly kill the remaining man before he could exit the ship and get away. It was because of them that the ship was no longer able to be maneuvered, and they would pay the ultimate cost. With a powerful lunge, the bard lanced his sword into the flank of the shaman, landing a second quick stroke across his chest when he turned. On the offensive, Damien was readying for a finishing shot when his body suddenly erupted with pain, originating from his left shoulder blade.
He stumbled forward, and looked behind to see that he had been slammed in the back by one of the barbarians, gripping a large hammer tightly. The attacker bled from somewhere Damien could not see, though, and this gave him something of an advantage. He was hurt, and probably weakening from the blood loss.
The one chance he had was not about to be taken from him, though. Damien twisted about and hurled himself forward, rapier snaking ahead of him. With absolute precision, he twisted his wrist to bring it horizontally, opening up the shaman’s belly and dropping him to the deck. He barely had enough time to react to the marauder, who pressed onwards. With honed reflexes, he nimbly dodged the attack, and had his arm cocked to thrust when he was interrupted by a horn blast. Both himself and his opponent stopped, looking to the deck below.
Damien’s gut wrenched as he saw the headless body of Derak laying in a pool of gore on the wood planks. Towering above the warrior was the leader of the raiders, holding Derak’s head like some sort of trophy.
They could not be allowed to escape! In a fury, Damien launched a fierce swipe for the marauder’s head, though he was halted short by the haft of the battle hammer. Drawn back for a return blow, the bard leapt out of the way, twisting in midair to clear the impact zone. Landing gracefully, Damien pulled his cloak around his body, hiding all but his face. Though he kept his rapier at the ready, his free hand worked at the clasp, undoing it with an inaudible click, lost in the sounds of battle. Slender fingers gripped the collar tightly, and he made his move.
Acting as though he were intent on throwing another slash, Damien twisted about at the last moment, whipped his cloak forth instead. The dark material sailed forth, flaring out into a large shroud which he hoped against hope would envelope his foe’s head.
(OOC: Damien has thrown his cloak for the marauder’s head, hoping to blind him. If successful, he will quickly dispatch the barbarian (If possible). If unsuccessful, he will try to kick for the crotch (One attack, not two), and then next round, attack with rapier.
I hope this is okay!)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:15:25.
|
Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Marie
Marie stood stock still with horror, her eyes wide and skin paling with every passing moment. He’s dead….he saved my life and he’s laying there dead. Thoughts rushed through her head faster than she had thought possible until this moment. The man that killed Derak was getting away, but on the other hand her friends were dangling precariously off the side of the ship. She turned to Vilymar clasped his shoulders, looking him in the eyes to help focus her wavering attention and his as well. “The others must be helped, you go to them now and I will be there in a moment.” She blinked then and turned around to face the murdered. “Call me a whore, and then kill my friend?! What kind of Lady do you think I am?! Do you think I will let you get away with this you pathetic excuse for a living man!” She hurled the insult at him vehemently, not caring what was going to become of it….the concussion was obviously in play. She drew one of her daggers as throws it at him with all her might, aiming for whatever vital part was open. “Disappear from this life like the bastard you are!”
---------------------------------
If she hits and knocks him down she will advance…if she thinks there is a slight chance she might kill him. If she still does but does not believe in her chances she will run to top of the cabin, hoping the extra advantage will improve her odds.
If she misses she will throw another and then rush to help Vilymar before it is too late.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:15:02.
|
| |
View/Edit Your Profile | Staff List | Contact Us
Use of the RDINN forums or chatrooms constitutes agreement with our Terms of Service.You must enable cookies and javascript to use all features of this site.
|
|
What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
