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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
Absently Elandor fingered the inn’s silverwair while the innkeeper pointed out where they needed to go on his old weathered map. A much prized possession, such a map. There was no doubt that Elandor wanted to have it. Still, he knew that stealing was wrong, and he didn’t want to lower himself to taking what wasn’t rightfully his. When they were ready to leave he jumped from his chair at the bar, a tin fork with a missing prong sticking from under his belt. The elven fork lay shining and silvery between the crumbs and cheese-bits on his plate.
The cool, pleasant chill of morning promised a great day. The visit they gave the general store was just the beginning of a series of exciting events. Elandor loved stores that were packed to the brim with stuff to buy… well, to finger, observe, feel, taste and absently slip in one’s pockets. Elandor bought rations for the flight, a small blanket and paid for a handful of nuts that somehow found their way into his vest pocket.
As the streets slowly filled Elandor and Scourge found the magic shop the innkeeper had pointed out. Amazement grabbed the kender on the shop’s doorstep. Was this his dream come true? A shop full of wonderful objects of mysterious power? His pouches would definitely be to small to carry all these items. The wild images of Elandor’s imagination were ripped to shreds by the arrival of the shopkeeper. The man made some comment of discrimination that the kender had long ago grown accustomed to. In fact, he understood that those kind of remarks were just a habit, and did not apply to him. Soon he found himself wandering the shop while Scourge bargained for a nice price for the mask Elandor had donated him when they first met.
His glasses were tight on his nose as he examined the items in the shop curiously. Maybe there was something they could trade for the mask? Something they needed on their journey?
The highlight of the day without a doubt was the entry of the inner city and the wonders that lay beyond. Elandor felt humbled under all the riches that radiated from all around him. It was not so much that diamonds were cobbling the streets, but an undertone of wealth was perceptible. Then the windship came into view. If he hadn’t been escorted by his friends Elandor would’ve let himself go into a jumping frenzy of excitement. The knowledge that he was to board such a beautiful and extraordinary vessel almost sent too much electric pulses through the small brain. Elandor’s toes tingled, wanting to sprint forward. His hands shook from holding back the urge to touch and feel this wonder of crafting.
Then he couldn’t resist any longer. He rushed ahead, running the stairs beyond the reach of the two guards. On the platform he stopped in awe, and very much like what had happened when they first arrived in the elven city, he remained standing in awe as the rest caught up with him.
Elandor was like a child that finds himself in a world of candy. Ok, ok, maybe he always feels like that, but this time it was obvious to all. He had explored every corner they let him visit in the blink of an eye and stood proud and momentous alongside the others as they approached the captain of the Nausicaa.
Triumphantly he produced the gem from his pockets and held it in front of the captains nose. He made sure not to let the man hold it. You never knew if it would somehow make it into the man’s pouches by accident.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:07:38.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
(OOC: Not gonna bother backposting, my character does nearly nothing important)
After meeting at the appropriated spot, where the monk had stood waiting for over a half hour before the others assembled after having completed their errands, the entire party moved through the now thick crowds of the midday. A scowl appeared, unnoticed, beneath the cowl of his hood when they were escorted, but he let the dishonor go. They would not, could not, know of their mission. If they did, the reaction could be of any varying styles, most of them hostile, or at least hindering. As much as humans changed things in their lifetime, such enormous changes as this news would bring could perhaps be even too much for these people.
The airlifts were almost as the shipyards that could be found at port cities on the coasts. Vilyamar had never travelled far by a ship, and had that had only been on a riverboat, once, a very long time ago. His eyes widened along with the others as they viewed the single airship that hung at the end of one of the catwalks. It was an awe-inspiring sight for them all, its gigantic wings like those of a fabled dragon-kin.
The captains eyes narrowed and he set his rather beefy hands on his hips while the guard explained the party's request.
“Ye seek my services do ye? Where be ye heading and what do ye have to offer? We make no side trips. We are stopping in Saradin, the Capital of Lethanon, an’ then we head to El Jalnine. That would be the Capital of Ralnaria.”
His eyes paused for a moment on Teros, before skittering over the others.
“Their be eight of you. I will accept ye for 5,000 Gold. You’ll be feeding yerselves though, and sharing two rooms. That’s all we have.”
Vilyamar looked about to the others and as they all nodded in agreement, he motioned to Elandor to come forward.
"The gem they gave us, Elandor. That should be suitable payment for our...accomodations. We have no other choice, it seems. We accept your offer," the half-elf said. The slight melodic tones in his voice may have aroused suspicions of the captain and any others in earshot. It did not matter much. He hid his identity to avoid arousing questions and badgering, not to prevent stories. It was a little amusing to know that he might be the focus of some story told by the captain. Perhaps it might even be blown out of proportion. He nearly laughed aloud at the thought of a tale of elven rangers travelling when it was this group of misfits. Though surely they could not mistake Scourge, nor Elandor, nor Mahou and having a Ralnarrian would be part of it as well. But the others might blend well.
The blue crystal was presented to the captain, watching it and him closely. Should the captain not accept it, it may likely be the end of their travels. But by the look in his eyes, and the guards, as Elandor produced the gem, Vilyamar believed that they had never seen such a single expensive stone ever. Except perhaps on royalty, but what royalty would stoop to this?
As the bard passed, a few words were hissed in animosity.
“Not every decision is your’s to make, so don’t act like it,”
The monk placed a hand on the bard's shoulder and kept it there, preventing the human from fleeing the conversation so quickly. "Do not forget who perhaps put us in dire straits before, young human. And this was not my decision, for it had already been decided. Next time, you may wish to take this role yourself...if you are competent in it..." Vilyamar said back in low undertones. The semi-leadership position had to be filled by someone, and since the Ralnarrian wasn't exactly opening up, nor was any of the others, Vilyamar thought it his duty to take that charge.
(EDITED! Sorry, Elandor for presuming, I let you present the gem)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:07:19.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elderast
August 12th/Wednesday Morning
Northern Thollin
City Of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
One by one, the party member’s made their way groggily down the stairs and into the common room; where, huddled about the meager breakfast provided before them on the bar table, they listened to the little kender inquire as to the whereabouts of the Lifts. Master Hillock, who was still rubbing at the likely permanent bags beneath his eyes, set a tin fork with a missing prong, and a rather beaten tin knife down before the Kender.
Letting his dark eyes wander over the party, he stroked at his long beard a moment, before grunting
“Th’ lifts eh? Aye I know where th’ lifts are. But ye best be packing more than a couple coppers if ye wish to board a windship. The only ships that folk that aren’t royalty can board are cargo ships, an even they be particularly pricey. Nomatter. If seek them you do, Ole’ Master Hillock will direct ye.”
Popping a cheese ball into his mouth, and reaching under the counter, he brought up a map. The edges were frayed and blackened, and it’s surface smudged and badly soiled. It looked as if it had survived a kitchen fire and 3 kingdom wars.
“Ye see this?”
The innkeeper’s grubby finger was pointed at what appeared to be a wine spill.
“This is where we be. Ye follow this here street towards the outer curtain of Elderast’s Castle, but ye can’t go in the main gate. Ye gotta scurry about this street east until ye reach a smaller portcullis. A sign will point out the lifts to ye. They be located atop the catwalks of the outer curtain…which in this city, is actually the inner curtain.”
He chuckled at his attempt at a joke, before downing whatever was in his tin cup and standing straight.
“Anything else ye be wanting?”
At the barrage of questions on where they could find food, clothes, and even a magic appraiser, he leaned back over the map, and pointed out each and every recommended shop they go to. Apparently he didn’t sell carry on rations, but it didn’t seem to matter. Every shop he pointed out was on the block that his inn cornered.
Thanking the man, who hurriedly snatched back his silverware from the kender, the party turned in their keys and headed out the door. Sunlight graced the tops of buildings, but still could not reach the street, which gleamed wetly with morning dew. The morning was cool, but the azure sky promised a bright, and likely very warm day.
Taking a moment to devise how to go about hitting up the shops in the shortest amount of time, they decided to head the Traveler’s Pal, which apparently was the General store, first. They would gather what rations where needed, then split to whichever store they needed to visit next, before meeting back at the streets corner, before the Jester’s corner. It was generally agreed on that they would need to be quick, seeing as they did not know what time the Windships left, and noone cared to find out the hard way.
The streets were quite clear in this early hour, which relieved the party. There would be no long lines or shoving through crowds, and so their errands should come to a conclusion within a half an hour.
As they strolled the damp, cobblestone street, their many, booted footsteps clicked and echoed off the silent faces of shaded buildings. They began to feel as if people should be staring out their windows at them, but none did. A small group of grubby boys stopped chasing a rather fat, yellow cat with sticks, and stared as the group passed. As did several housewives, standing on their porches, shaking off mats and watering plants. They waved or smiled, however. Travelers in odd clothing was not so unordinary in Eldarast.
The general store was not a disappointing store. Not only was it big, but it boasted a very wide range of goods, from farming tools to weapons, to food and clothing. The old man who ran the shop was friendly and toothless, and sold his goods at very fair prices.
Marie was very pleased to find an assortment of clothing and cloaks. After all, it should be obvious that Eldarast, the capital of Thollin would possess such variety even in it’s general, commoner stores. It held contact with many, many nations at all times of the year, due to it’s flow of mercantilism, and it’s windships. Even so, the party was surprised.
Outfit Choices
Faded, pale green tunic and leggings, sleeveless and cut off at the knees
Dark brown, wool tunic with black, padded leggings
Silk Tunic and leggings of dark blue, laced in crimson
Thin, Gray and tan tunic and leggings
Black, heavy cloak
Gray, thin cloak
Brown, thin cloak
Dark green, heavy cloak
Black, heavy boots
Brown, Heavy Boots
Gray, Heavy boots
Black, light boots
Brown, Light boots
Gray, light boots
(Marie, simply select what you want. All outfits are 3 coppers, all boots are 2 coppers, and all cloaks are 1 copper, accept the silk outfit...it’s 1 silver.)
The selection of weapons was not particularly intriguing, and the rather impressive assortment of hoes, rakes, and plow spikes did not seem to captivate the party as might have been expected. And so, ignoring the very large collection of irrelevant vases, hats, bags, purses and the like, the party was able to buy their share of dried jerky, and…fruitcake. After buying his share of rations, Damien’s inquiry as to where he would be able to find a pair of Boots of Elvenkind enforced such a show of laughter, and toothless grinning from the shopkeeper, that he decided grimly that for dignities sake, his search end there.
Teros was quick to buy his rations and, after the others left the shop, and while Marie was still looking through the different sets of clothes, he strolled about the isles, until he came upon a decent selection of journals.
Journal Selections
Black, Leather With flap and wrapping strip
Brown, Leather With flap and wrapping strip
Tan, Leather With flap and bronze buckle
Tan, Hemp With bronze buckle and beaded wrapping strip
Gray, Hemp Plain
(All are 1 copper)
He could find only one ink well, but it’s quality surprised him. He could not recognize what stone it had been carven from…perhaps obsidian, but it 8, smooth, faceted sides. Carven in Common Runes along every other of it’s sides, he could read Knowledge, Wisdom, Secrets, and Lore It cost 1 Gold Piece. The gray, feathered Ink pen cost 1 copper…
**********
Having left the general store behind, Scourge and Elandor made their way towards the magic shop. It was only 4 buildings down, and the kender was equally curious about the worth of the mask he had found. Though the building was double storied, as was the norm in this city, it appeared smaller, and squat, compared to those on either side of it. It’s chimney was slightly crooked, and an odd, spicy odor laced the cool morning air outside it’s front door.
Pulling the door open with a creak, Scourge let the little kender in, before stooping under the doorway himself. The spicy odor was far more pungent now, laced with a slight undertone of dust, old leather and guano…A typical magic shop. The man that greeted them was perhaps not what one would expect from a magic shop owner. His shoulders were broad, and his smile clean and white. His thick hair flowed to his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard graced his chin. His eyes darkened as they fell on the kender, but his smile remained.
“A fine morning to you, my rather voluminous friend.”
He smiled at Scourge, and added.
“The kender is to remain in eye range at all times. Aside from that, how may my services benefit you?”
Pulling the horned mask from within his dusky robe, and laying it on the table before the man, Scourge let Orion do the talking.
“My mate here would like to inquire as to the price range of this mask. If you are fair and honest, we may or may not decide to barter with it.”
The man raised an eyebrow, though it seemed directed more at the raven’s final statement than the fact that it was a raven who made it. He was used to strange customers. This was a magic shop. Business was dealt. Names where not given, alignments where not asked.
“My dear sir. I am always honest. Now if I may have a look..”
The man grabbed the mask by it’s temple horns and held it up, peering into the hollow eye sockets. This is the headgear of a shaman of the guglock tribe. A rather arcane yet common type of goblin in the wildernesses of this area. The shaman themselves are placed at leadership positions, and are highly influential. The mask of the shaman is not most common of artifacts, but is also not the most difficult to create. It’s magical properties are rather simple…”
Closing his eyes for a moment, the man lay the mask down and, holding his hands palm down over it, began to hum softly, running his hands along it’s outline, just inches above it’s surface. Scourge kept an eye on Elandor. After a moment, the man’s eyes opened once more and he set his hands on the table.
“I will give you 3,000 Gold Pieces for it. No more. No Less. That is about it’s average worth. Scry me if you wish. I am not lying.”
(Scourge, you may do as you will….You will find out he is NOT lying though..sell or don’t sell, include in you post.)
On their way back from the magic shop, Scourge was able to swing into a clothing store, where he found his search for black fabric and silver filching easily concluded. The fabric was, however..Silk. The total cost would bring him to about 5 GP.
****
After they left the general store, Teros and Marie swung by the local Jeweler. It would be a short stop, as the Jeweler seemed to lack the variety the two had seen previously. Yet Teros was able to find a very beautiful, silver ring which seemed to spiral around a many faceted star diamond. In the sunlight which now reached the window’s it cast a myriad of little rainbows onto Teros’ dark skin. The price, as he would find out, would be 500 gp. (Your diamond that you received from Tharanduil is 1000 gp) After trading his diamond for the ring and a smaller, white diamond worth 500 gp, he was finished.
****
Indeed the party was able to conclude it’s business early and, just as the suns warm rays were finally splashing against doorsteps, and the streets were beginning to fill with peasants and merchants, pions travelers, the group was reformed outside the Jester’s Hour, and set off in the direction of the castle.
One can find it amazing how suddenly a city street can go from the gray, sleepy gloom of dawn, to the early morning congestion of a hustle bustle marketplace. It seemed as if on cue, the city were suddenly alive and very busy. Yet the party was able to find it’s way rather quickly through the crowds, and in no time, stood before the massive, main gates of the castles outer curtain. Guards stood atop the walls, and on either side of the heavy, iron portcullis. It’s thick teeth were down, barring direct passage. Through the bars, the party could see the castle beyond. It was huge. Massive buttresses and towers jutted about the main castle like the thorns of a stone crown. Their walls were smooth and pale in the sunlight and, high above, birds circled the green and white banners of Thollin.
Remembering their instructions, the party followed a street which ran perfectly parallel along the wall, until they came to a smaller gateway leading through the wall, between two guard towers. Guards also stood at this entrance, and as the party tried to pass, they barred their way.
“What business have you in the Service of the Royal Courtyard?”
The party explained their business with the lifts, and the guards nodded. Two were ordered to escort the party, and did so without hesitation. Beyond the gateway, the party could see more than just the castle. Many, many large, stone buildings were built along the walls and sides of the keep. Their were smithies, shops, fountains, Even a sparring yard. Apparently the guards had thought the group not royal enough, or rich enough to pass without supervision. In fact, they weren’t….They wore simple armor and though customized, for the most part, simple clothing.
As the guards led them along the wall, towards a set of stairs that led to the catwalks above, the party noticed that they could see the nose of what was obviously a windship. A massive, wood and sail fin, stretched over the wall like the wing of some great bird. Most of the party had never seen such a structure, and as they climbed the stairs and stood now on the large, flat platform that made up the lift, they stared at it in awe. There was only one windship. Perhaps the king owned more, perhaps windships were indeed very rare. Nonetheless, the ship before them was sight enough to behold.
It was about the length and width of a sea going ship, and looked altogether very much the same. Yet it was not as deep, and it sloped elegantly. It possessed no mass and no sails upon it’s deck. Only two massive sail like wings on it’s sides and a great, fish like fin in the back. Her side read in beautiful curving, gold letters The Nausicaa
The platform was strewn with boxes and crates and barrels; and men hustled back and forth from the ship to the boxes, climbing portable stairs that had been slid to the side of the ship. If the party was not so captivated by a flying ship, they may have noticed the spectacular view of the castle on their right, and the city of Eldarast on their left. Since the castle crowned a hill that sloped in the center of the city, and the lifts were located on the castles outer walls, they made for a beautiful view. Of the bustling city, and the rolling hills beyond.
The party followed the guards as they headed towards a particularly husky looking man with a shaved head and two golden hoops in his ears. He wore striped, blue and red pants and tall, black boots. His shirt was a dark, velvet blue and though it tied shut in the front, he wore it open like a sleeved vest. His broad chest shone with sweat even in the early morning sun. He was busy shouting order’s at a group of crewmen who seemed to be struggling with a particularly massive barrel.
“Captain Darrad?”
Said one of the guards, standing behind the man. Whirling around, the captain eyes the guards and the party. He had a blonde, braided beard on his chin, and his eyes were sharp and keen. Yet he did not seem so unfriendly as one might expect.
“Yes?”
“This group of travelers seek your services. I shall need to know if you shall be taking them or not. If not, I will escort them back.”
The captains eyes narrowed and he set his rather beefy hands on his hips.
“Ye seek my services do ye? Where be ye heading and what do ye have to offer? We make no side trips. We are stopping in Saradin, the Capital of Lethanon, an’ then we head to El Jalnine. That would be the Capital of Ralnaria.”
His eyes paused for a moment on Teros, before skittering over the others.
“Their be eight of you. I will accept ye for 5,000 Gold. You’ll be feeding yerselves though, and sharing two rooms. That’s all we have.”
(Well, I apologize for running you through the bartering and such…it eliminated much conversation and detail but oh well…we’re moving along now. Woot! We leave Eldarast!!!)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:07:00.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
Paula stood in the darkness a moment, frozen in anticipation of another attack with her mace at ready, barely daring to breath. She glanced about in the darkness a moment before she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She put her mace away in its sturdy holster, and then pulled the same rod out, filling the room with light.. "Master Johan??" She said, glancing about a moment, before blinking thoughtfully. "Ah, he must have taken my advice.." She mused as she headed for the fireplace..
She set the rod down on the mantle-piece over the hearth, and reached into her pack a moment, withdrawing a simple, thick piece of golden-yellow chalk, with which she carefully traced out a design above the mantle-piece. It consisted of a double circle, within which stood the prominent sun symbol of Lavuria. She redeposited the thick chalk, and drew out another, thinner piece, which which she etched out a myriad of holy signs and banishing symbols within the double circle, and around the sun symbol as well. Finally, she put away that chalk as well, and began tracing the outer circle of the symbol while she softly chanted a prayer of Bless..
The symbol glowed dully against the bright glow of the rod, taking something of a luminescent glow as the Bless spell took affect, and suffused the home in a light field of divine energy.. Paula smiled to herself a moment, content that this would keep the ghosts from returning if they ever tried..
She took her rod, and began to find her way out of the home, but suddenly stopped in the doorway, wincing with a gasped breath to unseen wounds.. She reached up and touched her face where the ghost had so viciously clawed at her before.. "Oh blast.. looks like I will need to stay in the temple tonight to heal these particular wounds.." She muttered to herself, sighed softly as she headed out of the home a bit more carefully..
"Master Johan? Are you out here? Are you allright?" She asked as she stepped out the door, glancing about..
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:06:40.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
Scourge awoke before the dawn's first rays had begun their illuminated dance through the rooms single window. He sat upright and by candlelight so as not to awaken Elandor recanted his spells and prayed to his deity for his blessing that day.
With his preparations completed, he gathered his gear and headed down for the morning repast. He paid the twin coppers to the server and accepted his meal in quiet satisfaction. As talk was made about the plans for the day, he decided he would take in the chance to barter with the locals before they caught their transportation to the next leg of this journey.
((He'll go about trying to do as listed in the General thread sorry it's crappy, but it's late and I ache and am tired <--pity trip turned zzzzZZZZZZ ))
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:05:58.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Marie
As the eastern sky first began to show signs of brightening, a false dawn, Marie opened her eyes. She glanced at the room, panicking for a moment and trying to remember how she got there. Her large green eyes surveying the room, taking in the Satyr and the strange color of the wood that was not found around her home. All this was in the blink of an eye; her years of scouting having her analyze her surrounding, and wake before the sun showed its rosy cheeks. It came to her a few moments later, the sleep finally leaving her mind. -I found them, finally. After all that traveling and all those nights spent under roofs to ask people directions deep into the night, I have found them.- She smiled suddenly, drawing the covers off herself slowly as to not wake her sleeping friend, she got out of bed and walked over to the window. She quietly undid the latch and pushed it open, letting the fresh air into the room to cleanse it of the aroma of drunkenness. She glanced down and saw that she was dusty from the traveling she had done yesterday. Sighing, she walked over to the washbasin, spending the next half-hour cleansing her slight yet muscular form of accumulated dust, shaking out her cloths quickly as well before her companion awoke. As soon as she was as close to clean as she could get she realized that she was stiff and sore from days spent non-stop on the road. He reached up a hand calloused from days spent using her sword and other weapons to massage her complaining muscles.
She more than once grimaced from the pain of finding a particularly sore place, then slowly working it out. This took a long while, her head bowed and her chin resting on her chest as she worked out the last few remaining cramps in her neck. Once that was finished she slowly sat down on the edge on her bed, glancing down at the boots she had removed the previous night. She sighed once more, looking out the window in time to see the sun rise over the horizon, shining its light into the window to warm her skin once more with its rays. She smiled, remembering when she was little and used to lay on a large rock out in the center or the lake, just lay therefore hours until her skin was so dark with tan that she could have rivaled even Taran, a dark man in her pack. She remembered the look on her guardian’s face when she had walked back into the camp, smiling and soaking wet from the swim back to shore. He would look her over and then put on this mask of disproval, his eyes showing his true amusement. He would give her a speech about sunbathing while there was work to be done, and she would stand there, looking properly chastised, but with an answering twinkle in her eye. As soon as he was finished she would say “Yes Sir” And then bow out of the room, going to dry off.
She remembered the long days spent practicing on the shore of that very lake with Zela, the woman who was second in command of the pack. She had held her sword ready, watching as Zela’s made its deadly arch towards her, yet unable to do anything about it. “Girl, you need to learn to use that thing, its not made for looking pretty.” She would say after her arch had ended with Marie’s sword strewn across the ground, “It’s made for defense, for protection. Not only for yourself either, for others, for innocents. For people that cannot defend themselves. You will be there, with this sword.” She would smile and pick up the sword, handing it to Marie hilt first, “It is your friend, your life depends on it. Yours and others, use it well.” Then she would walk off until the next day, coaching her into the swords-woman she was today.
Marie smiled again and pulled on her boots, walking softly across the boards to her companion’s bed, shaking her gently to wake her. “Time to wake…” Just then a knock sounded through the door and she smiled. “See?” She said to the sleepy sentry. “Our companions are waking up.” With that she left her to herself to manage to get ready for the day, slowly making her way down the stairs and into the common room. Her eyes searched the room, adjusting to the light as she looked for her companions. She spotted them and decided that the green clad one was the one that seemed the most pleasant company this day. She nodded to the others and walked over to him, pulling up a chair and asking the barkeep for some breakfast, saying that the price of it was fine.
As it was brought she dropped the necessary coin into the hand of the person that brought it to her and then turned to the man across from her. “Do you know what kinds of supplies are available or not? Mine have grown rather shabby with traveling.” She smiled and glanced down at her breakfast, picking up her fork and using it to pickup something that looked good and escort it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste of food, something that she hadn’t tasted for over a day, all she had had was travel rations and those hardly counted.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:05:43.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
Breakfast came, and the others awoke. The monk simply nodded at the innkeepers suggestion of two copper per person and told the others as they came down of the cost of their meal. That is if they joined him. A few did not, but that was alright. Vilyamar felt it almost his duty to keep the group on task, if not in line. But there was nothing he could do about them waking as he did or sitting as a group. What they did was what they did, and it was fine by the half-elf, so long as it did not endanger their mission.
Vil felt a kinship with the elves that had trusted them with this task. He knew that humans and other outsiders were seldom welcomed, open-arms, to the elven-kin dwellings. HE felt ashamed at their dismissial from the elven kingdom. And his goal was not only to save this world, but to restore the faith of the elves in him and his kin, if not humans in general. Humans came second, for their ways sometimes were truly barbaric. Despite having spent most of his life focusing on those forces within himself, Vilyamar still had garnered an appreciation for the outdoors from his elven kin. He saw some of the harmonies of nature, as the elves did all the time. And he could feel some of the tension sometimes. Perhaps it was because he was not particularly gifted with the abilities that were so natural to elven kind and even to rangers of the woods. He just didn't have that true affinity that the druids and rangers possessed. Otherwise he probably would have strayed down a much different path.
His thoughts were interrupted by a crash of something. Or perhaps a chair being pulled out as the Satyr sat down at his table once more. But it brought his mind back to the present from the past and he realized that all of them would need nourishment on the trip. He did not know much about airships, and this told him to prepare for a journey without much for accomodations and even less for amenities. Seldom had he heard of airships being used transport people, so he decided it best to gather some jerkied meat and bread before they left.
Calling to the innkeeper, or a serving girl, whoever was present, Vilyamar motioned for service.
"What do you have in the way of travelling goods? Anything in the way of food for travelling?"
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:05:18.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Update
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old House/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
After 30 years of tormented wandering, the ghost’s of the old Wilshire House had been broken; and now, as they knelt before the Cleric of Lavuria, who shone with the radiance of the sun, they could feel their hold on the mortal plane slip.
"In the name of the Brilliant Mother and all of her shining glory, I command you, lost souls of anguish, to leave this mortal coil once and for all, and find your way amongst the afterlife you have avoided for so long. Be gone! And find the eternal peace or damnation, whichever it may be, that awaits you!"
Like a beacon the symbol she held on high cast a white light across the room, washing back the shadows. As it swept over the ghosts, it seemed that they began to steam, almost evaporate into a mist. The mother screamed in agony, and clawed at her face. She doubled over in agony as the very fibers of her being rolled off her and dissipated in the holy light. The children made no sound, nor did they squirm. They simply accepted.
The light became so bright that Paula was forced to shield her eyes, and in moments, it faded, and she found herself standing in a dark, silent kitchen…
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:05:01.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
A knock on the door aroused Damien from a troubled sleep. He opened his eyes to the drab grey material that encased his pillow. With a groan, he turned over to face the ceiling, shaking his head slightly to push away the long strands of hair that tickled his nose.
The name Cassie Bernsmith still resonated in his mind, fresh as the moment he heard it the previous night. One day, he swore to himself, he would return and free her, if for no reason aside from allowing her to see the world.
“That’s provided I ever come back,” He muttered grimly as he set himself to work gathering up his belongings for the next day. Donning his dark clothes and spidersilk pack, the bard smoothly buckled on his sword belt, fixed his hair so that it hung straight, and made his way down to the common room.
Elandor, Vilyamar, and Teros were already present downstairs. Damien acknowledged them with little more than a slight nod of his head as he set himself down to a table to eat. Though the breakfast presented didn’t appear to be the most appetizing of meals, he was hungry, and had eaten very little the previous night. Taking a helping that he figured would satisfy himself, he slowly began to eat.
(OOC: Sorry this is so crappy, but I don’t have a huge amount to work with. Damien will sit by himself unless spoken to, and when he is finished his meal, he will pay and then try to obtain some rations for the trip ahead.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:04:47.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
A knock on the door aroused Damien from a troubled sleep. He opened his eyes to the drab grey material that encased his pillow. With a groan, he turned over to face the ceiling, shaking his head slightly to push away the long strands of hair that tickled his nose.
The name Cassie Bernsmith still resonated in his mind, fresh as the moment he heard it the previous night. One day, he swore to himself, he would return and free her, if for no reason aside from allowing her to see the world.
“That’s provided I ever come back,” He muttered grimly as he set himself to work gathering up his belongings for the next day. Donning his dark clothes and spidersilk pack, the bard smoothly buckled on his sword belt, fixed his hair so that it hung straight, and made his way down to the common room.
Elandor, Vilyamar, and Teros were already present downstairs. Damien acknowledged them with little more than a slight nod of his head as he set himself down to a table to eat. Though the breakfast presented didn’t appear to be the most appetizing of meals, he was hungry, and had eaten very little the previous night. Taking a helping that he figured would satisfy himself, he slowly began to eat.
(OOC: Sorry this is so crappy, but I don’t have a huge amount to work with. Damien will sit by himself unless spoken to, and when he is finished his meal, he will pay and then try to obtain some rations for the trip ahead.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:04:26.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
Teros awoke and moved downstairs with the group feeling energized and ready to go. The soft bead and warmth that could only be given to one from by the combination of a real bed and a real structure. Even so, he was dissapointed to see that he couldn't sit down and spend some private time praying to his goddess in the new sunlight that she offered. Still he knew that there would plenty of time to do that later on.
He watched the Kender eagerly pull out the money required and buy the food that the innkeeper had for them. He himself took a few steps forward next and pulled out the neccessary money. He was hungry, and it would do him no justice to go about his day in this state. As he took his food he thought about that. He needed to buy things, specifically, rations for the flight.
As his mind drifted over things to buy he picked up a few other things. He smiled to himself as he thought of them in order, but kept this to himself as he ate his food, taking his time and enjoying this little time to himself and his thoughts.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:04:10.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
Elandor yawned and regarded the world through dreamy eyes. He had just finished a nice dream about giants and molten diamonds.
Breakfast was waiting downstairs, the only obstacle to get it easily taken. Elandor gladly offered the 2 coppers in exchange for a nice meal. The bread smelled delicious and the cheese looked very inviting.
The small kender climbed on top of the bar stool again that had seated him the previous night. Noticing how the rest was slowly awaking he sat contently, nibbling his bread. Politely he gave the innkeeper a nod and a sleepy smile. It had been long since he had enjoyed a bed as good as this inn’s.
“Mister Jester, your food and your beds are really wonderful. As a person with a lot of social contacts I’m sure you know a lot about this city and its surroundings. Can you tell me where we could find an airship in these lands? And could I have a knife and fork with my cheese? I seem to have eaten all my bread already.”
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:03:38.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
Paula gathered her wits and will together, gritting her teeth against the lingering pain of the ghost's claws and screeches as she rose her glamorous holy symbol up high as she stared down upon the misty forms of the ghosts with a stern glare..
"In the name of the Brilliant Mother and all of her shining glory, I command you, lost souls of anguish, to leave this mortal coil once and for all, and find your way amongst the afterlife you have avoided for so long. Be gone! And find the eternal peace or damnation, whichever it may be, that awaits you!" She commanded, and with a great rising force of her own willpower, her holy symbol suddenly let off a swirl of brilliant light and energy as her ability to turn the undead came to its apex. In one great show of divine energy, she flooded the area in a wave of positive energy, intent upon driving the ghosts from the material plane..
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:03:17.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Jester's Hour
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Jester's Hour/Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
After the other’s had made their way up the stairs to their bedrooms, Damien remained in his corner booth struggling to converse with the beautiful maid who had so reminded him of his lost Elena. By now it was very late, and the common room had all but emptied, save the few, random drunkards, who either slumped in their chair’s, snoring loudly, or lay tucked under the blanket of the booth’s shadows.
The other maids had opened the windows, and were busy cleaning up the many, golden and red puddles that lay at the base of overturned cups, and the legs of food and dish strewn tables. A cool breeze swept through the room, carrying out the thick, smoky air, and refreshing Damien’s senses. He hadn’t noticed how hot and stuffy the tavern had gotten.
Yet he realized that, despite his misgivings, he needed to go to bed, and, with yet another apology, stuttered as to why. The maid, who’s name he now realized he did not know, listened attentively, as if what he told her was a tale of interest, rather than an explanation towards a night’s retirement.
As he lay his long, slender hands on hers, he made a promise that widened her eyes, and forced her to look away. Her smooth cheeks flushed crimson, and after a moment, she looked back at him.
“That is a hard promise to make, and I will not hold you to it. Though I assure you, My Lord. If ever you do return to the city of Aldarast, I will be here, serving the same customers in the same tavern.”
For a brief moment, the corners of her lips tilted down, and sorrow glimmered in her green eyes. She quickly wiped it away though, with a brilliant smile.
“Though, Lord LeBlaque; how do you expect to find a girl who’s name you do not know?”
Damien flushed, realizing how foolish he had been to have never thought of asking her name. Grasping her hands, he began to stutter, perhaps an apology, or perhaps the question itself, but she spoke again.
”You needn’t ask. My name is a simple, commoners name. Cassie Bernsmith. It hold’s no grandeur like yours, but I am like a said. A simple commoner.”
She blushed again, and let go of his hands, rising quickly to her feet.
“Well I need to get back to work. It’s a shock I haven’t been scolded yet!”
Damien too, had risen to his feet, and watched as she rushed towards the kitchen door. She stopped and her loose, onyx curls spun about her beautiful face, and bounced off her slender shoulders. Her clear, green eyes met his pale, smoky orbs for a moment, before she said.
“I hope we do meet again, My Lord.”
Bowing slightly, she turned and headed into the kitchen. Damien headed for the stairs and up to his room. The silence that greeted him in the upper hall suggested that the others were already asleep. Unlocking his door, and staggering into the simple room, he undressed and collapsed on the straw cot.
August 12th/Wednesday/Early Morning
Northern Thollin
Jester's Hour/Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
The party slept soundly in the comfort of their beds as the moon climbed the black sky and, with the lighting of the eastern sky, sank behind the dark shapes of Alderast’s buildings. The city rose before the sun, and with the first coos of the early morning doves echoed the first hammer falls from nearby smith shops.
Vilyamar, who was the first to awaken, had spent a good hour preparing mentally for the day to come. After spending another half hour stretching, he washed himself in the big, copper basin that sat in the corner of the room, and got dressed. The day was early, but he did not know what time the ship they were to catch would be leaving, or where to even find the docks. Furthermore, he didn’t know what kind of preparations the others might want to make before leaving. Glancing at the rooms one window, he observed that it was a portrait of motley gray shapes. Picking up his things, he left his room, and knocked on one door at a time, wakening the others.
(Downstairs)
Even through the yellow and red, stained windows, the common room was like a bleak ghost, lingering on after the events of last night. No fire danced in the gray fireplace, and the air was cool. Perhaps last night this would have been refreshing, but in the early morning, the party may have been better satisfied with some warm sunlight. The old, gray bearded tender was sitting at the bar himself, nibbling at a crumbled piece of flat bread, and drinking from a tin cup.
Upon seeing the party, he rises to his feet and moves back behind the bar counter, pulling out a tray of bread, and a plate of balled cheese, and laying before you.
“So how did ye sleep last night? Good I hope. We’re a friendly inn, and I hope ta see ya again.”
In a softer, after-tone, he added
“Breakfast is 2 coppers per person.”
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old House/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
The ghost had turned her back to Paula, who wouldn’t dare waste such an opportunity. The ring fell to the floor, bouncing loudly, and even rolling several feet, but Paula was on it and, muttering the words to ignite the flames of enchantment, her morning star burst into a beautiful myriad of red, orange, blue and yellow flames.
The ghost spun back around, and, opening her mouth far wider than was mortally possible, let loose another terrible shriek. Gritting her teeth, Paula raised the weapon high above her head, and brought it down hard upon the ring. Only made of gold, it shattered instantly, shooting glimmering pieces in every direction. Swinging perhaps a little hard, she realized the morning star had also busted through the floorboards. Leaving a perfectly round punch mark.
The ghost’s screech intensified, and her hands clawed at her cheeks and neck. Dropping to her knees, she too seemed to turn to an opaque mist. They were at Paula’s mercy.
(Once again, I apologize for the lateness. My schedual has been terribly busy, and infact, I typed this up in under 15 minutes...hehe. Nomatter. My training for my job is over, and things should go back to normal. Thanks for your patience)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:02:56.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
Teros nodded to the big man as he offered to room with him. He thought about the offer of ale but quickly dismissed it. Getting drunk was never very fun, only brought pain. In the end it wouldn't be worth it.
"No ale for me. I want to keep a clear head. Lets get to the room, I wanna get up as early as possible tommarow."
He turned to his room and slipped the key inside the lock and turned it before pressing the door open and walking inside. Soon he had his turban and armor off and was laying on his bed where sleep took him as he thought about home...
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:02:16.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
Paula gritted her teeth against the all too familiar pain of the undead's ghastly powers. Luckily, she didn't feel the usual draining sensation she had known so many times before. All too often she had spent a great deal of time recuperating in one of the temple's beds. She almost smirked to herself while reflecting upon those memories.. She supposed all the temple boys would have to find some other excuse to spend all their time with her this time around.
As for the situation here and now.. Subtlety? Maybe another time. For now, Paula raised her mace up high as the she dropped the ring to the floor, and it was certain that the ring would only bounce once before the great mace came crashing down upon it.
And as Paula's hand gripped the mace with certainty, the head of the mace, a great rounded ball of metal studded with spikes, burst into a fiery halo of flames and the head became white-hot so that the mace seemed akin to the sun!
((A pity. Mount Doom is such a scenic location.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 15:01:51.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Update
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
As the ghost lunged, shrieking at Paula, the cleric swept her arm behind her, grabbing a hold of Johan’s tunic sleeve. Yanking him with her, she attempted to dodge the ghost, but was too slow. Like lightning it had lunged at her from across the room and froze now, with her face inches from Paulas.
For a brief moment, it seemed time had stopped. Unable to tear her eyes away, Paula stared into the dead, milky eyes that had transfixed on her, inches away. The woman’s face now appeared to be very, very dead. Though translucent, her skin was gray and drawn tight around the skeletal features of a face long passed away. Her lips were split and looked like old leather, drawn about long teeth that rose like ruins from withered and shrunken gums. Even through the white cataracts that had blossomed like deathshead flowers, her eyes still burned feverishly, reflecting long tended pain and hate in their milky depths. As if a switch had been flicked, she was in action again, swiping at Paula again and again, like an ethereal cat.
Paula, who’s reflexes did not match the unnatural speed of this ghost, and was still off guard, felt a seering pain tear across her left cheek (5d). With the knowledge that she stood between the ghost and Johan, she rose her arms instinctively in an attempt to shield herself from the ghosts onslaught.
Johan had apparently frozen in terror, but as Paula’s arm shoved him out of the entry-way of the stairwell, he became overwhelmed with in panic. Crying out, he stumbled backwards against the wall and, as he watched the Ghost’s attack on Paula, he could not help but slump, frozen in fear.
As Paula fended off the chilling, dead blows of the ghost, she consciously felt her grip on the vial. Risking exposure, she suddenly swept her arm high, and slammed the vial on the ground. Another icy slash ran across her shoulder(7d) but she could not help but smile as the vial hit the ground, and shattered audibly.
Instantly the ghost froze, and behind her, the children, who had been standing at the table, watching, both began to scream again, dropping to the floor. As Paula watched, their rather solid appearance began to fade, until they appeared to almost as two balls of mist, curled on the kitchen floor. The mother spun now to face her children, and, though her back was to Paula, she began shrieking again. The sound was like a dagger run across porcelain. Paula had heard the terrible shrieks and moans of ghosts many a time in her day, and was able to withstand it, despite the hairs that rose on the back of her neck.
Johan, however, who had been crumpled against the wall, covered his ears.
“In the names of the Gods!”
With a cry, he stumbled to his feet and half dove out the doorway onto the front yard.
The ghost had her back to Paula, who could withstand the shrieks the still seemed to chill her soul. Peculiarly enough, the slashes Paula had suffered now seemed to freeze, as if frozen metal had been stuck to her. With every scream the ghost gave, the pain intensified. Paula could feel her head ache with brain freeze, and the cold on her cheek. Yet she realized this may be her only chance to destroy the ring…but how?
(Be thankful this ring can be destroyed in more ways than by the fires of Mount Doom
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:59:48.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
"Watch it!!" Paula cried as she sweeped her arm around behind her, catching Johan on the shoulder and pulling the both out of the angry mother's path. Regardless of whether or not it worked, Paula put herself in front of Johan, for it would suffice to say that the cleric could take far more of a beating than the peasent.
I can't just jump out of the way, he might be spooked and fall down the stairs! Paula thought to herself a moment.. Wonderful.. looks like I might need more than bedrest before the night is done..
If she's still functional by the end of this, Paula is going to begin going about destroying the vial and the ring (prominantly within view of the ghosts), and then catch all three of them in a full-blown turn.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:59:20.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Update
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
Johan nodded uneasily, but followed as Paula headed through the cellar and back up the creaking stairs. He wondered now why he had never bothered to search the cellar in the past, and felt rather foolish for his oblivious surprise at the cleric’s discovery.
As Paula reached the top of the stairs, and pushed open the door, a burst of icy air seemed to lunge down the steps, enwrapping her and Johan in a chilling embrace. Behind her, Johan gave a strangled cry as his lantern fluttered out.
Glancing around the common area, Paula’s eyes widened. It seemed she had walked into an entirely different time, and place. A fire crackled in the fireplace, though it’s flames seemed to give off only cold. Belldonna’s collection of crochet dolls had disappeared, replaced by a massive painting portraying a slender woman with dark hair, embraced in the arms of a tall man with broad shoulders, flowing blond hair, and a moustache. The woman was the same as the ghost that stood not 20 feet from Paula, at the kitchen table, decorated now with a vase of pale white flowers. The two children sat at the table; and though they seemed to be chatting happily with one another, their voices seemed hollow, and echoed eerily off of walls that should not echo.
The mother was setting bowls before the children. From what Paula could see, they were filled with a typical stew of potatoes, carrots, and probably either beef or lamb. Paula could smell no food. Having set down the bowls of stew, the woman’s eyes rose, settling on the cellar doorway, and Paula. This time she did see the cleric. Raising her arms to cover her face, she recoiled violently, shrieking in a voice no living woman could make. The sound caused Paula to wince, and Johan to drop his lantern, covering his ears. Yet he did not run.
Like a thick fog, a greater cold settled over the kitchen. Wisps trailed between the table and chair legs, and a mist had settled like a sea before Paula, reaching only to her shins, completely obscuring the floorboards. The air had become tense, raising the hairs on Paula’s neck. It felt as if a terrible storm were about to burst. The children, who had already begun eating, had started crying, tugging on their mothers pale, flowing gown.
You! Go away, GO AWAY! You will never take my children from me!!
The woman was pointing at Paula. Her eyes had drawn so pale that they seemed to glow. No pupils could be seen. The children were shrieking and crying now, tugging on their mother’s sleeves, but her terrible voice rose up, above them.
You will try to take them from me! Go AWAY!!!!
Suddenly the woman was flying over the table with unnatural, and rather surprising speed at Paula. Her arms were out before her, as if she was to attempt to claw the cleric apart.
DM’s Note
(I will be rolling Reflex for you, after you post your actions. The ghost has lunged at you with supernatural speed, thus, even if you attempt simply to raise your holy symbol, she may reach you first, if your reflex’s aren’t great.)
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:59:01.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
Paula had turned the vial over in her hands, and sighed softly as she slowly shook her head.. "Poison, Master Johan.. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had hoped the children merely fell to sickness, but now I am sure it truly was the mother's doing.. this vial is proof.. however.." She said, glasping the vial in her hand.. "I believe I now know what is holding the children in this realm!"
And then, as if summoned, the ghosts of the children appeared.. Paula's eyes narrowed as she held her mace in one hand, and clasped the vial, the ring, and the chain of her holy symbol in the other before looking back to Johan.. "Remember what I said earlier.." She said, and then marched up the stairs..
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:58:41.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Update
August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital
Johan observed over her shoulder, as Paula withdrew the strange rod. As it’s end was unwrapped, a flood of orange light spilled down the stairwell. The wiry man nodded at her advice, but followed closely behind her, holding his own glass lantern above his head.
The stairs only descended about six feet to an uneven, dirt floor that was pocked with fungus, and littered with rat droppings. The “basement” was simply a massive crater dug into the ground at the base of the house. Thus, the walls were also of crumbling, eroded dirt as well. Due to years of rain, the far wall had eroded so far back, that, as Paula could see, her lantern light shone through a several inch gap between the wall and the actual house. Lantern light through it onto the lawn. The ceiling was so low that even Paula was forced to stoop.
For the most part the basement was empty, save a thick canopy of cobwebs, and the potent stench of mildew and rotten dung. A couple, newly placed crates sat at the base of the stairs. Obviously they belonged to Johan and Belldonna. Yet in the far corner, a pile of much more antique looking, wooden barrels and crates loomed. A small rocking horse with a cracked handle sat off to the right hand side, and a pile of what had once been blankets, now a hay strewn, rats nest slumped against it.
As Paula approached, several of the rodents scampered off, into the shadows of the far corners. Stepping beside her, Johan regarded the barrels solemnly.
“I have never investigated these.”
He said matter of factly. There were three crates, and two barrels. Reaching forward, Paula began prying open the crates, cautiously. The first was filled with old, moldy clothing. Insects had claimed this crate as their own, and fluttered about, attracted to the lights Paula and Johan held. Either ignoring, or batting away the nasty bugs, Paula continued the investigation. The final two crates contained only old claywear, and 3, very old, wooden dolls. The once vibrant yellow and red paints had faded or peeled nearly indistinguishably.
Through Paula’s expertise, she had come to notice that usually, whatever item caused a ghost to linger on the plane of the living, was either one that had to do with that ghosts death, or had to do with a matter that the person was very emotionally bound to, before their death. Nothing she had come across in this cellar thus far had struck her as such an item.
Prying open the two barrels, she beheld that they were filled with books and manuscripts. Apparently the previous owners could read…
Johan stared uninterestingly at the moldy, leather tombs, or rolled, yellowed scrolls. Apparently he could not.
Tentatively, she began withdrawing books and scrolls; scanning their titles before laying them aside as irrelevant. The Earl and The Troll, A Guide to Eldarast, The Laws of the Kingdom, such titles obviously had nothing to do with this particular predicament. Perhaps beginning to lose heart, Paula continued to rummage, until a particular gleam in her lantern light caught her eyes. Narrowing them, she reached forward, and pulled out a small vile, about the size of her thumb.
Suddenly interested, Johan knelt beside her as she rolled it over and over in her fingers. It was empty, save a long dried, brown resin that clung stickily to its base.
“What do you think it is?”
He asked as she reached back into the barrel and pulled forth a weathered and beaten, gray cloth covered book. There was no title, but as she opened, it, the spidery, scrawling writing, and clearly written dates indicated exactly what it was. A journal. The journal of a Mrs Geronde Melcontri.
It had been filled nearly two thirds of the way, and relayed such information as cooking ingredients, favorite places to hike, and the like. It told secrets only valued by the individual who wrote them, and daily events. A typical journal. Yet the final several pages were worth a read. As Johan waited patiently, Paula scanned over them.
Indeed it was true. Her husband had apparently left her, for a woman she had never met. The incident had, as the writer had so eloquently put “destroyed my world.”. As she Paula read, she saw an increasing depression, and loss of ambition. Geronde’s own death was mentioned often, along with continuous mentioning of a previous lover she had had before meeting her now deserter husband. Apparently this lover had died long ago in a tragic accident; yet, with her own husband having forsaken her, the delusional Geronde believed “Michael” still awaited her in the Kingdom of the Gods.
At last, the final page read
…He has taken the life I have on this plane away from me and my children. He has spoiled all pleasantries we will ever claim from this day on, in this mortal realm. He leaves me for another, and so I shall do the same. Michael speaks to me. He loves me still, and he waits for me. In the land beyond I will be happy, and so too will young Gerte and Sawyer. This world holds nothing for us, and though the children don’t yet realize the pain they would face should they stay, I take it as my duty, as their mother to bring them with me. Together we will be happy beyond. Woe to the sorrow’s of this world, and this life. I will reunite with Michael, and we shall be happy again!
The final paragraph ended, and as Paula turned to Johan, both jumped. Beyond, two children, laughing, ran down the stairs. As both investigators watched, the two ran, shrieking in pleasure about the room, as if playing a game of tag, before back up the stairs. At that moment, from above, they could hear the voice of a woman speaking.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:58:24.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Scourge
Orion looked on as Elandor spoke, and even flew closer to sit on the edge of his bed to show is interest in the story, and caw'ed softly as he finished. He ruffled his feathers knowingly thinking no regular fire could melt a diamond, it takes thousands of years and tons of pressure to form such splendor from coal. But he said nothing but "Well then young Kender, keep your aunt's memories with you, close to your heart and perhaps her wisdom will guide you to cunning victory as it did her." Not sure what else to say he fluttered back to his bedpost and prepared for sleep.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:58:10.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
The time had come for them to once more bed themselves in an inn, like they had done so long ago, before their joined adventure began. Elandor couldn’t be less tired. All the energy he had stored, hoping to go after the two men and their imagined scandalous plans, was still waiting to be released.
Their new companion had chosen a room with Mahou and Elandor found himself with lots of questions locked inside. Shoving them into the back of his brain he looked around the room. Scourge lay on one of the beds, sleeping so it seemed. Orion was awake and looked at the kender curiously. Elandor sighed and seated himself on his bed. He loosened one of his pouches and took out an oddly shaped stone. He felled the smooth sides of it and held it up for the bird to see.
“You see this? Looks like a piece of crap, but you’ll never guess where it came from! I inherited this stone from my aunt. She was an adventurer of some fame. Nicolette Brightwise, that was her name. She told me the story herself, you know.”
He regarded Orion, to make sure the bird was paying attention. The kender’s eyes were shimmering with joy.
“One day she encountered a beautiful gorge, overgrown with spring green trees and refreshed by a wild stream. Such a marvelous place just calls for investigation. So my aunt strolls down to the water when she suddenly hears a ferocious bellow from down-streams. Softly as only the best of rogues can walk she tiptoed closer.”
Elandor’s eyes widened even more as he continued:
“There, standing with each foot on opposing sides of the river, was an enormous giant. He was standing next to a wooden bridge where a group of dwarves was just crossing the stream, his club held high to strike down on them. The dwarves were terrified and would probably have died if auntie Nicolette didn’t interfere.”
Whispering now, to add effects to the story Elandor leaned closer, regarding the stone, rather than Orion.
“She crept behind a bush so the giant couldn’t see her and took two stones from the ground. Banging them loudly against a fallen tree trunk she mimicked the sound of a horse in full gallop. The sound reverberated against the walls of the gorge and reached the giant. Shouting several things in low voices like “there he is” or “let’s get that ugly giant” and “for honor and country” she mislead the dumb brute to think that a group of men on horses was coming to kill him. Frightened, the giant forgot about the dwarves and sprinted away through the gorge.”
Elandor looked up at Orion and went on:
“You can imagine how thankful the dwarves were when they found out what she had done for them. They gave her a big diamond as a token of their appreciation. On one of her later adventures Nicolette was attacked by a demon that tried to burn her alive. She survived, but the fire had melted the diamond into a weird stone. This very stone! Isn’t that great!”
Awaiting the bird’s reaction Elandor looked at the stone, for he now believed as well that it had been a diamond once.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:56:26.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Paula
"Well, it is my last option to try and free the ghosts of the children.." Paula says to herself as she reaches into her pack, and withdraws a long iron rod with a bundle of cloth tied around the top. Paula carefully unravels the top, which shines with a gold tip for a moment, before the tip lights up into a brillant blaze of light.. Paula carefully directs the light down the stairs, and then glances back to Johan..
"If things become too strange, Master Johan, do not hesitate. Run. I shall be fine on my own." She says with a stern confidence in her voice, and then carefully descended below..
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:56:07.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Marie
She glances around the room and watches the rest filing out; she rises from the floor and brushes off her pants to the best of her tired ability. -I suppose this means I'm in...- She thinks and hides a tired smile as the satyr gets u and stumbles over to her.
"Us Girls have to stick together." She says in her drunken speech, slurred and a tab bit too loud. She walks over and grasps Marie's hand leading her out into the hall.
"That we do." Marie answers and waits while she gets their key then leans her to their room.
She satyr holds the key and attempts to unlock the door, a tricky task for one that had a little too much to drink with dinner.
"Here, let me." She said, still suppressing a smile, "The door knob isn’t moving in my vision." She unlocked the door and helped her companion to her bed, not sure how she was intending on sleeping. "Good night, rest well." With this she removed her boots and then gave up on changing and just passed out on her bed.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 14:55:51.
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