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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Derak
Derak stood towering over the dead bandit, his sword was dripping with blood as was his armor, which the blood flowed over the smooth metal like water over a river bed. They were mostly dead, a mere shadow of their formerselves. He watches as the remander of the bandits flee, his gaze also darts back and forther at his "teammates" action making sure that they allow them to flee. Derak belives in mercy when it is due. Many might look at Derak and see only a cold blooded killer, but he wasn't all a killer. Past this lies many morales and respect which some may see as a weakness but to Derak was a strong point. His big brown eyes slowl made way to the sun, which was fallen from the grasps of the daytime. The crimson glow reflected off of the moisture of his eyes. He dazed off for a momement at this point, but flinched back into reality. He kneeled down next to the dead corpse and wiped the blade clean with the bandits shirt. However this attempt failed because the shirt wasn't much cleaner and more dirt clung to the sword. So he made way to the edge of the river. He cleaned himself off their wistleing some old farm song to himself as he did this. He said to himself but really to the others in effort to spare the embrassement of cleanslyness "keep my equipment clean so it don't rust" he says drying it with his under clothing wool. He looks to the others in the group and says "yea kno'....we didn't have to dive right inta fighting, it woulda been more nessasary to try and negatotiate first. If every person whoever asked for a women to please a sensation and few gold to pay for food got wiped out like this half the world would be dead!" Derak says with a taste of sacarasim in his words.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:59:59.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Mahuo
Mahou let a slow breath out as she let the last arrow lose from the bowstring. Her plush lips curled in a satisfied grin as the arrow head pierce through flesh. With a toss of her head, ruffling the lengths of auburn hair around her shoulders, Mahou’s hoofed feet carried her close to the falling man. Her hazel eyes cast down as his sword fell and focused on the road until the mans limp body followed. All the while the same smirk graced her lips. Now, you shall own nothing Slinging her bow across her shoulders once more, a scowl passed Mahou’s fair face as she kneeled pushing the corpse over. Retrieving her arrows from the mans body Mahou stood up again and looked to the others of her “group”
“Let us not spend more time here then we have to.” Her eyes never once cast down to the dead body at her feet after rising instead they looked on the others. Tucking a few stray locks behind her shinny black horns she turned herself to face away from the work of burial at hand. Mahou would not take place in giving these men’s souls peace. She could only imagine what pains they had caused others by how they had intended to treat her. No she had it in mind that their souls should suffer for the wrongs they caused in life and that the gods would save them when they thought their suffering was over.
As the others carried the bodies to the cool lake, placing them down to their watery grave Mahou busied herself with finding Gemi who had hidden himself among the underbrush at the sight of the bandits. A few soft calls, a little chasing, a mad dash and a tackle brought Gemi back up into Mahou’s arms. Once securing Gemi and making sur e he would stay near Mahou would return to the group and await for them to finish with what they felt they must do.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:59:37.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
Elandor held his hoopak with two hands as this thug approached, looking at the man with a daring expression. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to tumble aside should the man attack. Perhaps he would even try to trip this bandit into the water. Adrenaline pumped through his vains, making his little legs shake in excitement. The situation changed just when Elandor wanted to jump asside and give the man a strong poke in the back. Instead of coming for the little thief the robber decided to choose for the certainty of life and ran off. Elandor could not believe what happened. He waded out of the reeds and jumped onto the bridge, where he could see the three bandits growing smaller and smaller in the already lowering sun. He shook his fist at the running men and made some very impolite gestures I won't describe here, yelling: "That will teach ya!"
After the burning energy in his body had cooled through the taunting Elandor dismounted the bridge again and made his way to the rest of the group. He helped as well as he could in burrying the bodies of the bandits, for he agreed with Vilyamar: these men had known joy and pain at some point of their lives and were to be treated with dignity. Besides, they had brought a pleasant diversion from the journey.
Yes, Elandor liked a good fight every once in a while, for it brought the thrill Elandor was constantly looking for. Many years ago the little kender had gotten dissatisfied with the life he was leading then. He grew more restless with every breath not taken in some quest or adventure. So he choose the life of the traveler, on a permanent search for challenge.
Elandor appreciated everything that helped him cool off this hunger for excitement, and honoured them silently, knowing that it brought peace to his brain for a short while.
So, calm again, he helped carrying the bodies to the side of the road. He didn't notice how an earring of one of the robbers fell into his pouches, nor did he mind the fact that one of the bandits borrowed him his shining ring, as it wasn't any good to him anymore. These men were actually quite nice! With a content feeling Elandor rested the short moment that the group paused, his mind already going ahead towards the adventures that would be awaiting beyond this bridge.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:59:21.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
*As the monk wraps a piece of cloth torn from a spare garment around his wound*
"We should move on," said the monk dryly, quite obviously stating the obvious. "But we must at least give these...men...a semblance of a proper burial. It is the least we can do to repay the little kindness they must have once held within themselves. But let us us only what little time we have to spare, a cairn is too long to search for the rocks and I doubt any of us actually brought something to dig with for such an occasion. The river looks promising to me."
At this suggestion, Vilyamar eyes each one of the group as they survey the deaths that they caused. Derak stood, making obvious motions to argue about the event and how it took place. He cuts him off with his own words, hoping to spare the group a fight amongst themselves, as he knows that they will need to keep up the trust between themselves, especially if this quest becomes really dangerous.
"Sir, there was little choice," Vilymar said. "There was only three other options. Betray what honor we have and run like cowards, not defending what we have earned and what rights we have." Vilymar nods toward the satyr. "Lay down our lives and have them search our corpses for their livelihood and...*with obvious contempt*...entertainment. Or we could have payed them what we had and given them an individual who has her own rights and should not be violated in any way. We did not start this, though the violence was our doing. It was, in my opinion, our best option."
The monk is not one to search corpses for goods, especially these. He helps the others with the burial-duty, taking the bodies wherever needed and doing whatever needed. He also mutters a semblance of a prayer to Erenall, to accept their undeserving souls with undiscrimination and without prejudice. Sighing and moving his hand to close the eyes of the man that he had killed, he mutters another prayer to Ethilnon and Sielne, to take care of the women and children depending on the men for support, to get them into a better circle of living.
When all is finished, he grabs a quick snack, checks the sun to see how much daylight they have left and estimates how much ground he thinks they can cover befor nightfall. Hopefully they can almost reach a good checkpoint at which to begin tomorrow. He urges them set off as quickly as possible to reach this point, a good rest is just what they all need.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:58:55.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Brigand Battle, Round II
The bandits had most certainly not known what they were getting themselves into when they crossed blades with such a group. Perhaps they had been unchecked until now, or perhaps their ego’s blinded the truth, but they had not foreseen such a battle.
Slipping his nunchuku back in his sash, the half elf stared down at the dust covered bandit who sagged, clutching his face and blubbering. Blood streamed between his fingertips and down his for arms. Without a flash of mercy, the monks forearm shot forth. With a sickening snap back of his head, the bandit flopped on his back, where he lay, unmoving, staring unseeingly at a fire tinged sky. Stepping back beside Damien, Vilyamar motioned towards two bandits who had seemingly made no movement from the beginning of battle. He also called to Mahuo, in an attempt to express the importance of taking out the bandit who had decided to creep after Elandor. Still now they stood, swords at their sides. Their gazes were fixed on the battle that raged between Teros and their leader.
He had seen the little worm. How he had snuck down along the river was beyond him, but nonetheless, the little bugger had done it. He had struck his comrade down, and he would pay. Cautiously, the bandit approached the reed forest. His sword arm tense; the setting sun blazing across the blade. Elandor remained crouching in the shadow of the stone bridge. A pebble was in his hand, and his gaze was fixed. An opening would show itself, and he would take it. Perhaps he hesitated too long, for the bandit spotting him, and with a shout, started for him. With a flash of gleaming sunlight, he raised his blade to cut through the first of the reeds that barred his path, but Elandor wizzed the pebble at him, striking his chest. Starting, the bandit rubbed his chest, before hacking a spit, and starting for the little kender. A malicious grin twisting his scraggly face.
Derak gazed down with pity at the man before him. He was nolonger slouching, but was writhing in his own pool of blood, clutching a gushing stub, and screaming horribly. Beside him lay the rest of his arm, twitching with its nerves last moments of life. Sighing, Derak plunged his blade down, deep into the chest of the man, who gave a final scream, which softly dyed into a wet gurgle. Lifting his head, the warrior shouted his disapproval of the actions of his party. Of course, noone responded..yet.
Damien’s gaze followed the pointing finger of the silver blonde monk. Two cowards remained on the outskirts of the “battle”. Stepping forward, he pointed his rapier at them, and bellowed his challenge. Their eyes flashed from the battle they had been watching, to the ghastly bard, back to the battle. Their eyes reflected unease, and they began backing up. Damiens hands went for his belt, a silver dagger flashed in the sunlight, and he hauled back to let it fly, when two, loud smacks came from his left, followed by a grunt, and a gasp. The two bandits turned and fled over the bridge. Cursing, the bard replaced his dagger, and turned to see what had happened.
Elandor cringed at his bad aim. The mans head was huge! How could he have missed? No matter, he would have to fight….or something. Backing up, the kenders foot slipped, dipping into the cold water. He had no choice, Elandor raised his hoopak, readying for battle. It never came, however. The man haulted suddenly, his head snapping back towards the battle. He wavered in uncertainty, and suddenly, two men could be seen, fleeing by him, and onto the bridge. Casting a final glare at the kender, the man turned, and fled after the other two, across the bridge, and through the grove of spruces on the opposite side. Elandor waded through the reeds, till he could see the others.
It had happened suddenly. This “bandit leader” was an exceptional fighter, despite his looks. Every attempt Teros made at tripping him was properly defended. A few times, in fact, Teros himself brushed with death, as a blade cut the air before his face, or a fist hammered his jaw. Deciding it was best, Teros backed off a bit, in an attempt to put some space between him and his opponent. Just as he did this, an arrow whizzed over his shoulder, smacking the leader in the stomach. The mans grungy sneer was washed over in shock. Another arrow struck him, this time in the chest. The man lowered his head, gazing at the protruding shafts that had startled, and broken him. With a clang, his sword fell to the road. He remained on his feet for a brief second more, like a tower buckling over a crumbled support, before dropping to his knees, and keeling to the side. Mahuo’s shots had been true. The other two bandits had witnessed the demise of their leader, along with everyone else. None of the bandits had expected such a horrible catastrophe. None would have been willing to trade in their lives for any amount of loot, or “booty”. Only, the battle had elapsed so quickly! None had even had the time to back off, after realizing their mistake; and now, most lie, dead, after an unfair deal. The two bandits eyes fell on the bard, who pointed a blood stained rapier at them. Their leader had fallen, as did their friends. They turned and fled. When the man near the reeds saw this, he came to the same conclusion, and he too, fled.
The battle was over. This main highway was littered with the bodies, and soaked with the blood of fallen thieves, for that was all they were. Above, the sky was stained with blood also, and a setting sun sank beneath the hills to their left.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:58:37.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Mahuo
Mahou heard Vilyamar's words and turned her bow swiftly to find the target he spoke of. Letting the string of the bow go, she smirked as the sattifying twang sound.
Mahou again reloaded her bow, pulling the arrowtightly against the sting of the bow she aimed her shot for the bandit leader once again waiting for another shot
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:58:15.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Derak
Derak watches as the bandit falls to the ground as a spray of red squirt from his stub. Even Derak hates seeing any living thing in pain so he does what he thinks is the nessasary thing.....put him out of his pain. He stabs the tip of the sword into his chest, twisting it around in his wound to insure the kill. He has a look of dispair for the bandit. As others are in battle he yells "this was not needed! It didn't have to be this way!" He yells drowning the noise of clashing swords in his deep voice. He doesn't attack anyone else, but he does stay ready. With his sword at hand he watches the others in battle slaugther the beggers. He shakes is head at the sight of the crew slaughter the poor men like sheep.
00C:Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, for the hoilday season has been somewhat hectic for me.....or is it that way for everyone?
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:58:00.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
The slender blade of the rapier lanced through the body of the brigand as Damien lunged forwards, driving the steel through his foes sternum and stealing his life from his body. As the bandit fell to the ground, Damien whipped his arm back, drawing forth his chosen weapon and watching as frost expanded from the swept-hilt up along the blade, sheathing it entirely in cold.
Turning around on the spot, he saw that most of the others were being dealt with, though there were two brigands who remained motionless, their swords at their sides. With a quick glance, he saw that there was one more heading towards the bridge for whatever reason, and the leader of the group dealing with the man wearing a turban.
I guess these two are mine. He thought with a wicked grin as he extended his right arm towards the two bandits standing idle, pointing his thin sword at them.
“Lack the confidence to join in a pitched battle?” He called to them, sauntering forwards a step and letting his black cloak trail behind him, creating a shadowy form of himself. His pale flesh and dark hair and clothing built a ghastly image about himself. Just the way he liked to have it. Stopping about fifteen feet away from the pair, he raised his arm again, controlling the sword with just his wrist and flicking the blade point down towards them. “I’ll take you both on at once. Come on!”
(OOC: Should the bandits accept his challenge, he will assume a fencing stance and try to deal with one at a time. If they wait more than a few moments, Damien will hurl one of his daggers at one of the two. If they choose to not even accept his offer, he will pitch all of his daggers at them before rushing them with the intent to slay them.)
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:57:38.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
As he is watching the fight from under the bridge, Elandor loads his hoopak again, ready to strike when nescessary. The opportunity to once again prove his worth is provided pretty soon, for one of the bandits has seen him, or at least suspects someone hiding under the bridge.
The little kender finds a second small rock and aims for a vital spot in the defense of this thug, all the while keeping as silent and conceiled as possible. He quickly scans the ways of this bandit: the way he walks, the way he moves his arms, the way he holds his weapon. When he has analyzed the movement of the man he notices a small opening in the suspicious and defensive stance of his opponent. The moment the opening provides itself again Elandor releases the pebble with a soft 'woosh'.
OOC: I guess Elandor's opponent is still flanked (correct me if that's wrong) so this would be a sneak attack. Otherwise it would be a normal one.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:57:17.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
Surprised at the durability and dodging skills of the bandit, Teros takes a brief moment to lay off the attack. He watches his opponets moves carefully, then dodges in for the attack.
Determind to punch through his defenses, he moves in low, cutting upward. Then drawing back he attempts to swipe him across his mid-section, putting everything he had into each of the blows in hopes that the fool would fall.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:56:58.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
"Mahou. A target has presented itself."
Vilyamar nodded towards the man on the bridge. He would present the most danger to our little friend, the kender. Vil hadn't seen him around, so he suspected the pebble had come from him. And since that bandit seemed to be slinking off into the bush by the bridge, he seemed to also know where the pebble came from.
Broken-nose bandit was off to the monk's right, staggering about clutching his face, so the monk hopped over and jabbed his palm into the man';s forehead, hopefully with enough force to snap his neck. If the man's head was already back (to stop the bleeding of the nose or something) Vil snapped his hand out, towards his throat, attempting to crush his windpipe. (Unarmed strike, Stunning "fist")
The monk immediately fell back beside the bard, who was still standing behind him. He motioned towards the bandits, hoping to convey the message that they should each take one. He awaited the bandits attack and countered it with a parrying block with the nunchuk's links followed by a side kick at the man's stomach/groin (anything to make him double over). Then he whipped the nunchuk up and over to have it come smashing down atop the man's head.
If the bandit is knocked unconcious or killed: Vilyamar will take a quick moment to catch his breath and then move on to help the bard.
If not: Vilyamar will await the next round by scanning the area for attackers and preparing for the counter attack from the bandit.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:56:41.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Brigand Battle
How ironic it was, that on such a peaceful day, the sun would set in blood. Could it be helped? Perhaps...If the company had no honor. Or perhaps the troup of ruffians were after more than blood and Mahuo. Perhaps a fight was inevitable. No matter the possible path, only one could be taken, and swords would clash.
The remarks of the apparant 'leader', and the uproar of laughter he recieved from his hardies, both astonished, and enraged the newly acqainted group of travelers. First Mahuo, perhaps surprising others with her self control, retorted with he own two sense about the freedom of Inenhalla's lands. This got a wave of chuckles from the men, and the leader, cocking his head and spitting , replied. "p'haps tis free ta tromp over Inhallis lands. But this har bridge aint built be inhalla. IS IT!" This brought about a speech from Teros, about how they were scum that should be dealt with. The leaders eyes flashed at this, and several men shifted, flexing their sword hands, and tilting there weapons in the dying sunlight. The leader opened his grubby mouth to speak, but hesitated, when the bard in black stepped forward. All eyes went to Damien as he swaggered his way towards the end of the row of bandits. With pretty words and a display of coins, he had attracted all attention, and some of his own companions had their suspicions. But, perhaps as surprising as his act, was his true motive! In a flash, he hurled the coins at the bandit. They bounced off, dancing in the sunlight like golden sparks, and landed, scattered in the grass. This set off an explosion of events. In an instant, everyone was caught up in a battle, whether they wanted to be or not.
The bandit at the end of the row had not suspected Damiens antics, and was caught off gaurd, but not enough. As Damien settled into position and gave a swift swipe at the mans throat, he swung his own sword up wildly, parrying the bards attack. It was allright. Damien had expected at least SOME sort of defense, and so, was prepared for the parry. As the man deflected his blow, he swung his own sword to high, exposing his entire body. The bard was fast, and knew an opportunity when he saw one. Lunging forward, he stabbed hard and true. The blade's bite was deep. It had pierced through his lower chest, stabbing through cloth, skin, bone, and flesh. The mans eyes widened in a blend of pain and horror, and with a gasp, he collapsed to the dusty road, where he lay, writhing. Taking this oppurtunity, the bard wispered the language of magic, and his blade was glazed over in ice.
As chaos ensued, Mahuo took her opportunity. The leader was standing where he had been, flailing his sword about, and cursing at his men. He stopped when an arrow wizzed over his head, and looked at Mahuo.(bad roll) Not hesitating, she loaded and fired another. The arrow struck him in the shoulder, and he staggered back a step, before glancing down and pulling it out. WIth a grundgy sneer, he showed her the arrow, snapped it, and started for her. He apparently wore leather armer beneath his tunic. He was lucky that time.
The leaders aproach of the satyr was interupted, however, as the darkskinned man in the turban charged, kicking hard at his feet, trying to trip him. The leader had hopped back, just in time, and was able to keep his balance as the desert man tried to trip him again. Angrily, the man swung a fist at Teros. It glanced off his shoulder, barely causing a flinch. Perhaps the punch had been ment to send him off his gaurd, to no avail. For immedietly following the punch, was a swift swipe of his gleaming sword. Teros was able to deflect it, and get in stance.
Vilyamar had expected a battle, and as was proper, had prepaired. Seeing the skirmish break out, he drew his nunchuku, spinning the flail over his shoulder, and about his waist for a moment, while activating the runes with a magic tongue. A soft glow emminated from the nunchuk, and a gleam shone in his blue eyes. Charging forth, he took to the direction of Damien. The bard had fell and aponent, and had another aproaching, when the half elf appeared. Striking like lightning, he brought the flail up into the mans jaw. Sparks danced, and a currents seemed to sweep accross his face for a brief moment. The man staggered back in pain and surprise. Following, seemingly in one fluid motion, the half elf ducked the swing of another, nearby bandit, and rose with his own strike across the face. The same magicaly effect overtook this man also. However, unlike the first, this bandit dropped his sword with a clang, and sunk to his knees, grasping his face and blubbering. The first came back at the monk, swiping hard, but catching only a nick of the forarm of the dodging half elf. The wound stung, but was far from serius. Infact it did no more than startle Vilyamar. Perhaps the man would have kept up his assault, if he hadnt dropped face first in the road, a pebble sunk in the back of his greasy head. Vilyamar caught only a glance of a small figure dropping off the wall of the bridge, back into the shadows and the reeds.
As all this took place, the big man called Derak had stood in the back, shaking his head. It hadn't had to be this way, they only wanted money...and some fun. Surely they didnt need to die! At the least, he felt his 'partners' should have tried just a little harder to negotiate. He had just decided he wouldnt raise his sword unless need be, when a glanced a bandit charging him. Derak had barely enough time to draw his sword and deflect the first swing. "Ah well" He thaught. "Guess this is a 'need be' time" With that, he returned a swing of his own. His great sword gleamed like fire in the setting sun, and cut through flesh as easy as if it WERE ablaze. The mans sword, and arm dropped to the ground. Crimson spray washed over the big man from a stub, ending over the mans right elbow. The bandit howled in agony, and dropped to his knees, where he knelt in a growing pool of his own blood, doubled over grasping what was left of an arm.
(OOC Sorry, I know this post is not nearly well written enough. I had very little time to get one in, and I have a headache...so deal with it, I promise, next post will be better.
As it is, Damien stands on the righthand outskirts. The man he had attacked lays before him, writhing and gasping. Between Damien and any other bandits is Vilyamar. Vilyamar is actually surrounded by three, unfighting bandits. To the left is Damiens man, to the right is the man who slouches, holding his bleeding nose, and back, between Vil and the river, is the man who attacked him...he is dead, with a stone imbedded in the back of the head. About 10 feet further to Vilyamars right is the leader, who, at the moment is in combat with Teros. About 15 feet from Teros and the leader stands Mahuo, and about ten feet to her left stands Derak over the screaming man without an arm. 3 bandits did not engage in battle, two of which stand far to the left, watching with their swords at their sides. The other is cautiously making his way towards the bridge...He saw the pebble incident.
1 bandit dead
1 bandit dying
1 bandit disarmed...hehe (will be dying very soon without aid)
1 bandit graspin nose
1 leader fighting Teros
1 bandit heading towards bridge
2 bandits on sidelines...swords at sides.
Vilyamar took 2...hehe
As i said...sorry for such a bad post, next will be better. Promise.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:56:24.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
If Elandor is not seen by the thugs he moves further towards the bridge and climbs on it, positioning the thugs between him and the party, thus flanking them. He loads his hoopak and aims, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. When he is sure he has found an unguarded spot he shoots a sharp rock he found near the river at the leader of the bandits (att 1d20+15, dmg 1d4+3 +4d6 sneak att).
He uses the rest of his action to dive next to the bridge, almost splashing in the river, then merging with its shadows (hide +21) just before the thugs can see what attacked them from behind. While in this hiding place he makes sure to watch the spectacle, ready to shoot again if nescessary.
(OOC: this is very short, I know, but awaiting Val's reaction I wanted made sure what Elandor's action would be )
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:55:57.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
OOCidn't know if you were ok with me rolling attack rolls, so I rolled. If they aren't ok, then go ahead and ignore the rolls.
Seeing the bard making his move. Teros says something in his native tongue under his breath. The sword turns a dark deep read. Then, looking up at the leader, he darts forward onestep (5 foot step forward) and begins his assualt. Arrows move near him, going to the same target as himslef, but it seems to not affect his mental focus. His body seems to move with his opponets weapon as if ready to dodge it (dodge)
His first blow seems to be a little off, as he looses his footing a bit, but pure skill results in a good comeback (7+13=20 damage if hit: 16, 22 on my strenght, free attack is 8+13=21)
He then makes another slash down, ending his assualt (11+3=14 damage if hit 14 no knockdown cause he is already down or this attack was a miss.)
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:55:42.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Mahuo
Mahou watched closely as Damien made his move. Her eyebrow raising as Damien pulled the coins from his pocket, she was almost disgusted but the feeling didn’t have time to manifest. Damien’s words hit Mahou’s ears first and she smiled.
Mahou’s hand darted up quickly as her eyes set again to the leader of the bandit’s. In a flash one finely crafted arrow was drawn from its quiver and placed snuggly against the string of her raised composition long bow. Both hazel eyes stayed open as she aimed her shot at the leader.
The subtle moves of aiming and even the swiftness with how loaded her weapon, and the last seconds before her arrow was set free, seemed to go by far to quickly. The group was but a blur in her side vision as she watched her arrow. Mahou would keep her eyes on her target and her arrow, as she drew and loaded another arrow from her quiver and took aim again on the bandit leader.
(val lemme know if you want me to update the table, and when.. and how and all that.. or if you can figgure it out yourself. and just so you don't ask, no Mahou will not move unless she has to)
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:55:23.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
(this is just like the last part of Tek's post but I felt like adding it down here since it will be noticed better)
Vilyamar drew his nunchaku, gave it a quick whirl about his shoulders, and started to sing. The singing was short, only a few words in his tenor voice, yet they produced the visualization of a shot of lightning and fiery burst of flame in the minds of those who heard the words. The runes upon his nunchaku glowed a fierce blue on one side and the other side, which had no runes showing, suddenly had the patterns of flaming, runes, that were similar yet not the same, on it, too.
He took a step forward (5 feet) and moved in between the two bandits on the end, and struck at the nearest bandit. The blue glowing funes flared red and the flaming runes glowed brighter as the weapon was brought to bear with his enemy. As the nunchaku came down on his right, he turned his body a kicked hard to his left at the other bandit. As the bandit on his right recovers from the strike (if he recovers), Vilyamar swings around his backside and deals another blow to his back. (3 feet)
He is wearing no armour so his bonus speed should come into play.
This should be the three attacks I get. I am assuming the bandit recovers after being hit with the nunchaku and attempts to rush the monk. A duck may be attempted if the bandit has his arms out.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:55:04.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
Rolling over to the side, Damien swung his legs over the edge of the bed in his rented room and placed his feet on the cold floor. He shuddered slightly from the sudden chill, but bore on through it and sought his grey wool stockings, which he pulled on eagerly. His hair was disarrayed and strewn about his handsome face, and he brushed it away, snatching up his tunic and breeches and pulling them on. His black boots were propped against the edge of his bed, and he slipped his feet into them, lacing them up quickly and tightly. The bard donned his cloak, buckled on his leather breastplate, and belted on his rapier, stood, and stretched his arms. “A dreamless sleep…” He mumbled, and walked towards the door to his room. His black silk backpack was resting against the wall, and the lute he found was sitting next to it. He slipped the pack over his shoulders, but eyed the lute momentarily. “No need.” He said, and made his way to the common room.
Eating a quick and silent breakfast, Damien used the time to think to himself of the group he had now been accepted into. A few humans, a kender, a satyr, and something that looks to be a half-elf. And of course, me. He thought as he took a few bites of the eggs he had set before him at the table. Forcing himself to eat something, though he was not very hungry, Damien was rather glad to get up and leave the inn when the others had prepared themselves to do so.
The village was commonplace for the usual things one would see and hear in such a place. Blacksmiths hammer banging down on steel and iron. Pack mules led by farmers. Carts hauled by oxen and draft horses. Perfectly common for a village, and the bard was relieved to be away from so many people the moment they set foot outside of the village. Though he did not much care for the village itself, the nature of the surrounding lands amazed him and captivated him with its majestic beauty. “Primal order.” He said quietly as the trouped across the land. The bard was silent for nearly the entire trek, all up till the point where the reached the bridge.
They were greeted by a grungy looking man stood on the bridge, standing in such a way as to prevent any from crossing over. Though his breeches were soiled and terribly worn, Damien recognized the shirt as one that would belong to a noble of some sort. The brigand demanded a toll from the group, and several others appeared from underneath the bridge, bearing swords. Damien counted quickly, and added up to eight men on their side. He had dealt with brigands in the past, and another group of them was little for him to worry about. The one thing that truly bothered him was the way the leader requested that they hand over Mahou in addition to a toll that they declared. This raised the bard’s eyebrow in astonishment.
Sickening, it truly is. Amazing they don’t just capture an innocent woman trying to cross this bridge. Instead, they try to take the satyr for their own pleasure? Damien felt sickened by this, and quickly worked a plan over in his head.
He made no signs of drawing his rapier, and instead, walked forwards until he got right up to the brigand furthest to the side. He had no desire to let them double-team him, though he was almost certain he could defeat them. Reaching into his cloak pocket, he withdrew a handful of silvers, extending his arm and holding his palm face-up so that they could see the coins. “We will pay your toll,” He said slowly, sliding his right hand towards his hip. When he felt the hilt underneath his cloak, he closed his fist and hurled the coins into the face of the nearest bandit. “with your damnable blood!” He snarled, and drew out his rapier with a hiss, whipping the thin blade around in a slash at the man facing him, trying to cut across his throat. Leaping backwards, he assumed a fencing stance and bounced on his feet, keeping a light stance. His left arm rose on his other side, creating a very balanced form. “Highway-robbing self-important swine. See how well you can fare!” With a long stride, he lunged at the bandit, rapier extended before him as he spoke a word under his breath. “Il’analya.” And the slender blade of his rapier began to change color and texture, assuming a frosted appearance starting from the swept-hilt, and rising to the tip of the blade. Damien could feel the chill, and knew that this bandit soon would as well.
(OOC: Damien is using his Fencing Stance to gain an AC bonus of +2. He will try to isolate the bandit he attacked, fighting him in a duel rather than in an all-out battle along with the others. Should Damien slay this one, he will cast a sleep spell aimed at the remaining bandits, hoping to help clean up the encounter as fast as possible.)
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:54:44.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Derak
Derak's eye's slowly swing open into the day. He leans up and throws a sharp glance to his equipment over in the corner. He throws the blanket from off top of him and walks over to his stuff. He equips himself full taking about 10min. He had tooken the old man's words into consideration and decided amoungst himself that he would go....for his was in search of food and money which he was running short on. He made his way out of the room and down the hall. He breaks the silence of the new day as he stomps down the woden hallway. He sees the others on their way also, he doesn't bother consulting with the others on his descion, for his presence there alone answers the question. On way into the newly born day he doesn't associate too much with the others. For they are not exactly "his type", so fashinable and clean cut for someone who's duty can sometimes get bloody. Keeping to himself they come across a bridge, a group of men come from all corners of the bridge like ants to an ant hill. They brought a smile to Deraks face which he soon forcefully faded away for the others sake. They looked like an ok bunch of guys, they reminded him alot of the kinds of people he would work with. It was common to come across people like this, judgeing on their apperence it was their last chance of survival, to calim a bridge theris in effort to recieve money. It was a cheap trick but sometimes nessasary. He thought that his group was over reacting just a tad, but also their demand for the female was bit too drastic. He would have paid the people if it was him and if they contiuned to hassle Derak he would then go into forceful measure, but it wasn't his call now. He was part of a whole, and he had to support them. Even though Derak loved fighting he knew when it was needed to use his words instaed of his sword. If Derak was alone he probably would have striked up a friendly conversation with them just because that was the way he was. They just were some raggity men wanting some money to get food but he did have to agree with the others that demanding possession of the lady/goat was wrong. Derak did nothing but satnd in back of the group with his hand more resting on his hip.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:53:13.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Vilyamar
The old man explained much yet very little to the group who had almost all volunteered their name to be put upon the list of adventurers on this trek. All but the sloopy man had joined at this time and they were all tired, but they all stayed alert enough to hear Hobbles describe the quest.
With very little answered the innkeeper led them all to their respective rooms, Hobbles going into one of his own, and soon the doors were shut, privatcy engaged. Vilyamar closed the door and did not bother taking off anything but his nunchaku which he laid beside his head in his hand. Thankful for a real pillow this night, the monk was soon dead to the world and in deep sleep.
Morning came all too soon for the monk, as he was awakened by fresh sunlight streaming in through a window. He pushed himself up, got off the bed, rubbed his eyes and stretched. Then, while patting down the wrinkles in his clothing, he turned suddenly startled by the innkeeper who was bringing some notification of breakfast.
"Whoa, there young fella," The innkeep cautioned holding out his hands when Vil turned suddenly and went instinctivly into fighting stance. "Tis only I, and have only come to warn ya to breakfast, afore its all gone."
"Sorry,...Truly I am sorry, sir, wasn't expecting you at all," Muttered the monk as he picked up his nunchaku and moved beyond the innkeep and out to the common room.
In the common room, Vil found most of the travellers there all ready and was startled that he had actually slept so much later. He sat down and ate with few words except simple greetings to those who acknowledged him. He noticed that Hobbles was not there, but payed it little attention. He understood the human aging as well as any and knew that they required more rest as they grew older.
They all finished up, said their thanks and paid the innkeeper and left the inn. Soon they had left the town behind altogether and were well on their way to the forest of Valinon. They walked on and on, stopping once for lunch beneath some ancient oaks. Peace held out until late afternoon.
The group had been walking and were somewhat weary but could still go on for quite a ways. Unfortunately when they encountered a stream that they were to cross, it turned out that bandits were holding the bridge. The uncouth thugs made their demands very clear. There were only eight of them and who knows how intelligent they really were. Though all were armed, it seemed to the monk that they could take this band.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the kender moving subtley trying to get his weapons into position for an attack. He was also moving off into the shadows where the monk at least hoped that the bandits would be too involved with them to notice the kender on his way around to their backside.
The satyr was becoming very angry with the thugs, their intentions of what they were going to do with her obvious to everyone. She said some things that the monk did not pay much attention to, as did Teros who drew his sword and moved just in front of her. Seeing a fight as inevitable, Vil drew his nunchaku and spoke the monosyllable command rune, as he said it the runes flared to life, red and blue light glowing from them. Spinning it once or twice in his hands to once again get the feel for the weapon, he tensed his leg muscles, preparing to spring off to the side once the battle began.
(I'm assuming he's on the right hand side of Mahou and Teros is standing just in front of her and to her left.) He was planning on taking out the bandit closest to him on the right hand side and then get the next one beside him. Hopefully the others four attack the other side and the kender can get the one right beside the leader on Vil's half. Thats how I see the battle. Mahou can take the leader
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:52:35.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
Startled by the knock on his door Elandor lazily opened one heavy eyelid and aimed a dirty look at the door. He didn't like to be rudely awakened, and he always considered being awakened without his permission to be rude. So, when the footsteps and knocks on other doors faded he turned around in his warm sheets and got ready to fall asleep again.
Unfortunately the small dose of consciousness was enough to get the kender's senses started. And once a kender's senses have been activated they refuse to stop working just like that. The sound of the other people getting up entered Elandor's ears like an unwelcome insect, bugging him, daring him to check out who they were. The soft dashing of the water inside the trough that was brought in was calling him, inviting him to splash his head into the cold liquid. A ray of light shone on his closed eyelids, prodding the membrane, telling him to share the beautiful environment with it. The smell of the wooden floor krept up his nose and sent sensations through his brain, "walk me... feel me!" it stated.
Elandor grabbed the pillow with two hands and smashed it over his head to stop the sensations, but seconds later he already found that his hands were no longer grasping the pillow but reaching for his boots. One minute later he stood in the hallway, heading for the commonroom to share a breakfast with the rest of the visitors.
His pouches stuffed with fruit and what had been left of the bread he had been given Elandor strolled along with the group, humming to himself, enjoying the environment. Several times he would be enjoying the environment too much and lost contact with the group while trying to dive into a rabbit-hole or chasing Gemi, Mahou's companion. But the little kender always found his way back to the rest of the party before they would take an unexpected turn. So when the group arrived at the river Elandor ran ahead towards the water, a small distance away from the bridge. He kneeled by the water and brushed his hand through the soft running stream. It was cold and clear, a refreshment after the long walk and the peaceful glittering of the sun's reflection calmed the kender's wild heart a little. He sat there enjoying the feeling for a while untill he heard a voice.
The voice belonged to a man with a very interesting choice of clothing. He stated that they should give all their belongings to him, and Mahou along with them. Elandor remembered the nice chat he'd had with the Satyr woman and was far from willing to lose her as a member of the party. The kender splattered some water into his face to think clearly. He heard the others state that Mahou was not to be treated as some sort of property and he felt a strong urge to go over to them and add his agreement, plus make a comment about the way this wicked man was dressed.
Instead of following his instincts this time a thought crept up Elandor's mind. It came slowly up his spine and grew stronger towards his core, where it evolved into detail.
Elandor used his knowledge of shadows and detail to hide as well as possible, making his way towards the bridge taking cover behind larger rocks and moving slowly and silently. He drew his hoopak steadily as he crawled closer, all the while scanning the environment for a way to sneak behind this man and his fellow brutes, to deal some kind of surprise attack when it would come to a fight.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:52:17.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Teros
Teros moved over slowly in the bed. His body at first was tired and felt weak, but after a few moments of taking in the sun comming in from the window, he felt much better. "Thank you for your warm blessing." he says quickly to the goddess. After stretching for a while he moved up to his leather armor, placing it on himself along with his light clothing. His turban followed shortly along with all his equipment. Then, after giving the room a quick glance over he nodded to himself and left the room.
The food was a large lifter for energy. Having light conversation with the others and learning a few minor things about them was also a nice little minor thing.
It was finally time to get a move on. The town was awakening, filling with life. Making light coversation with others was once again insuing, but mostly Teros just absorbed the sun, taking it in. It wasn't half as powerful as it was in his homeland, but if one stood in a good position, you could get a nice feel for it.
Finally a bridge and a small river where in sight. A strange man with bad dressed was on the bridge, already sensing trouble, he lightly put a hand on his sword.
“I think ye carry money, and if not, tis aight. Give us what ye got, and the goat girl." Before he could do anything, Mahou steped in. She drew her bow and spoke to the disgusting men.“Bite your tongue human, I have standards for what I’ll mate with.” She said, her eyes looking over the bandits once more, her face still twisted in disgust.
“No one owns the river, and no one owns the forest, and no one shall own me. For that much I will not pay to pass over what Inenhalla has given us all freely.”
With this she looked around at the rest of the group. Teros gave a nod to her. Then drawing his sword he steped up in front of her, although a little over so that an arrow could easily hit them if it was needed.
"You are fools if you believe that we would let you run off with one of our companions. You are the type of filth that needs to be destroyed from the world!" His gaze showed no emotion, and his face showed the same. His sword was pointed to the ground, the tip of it touching.
Looking slightly over his shoulder he spoke softly to those behind him. "We can't allow this filth carry on like this! We need to make sure that they don't hurt other people in the future!" His voice was strong and his face remained emotionless.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:51:59.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Mahuo
Mahou rolled over in her bed; the sound of knocking hadn’t so much awaken her, as did the soft nudges Gemi gave to her shoulders in alert that someone was coming close to her door. Mahou’s soft brown eyes fluttered open a smile crossing her lips as Gemi grunted and nuzzled her shoulder. Pulling herself off the soft feather bed Mahou pulls her shirt over her head and opening the door for a morning greeting. Biding her good mornings to the servant she closed the door and gathered her things.
Mahou, pulled the chain shirt from her bag, and replaced her simple peasants shirt with the light armor. After a brief struggle with Gemi to place him back in his bag, Mahou gathered her other gear and head down stairs. Being the first down the steps Mahou wasted no time taking a seat and enjoying the meal provided for her. The foods of this town where not to much unlike that which Mahou would have picked for herself in the wild, but they where completely enjoyed none the less. As the others began to file down and fill their bellies with the assortment of foods provided for a hearty breakfast, Mahou offered a warm morning and questioned them as to if they slept well.
Introductions where made and brief chitchat was passed as the meal progressed. After all ate their share, Mahou was glade to set of out of the civilized world of man and back into Inenhalla’s wonderful creation. Mahou paused as soon as they had passed a good distance from the town and kneeled down pouring Gemi out from her bag.
“Stick close Gemi” She said in a light voice giving Gemi a nudge as he hesitated looking around at all the strange folk Mahou traveled with. Mahou glanced around at everyone before her hazel eyes landed back on her animal friend. “Don’t be such a worry wart, their good men... They’ll be traveling with us a bit.” Mahou had a habit of speaking to Gemi as if he was a real person, she held no believe that an animal was just an animal, and she being more humanlike where superior to that simple mind of a beast. Gemi offered a soft grunt of distaste, which Mahou merely shook her head to and stood back up.
The morning moved on, and Mahou took in every moment of the sunlight. She really couldn’t understand why so many human’s liked to hide themselves away in little boxes all day long. The sun was warm and refreshing giving Mahou a since of life. Even Gemi seemed to scurry along brightly, keeping his clear of the others of course, his walking path taking him directly under Mahou’s hoofed feet on more occasions then one, which several times caused her to almost trip over the tinny beast.
The sound of the river came wafting down the road and Mahou’s almond eyes glanced up to see the bridge before them and the gruffly looking man who guarded the bridges mouth. Mahou slowed in her steps putting herself behind several of her companions. She wasn’t much of a fighter, and this man did not look to be that good of a man. Gemi hissed and grunted scurrying off into the thick of brush around the edge of the road, Mahou’s eyes glanced up to see what had caused the creature to start in such a way. Her eyes widened as the sight of seven other men joined the “guard” in front of the bridge.
“I think ye carry money, and if not, tis aight. Give us what ye got, and the goat girl.” The man said his eyes scanning over Mahou’s form. Mahou felt the eyes of the other men upon her and felt slightly disgusted at their gawking. Mahou shrugged her shoulder a move that send her long locks of auburn hair forward and let her Bow slide down her arm and into her hand. She didn’t how ever load it, merely held it at her side. The bow string brushed lightly acros the wirey fur that graced her hips and most of her leg. Tossing her head back to free her face of hair Mahou took another step back away from the group of bandits.
“Bite your tongue human, I have standards for what I’ll mate with.” She said, her eyes looking over the bandits once more, her face still twisted in disgust. “No one owns the river, and no one owns the forest, and no one shall own me. For that much I will not pay to pass over what Inenhalla has given us all freely.”
Mahou said with great confidence. Her eyes would look around at her own group and wait to see their response to all this. She held her head high letting the sunlight catch the curves of her onyx colored horns. Mahou watched everyone around her her hooves dug into the dirt road under her as readied herself to quickly draw an arrow from the quiver at her back and defend herself if need be.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:51:37.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Day 1
August 8
Aldoris Countryside
Western Wold
Having finished speaking, the old man stood, leaning heavily on the twisted, wooden staff, eyeing each member closely. A brief silence set in as his words were digested. He did not shift, or show any signs of impatience. He simply stood, one hand grasping the staff with fingers, twisted like tree roots. The other gently stroking his long beard. None, not even Damien or Mahuo could recall tales of Inenhalla planting a tree within the Valinon forest. However, Damien was able to plunder dusty memories of stories about the Valinon forest. He could vaguely recall that it was a deep forest, and that deep within it grew the legendary Velias, or Everreach trees. These trees were told to make up the mythical elven forests to the far northeast, and rumor had it their trunks supported cities, and their boughs formed highways. Whether or not the tales were true, or if he even had the story that they grew in the Valinon forest correct, he was not sure.
Within the next minute or so, almost everyone had volunteered, for one reason or another. The old man had stood, nodding the whole time as if he had expected such replies. After the services were offered, the old man leaned forward, peering almost cautiously into the kenders bag, before patting him on the head, and saying “If you are also a collector, this is a chance you certainly do not want to miss.” Winking, he made his way to a table and sat in a chair. The big man remained near the door.
Glancing at Teros, who, having wrapped his turban, and slung on his gear, stood in the middle of the inn, Hobbles smiled, and gestured for him to sit. “There is no rush, lad. You deserve at least a nights rest before setting out. I trust you’ve encountered enough difficulties on your days journey.” He paused, allowing the desert man to take a seat, before continuing in that rich, deep voice of his. “I take it you all want to know the details. Who wouldn’t? I shall give them to you. First of all, I can assure you, it will be well worth your time.” As he said this, his deep blue eyes shot at Damien from beneath tufts of snowy eyebrows. Then, glancing at the chunky man who had followed him in (Derak) he said “You havent volunteered, friend. Don’t fret, there is no blame to you, though it woes me to think of the amazing feast you will receive. All in your name.” At this, the mans greasy eyebrow lifted, and even the others shifted. Hobbles chuckled, and leaned forward, tapping his staff on the polished wood floor. “Don’t look surprised! I told you it would be worth your time. In fact, you cannot grasp how much your time is worth! Now, let me get on with the details, before I grow drowsy. If that happens you sha’nt get half of a straight story from me! Now, as I was saying. You are to go to the Valinon forest, which is only a couple days journey north of here, and pluck a leaf from the bough of Inenhalla’s Tree. ‘How,’ you ask ‘Are we to know which tree it is? A forest is filled with unique trees!’ To that I agree, but you must trust me, you will know this tree. You WILL. Another question you might have is ‘Well, if this forest is so near, why havent others sought out this tree?’ That answer is simple. Very few know about it, and fewer travel beneath those boughs. NO the forest is not cursed. You need not worry about that. ‘How,’ You ask, ‘are we to find one tree in such a vast forest?’ The answer, is have faith.” The old man chuckled again, and took a sip of an ale that had been set before him. He looked up again with eyes as bright as the stars. “Now I had mentioned something about “questions” that needed answering. Did I not? Im afraid I cannot share those questions with you-yet. In due time, I will have my answers, and they shall be shared with you, along with my questions! Don’t worry about that, however, until your quest is complete. Now, I am growing weary, and I wish for sleep, so I will conclude this for you, as I’m sure you are just as tired. You must set out first thing tomorrow. There is a village road that runs north. Follow it, and it will eventually take you to the heavy boughs of Valinon. The road leads a ways into the forest, but eventually dies out. Once there, you may do as you wish. Now, I must be to bed.” He grunted, pushing himself up, and leaning back on his staff. Turning to Derak, he adds “You have the night to sleep on your decision. Come tomorrow you shall be awakened, and from there you can decide what to do.”
With that, he hobbled back to the door, where he exchanged quiet words with the big man for a moment, before nodding and turning to the others. “I am sorry for my rudeness. I should have introduced him earlier. This is Borvyne. He is a friend of mine from the far north. He will not be staying tonight, as he has urgent business of his own that needs tending.” The big mans ice pale eyes flashed across the others, before he gave a formal bow, and, with a swing of the door, left into the night.
(OOC: Sorry, the rest will be somewhat rushed, because its late and I’m tired, but this must be in.)
The others, even those who had not ordered rooms, where escorted down a candle lit hallway to individual rooms. Each was cozy, consisting of two beds, a cheerfully glowing fireplace, a polished table, and a lamp. Hobbles could be seen entering a prepared room of his own, before doors were shut, and privacy endowed.
Not one of the adventurers wasted time before sleeping. Each was too tired from the days events, to even care, for that matter, and within minutes, each had drifted softly into a world of peace and dreams.
Though the golden rays of the sun poured brilliantly through the windows, gleaming on the polished wooden mantelpiece, and into the eyes of the recently awakened adventurers, it seemed the night had been too short. Any dreams one had could not be remembered, and infact, it felt they had only just set their heads to the pillow when, on the wooded doors to their rooms, there came a knocking, and the tired voice of the innkeeper, urging an early rise. As the doors were unlocked, Garm and Barlibake brought in troughs of water, for morning refreshing, and each was able to wash his/her face and hair, before heading to the common room, where they were pleased to see fresh bread, fruit, and eggs awaited them. How they hadn’t already smelled the aroma, they did not know.
Hobbles was nowhere to be seen, and John replied to inquiries by saying that Hobbles had already asked that he not be woke up, as he was old, and old men needed their rest. This at least was enough to settle any suspicions. Amongst the adventurers sat Derak, who declared he was in need of some recognition and a good feast. The adventurers finished their meal, thanked and paid the innkeeper, and stepped out of the inn.
The day was warm and pleasant. The sun shone brightly in the clean, azure sky, and a soft breeze swept across their faces. Already the streets where filling with merchants and farmers. Donkeys, Oxen and horses lugged carts or riders down the streets. Booths were being set up, and common folk loitered on the corners. The air was filled with the voices of men, women, children, hoof claps, and hammer tangs. Aldoris was awake. Quickly, the adventurers introduced themselves to those they had not done so already with, before setting off.
It didn’t take long before they had left the village behind, and found themselves on a wide, stone roadway, crossing farm dotted fields. The land rolled about them in green hills, lined with deep groves of swaying trees. Birds chirped in the weeds and branches, and butterflies danced and fluttered, while a soft breeze drifted across the grass in gentle, green waves. In the distance, the dark green haze of forests stretched.
The landscape didn’t change much, as they kept to the road. At around noon they had halted for lunch beneath the boughs of a grove of tall, wise looking oaks before continuing. They had kept this pace until late afternoon.
They had come to a river. Its singing water flowed like golden fire beneath the low hanging sun to their left. Before them, casting its long shadow across the reeds, was an arching, stone bridge. Standing, hands on his hips before the bridge, was a man. A rather dirty, grungy looking man with an untrimmed beard, and long, greasy black hair. His pants were tight, soiled and torn, but his shirt, which was oversized, was a brilliant red silk, tunic, laced in gold. He was not a big man, standing at average height and build, and he smiled, a dirty, toothless smile, but it was obvious he was not friendly.
“Na who we got her?” He mused loudly, clicking his tongue, in a sarcastic gawk. “Strange group in need of crossing ar her bridge! Ye her that boyz?” As he said this, 7 others of similar grunge approached from under the bridge, bearing swords that burned like orange fire in the setting sun. A big, bald man tossed a sword to the obvious leader who had blocked their path. Catching and whirling it in an arch of fire, the leader smiled his ugly smile at the group again. “Ye see, gurlies. We own this her bridge, and we only accep’ certain tolls fer crossing.” Looking the group over a minute, he sneared, and his eyes fell on the satyr. With a soft chuckle, he continued “I think ye carry money, and if not, tis aight. Give us what ye got, and the goat girl.” He chuckled again and added “It’s a lonely life, and I settled fer both goat, an’ girl, but never both in one.” This got a riot of laughter from the others. The leader pointed his sword at Mahuo and said, “Come on, gurly goat. Yull like what we gots fer ya.”
(OOC I have you in no marching order, your in a cluster. There are 8 men total. The “leader” is in the middle, the others stand side by side behind him, swords brandished. Now...without furthur adue.....I go to sleep....zzzzzz)
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:51:16.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Damien
Completely ignoring the looks and reactions of the people in the common room who listened to his haunting song, Damien took a seat away from the others, preferring to be on his own rather than in the crowd. The applause he got was meaningless to him, but the coins he had received were welcome, despite the fact he gave neither thanks nor a look in appreciation to those who gave them to him. However, the pretty barmaid who stepped up to him, complimenting his voice, turned his gaze up to her.
He tried to keep his face expressionless, but took in her appearance with carefully guided eyes. Quite a looker. He thought as he returned his gaze forwards, for the first time realizing the kender who had stepped up and requested another song. “Maybe later…” Damien muttered quietly, and shut his eyes momentarily, as though trying to remember something. “My name is Damien LeBlaque, if you must know it.”
With a few rapid movements of his slender arm underneath his black shirt and cloak, Damien picked up all of the coins set before him, and placed them into an inside pocket of his cloak. Sighing, he shook his head slightly, letting a few black strands of hair fall into his face, accompanied by a pair of the crimson ones that were mixed in with the mess of raven.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a huge man carrying a tremendously large sword on his back stepped inside, accompanied by a small, frail looking man who was apparently named Hobbles, or so the innkeeper stated when he entered. The man bearing the sword was taller than even Damien was, and he himself was rather tall. The man made him feel insignificant, and as such, he stayed sitting down.
“Hobbles…” Damien said in almost a whisper, scanning his memory for a man of this name. Hobbles claimed to have once been an adventurer in his earlier years, and made a request of those seated in the common room, a task to pluck a leaf from the bough of a certain tree in the midst of the Valinon forest. Planted by Inenhalla herself? Damien thought, trying his best to bring to the surface of his tormented mind any knowledge of such a tree.
While remaining silent, save for random mutterings under his breath as he tried to recall something of either Hobbles or the tree he sought, Damien watched as the desert man, the satyr, the kender, the man who had made a great spectacle in his eating, and the half-elf bearing the strange flail-like weapon agreed to this task.
Clearing his throat, Damien placed a hand on his rapier hilt, hidden underneath his cloak which flowed out around him in the seat, and began to speak softly, yet loud enough for Hobbles to hear him.
“Adventure is the wine of legend and tales. You have my assistance.” He said simply, and leaned his elbows on the tabletop, waiting for them to describe the path they must take to complete this assigned task. It had best be worth my time.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:50:53.
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Topic: **Noldaria*Final War**
Subject: Elandor
As his sincere request for another song is ignored completely Elandor stares at the bard for some time. Could it be that this good man didn't hear his question? Should he ask it again?
Just to make sure nobody else took them the kender picked up the silver coins again from the table where they were lying shiningly. The tinkling sound they made when he put them in his pocket was accompanied by the sound of the opening door to the commonroom. The two men that got in looked very interesting to the kender. One reminded him of the warrior in the adventuring group he participated in, and the thought of tricking this heavy-muscled man into a game of hide and seek passed Elandor's mind for a second. Seeing the old and fragile man in the shadow of this warrior was even more interesting.
"Hmmm," Elandor thought, "it is obvious that this man is very old. We all know that wisdom comes with age, so this beard must be very wise. Maybe he knows how to trick the bard into singing another song."
Convinced now that this man would surely help him on his quest for another song he took a step towards Hobbles. He stopped suddenly as the man began to speak, for the words struck his soul to the core.
This man was a collector!
Imagine the splendors that could be found in his pockets. Picture the wonderful treasure that would surely inhabit his pouches. For Elandor, this was like having the essence of life within reach!
Without another hesitation Elandor walked towards the old wanderer and tucked at the man's cloak, glancing at his face with glee in his eyes, while the others exclaimed their aid in Hobbler's quest.
"Mister, you're a collector? Me too! Let's see what you have in your pouches!"
Before the old man could reply Elandor started rummaging through his own leather containers.
"I have ... a ring made of copper, a oddly shaped stone ... the wing of a black raven ... an old piece of dried roasted meat *LICK* that still has some taste on it ... a wooden toothpick... oh, and a new fork that I borrowed from the innkeeper here. A lot of exciting stuff to add to your collection I should think!"
His head popped once more to look up into the face of the wanderer, eager for some anticipation, his hands still holding one of his pouches open so that the man could look at the contents.
Posted on 2006-09-04 at 18:50:33.
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