RPG #1 - Under the Dark of Night

Discussion in 'RPG #1 - Under the Dark of Night' started by Nienor, Apr 10, 2004.

  1. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Returning to one of the upper towers, Cymri thought she would seek out Lord Aquilius. They still had much to discuss. She was wondering what he planned on doing with the sword. While he was entitled to the emerald back, Cymri was unsure whether he should keep the entire sword. She was sure some type of compromise could be struck, once she had rid Fallorian of his presumption. Brendail would have more success with that than she could, Cymri laughed to herself.

    Turning around a dark corner, she spotted Menecrow no where near the room he was given. Sighing deeply, Cymri assumed he was up to trouble. Where ever Menecrow went, murder and mayhem followed. She had been foolish to think the generous pay and comfortable accomodations he had received would keep him from attempting to gain further rewards. While Menecrow probably wouldn't agree, he would have more than found his match in Lord Aquilius if he was caught. She hoped he was being cautious, it would be a shame to see his disemboweled body handing in the courtyard.

    Walking up quietly towards him, Cymri gathered up her skirts so they didn't accidentally touch Menecrow's boots. "Sightseeing, my friend?" she querried with a raised eyebrow. "Admittedly, there is much here to see, but please take precautions. Lord Aquilius doesn't encourage crime in his own keep." Cymri said in a much colder tone.

    About to berate Menecrow more, she was interrupted by a guard Cymri vaguely knew. "M'lady.. I bring bad news. Your prisoner has escaped and harmed Captain Brendail. I didn't want to bring you bad news..."

    Abruptly cut off by a wave of Cymri's hand, she dismissed the guard by saying, "I will not harm the messenger of bad news, go back to your post. This is my concern." Turning her attention back to Menecrow, she spoke in a slightly gentler tone of voice. "Would you like to accompany me in hunting down Fallorian again?"
     
  2. Radagast

    Radagast Art House Member

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    Menecrow gave a wide grin, letting his yellow and crooked teeth glint in the hallways light. Cymri may have thought Menecrow was up to crime, but he knew that he was only taking what was properly his. It was only on a rare occasion that Menecrow was caught, and he had always managed to find his way out and deliver justice to those who hindered him. Menecrow saw this time in no different manner.

    But before Menecrow could preach to Cymri and remind her of his high stature, the two were interrupted by a messenger. When Fallorians name came up, Menecrow gave a harsh laugh.

    "Would you like to accompany me in hunting down Fallorian again?" Cymri asked

    "Ah M'lady, it would be Menecrow's greatest pleasure to give the savage child some well deserved lessons. Lead the way!"
     
  3. Crusader

    Crusader Disturber of the Peace

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    Surveying the new arrivals that could be seen in the night, Gwandon smiled and then turned to Lord Traival.

    "It seems that things change much in these passing days. We ride south to the fortress of Alvarel, the elf who has turned this whole region into chaos. Darion will make the mortal strike, we shall make sure that the armies of alvarel are busy in the meantime. Now with your aid we may just survive"

    Turning to the east Gwandon could see light just beginning to fringe on the horizon.

    "You may have travelled hard, but we must make way soon if we are to reach the fortress by the next day, when we know how the land is laid we shall finalise the plan and make our attack."

    With a bow, he left and began waking nearby men, telling them to make ready the men to travel in and hour, soon it would be dawn, and every dawn brought new hope, Gwandon turned back to Traivel and smiled, a little earlier than dawn, but just as welcome.
     
  4. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    Darion watch the bustling activity through his looking glass. Thousands of soldiers milled around the perimeter of a hastily constructed fortress. His attention fell on one man in particular. Tall and bearded, he had the look of a seasoned warrior. He was one of the only men Darion had seen so far with a complete suit of matching armor. Darion marked the face, he suspected the man was an officer, if not the general leading the force. He would have to die if Darion found himself close enough.

    Sliding the tube back into his belt, Darion nimbly crawled back down out of the tree he had been perched it. The majority of his men stood gathered around him, all but the scouts. He addressed the group in solemn tones. “We are in position, at least as good a position as we will find. Now we must wait for Gwandon to play his part.”
     
  5. Crusader

    Crusader Disturber of the Peace

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    As the golden ball of the sun stood halfway above the western horizon, the column of horses and men snaked along the plain towards where the scouts had placed the fortress, not far past the small range of hills that the column was traversing the lowlands. Kerden had ridden back at noon with news of a guard post on the hills, the woodsmen and a few Dar'shien had been sent to make sure Alvarel had no news of their coming untill they were ready, they had come back an hour ago reporting success. It was nnot long now, not long till the fight came.

    After a short while the last hill was reached, and Gwandon dismounted below the crest, climbing to survey the fortress, Traivel and his elven friend followed.

    At the foot of the hill was a field af around a quarter of a mile, and past it was the fortress, stones placed together and built up for walls, iron fixtures to provide strength and as defence. Not a might castle, but nothing that they could break without siege engines, and there was no time to find or build those. Hopefully Darion was somewhere nearby, ready to make his move, Gwandon did not doubt the man could get himself inside the walls in the confusion, but there was the chance he wasnt there. Infront of the fortress was an encampment of motly shanties and tents that stretched a good way beyond, whatever army the elf had rallied, if it was of villagers then it may not be too much trouble, if they were trained soldiers then this could prove very messy. either way it had to be done.

    Gwandon turned to Traivel, who was busy conversing with his companion, and coughed loudly to drawn him from his coversation.

    "Lord Traivel, when we ride down into the field they will no doubt draw pikes to stop us, and a flanking manouvre will be exactly what they expect after that. Such a predicament would mean heavy losses in any battle, that is of course without Tunvali light horse....."

    As Gwandon went on explaining his plan, Traivel nodded slowly at some parts, others he donned a frown. Sometimes tactics were too ostentatious to work, but other times, they were to ostentatious to fail. Time was the only thing that could riddle out which one this was, as men bagan to don armour, string horsebows and run a honing stone along their swords one last time.
     
  6. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    Running through the halls of Lord Aquilis' manor, Fallorian drew many eyes, and many gasps, as he ran with the swrod in his hand. Realising how foolish he was, he tucked the sword away, and went in search of servants who might know where this Lord Aquilis was. After several attempts of asking where he might find him, Fallorian struck lukc, and was told that the man could be found in his work room, on the second floor. The question brought other question for himself, yet he merely answered them, saying there was an improtant message for the master.

    Running up a set of stairs he came to the second floor,a nd looked around for another servant to direct him to the right room. Walking down a corridor, he came across one such servant, who thankfully took to Fallorian's reason to see the master, and guided him down several corridors, and then left in front of the room. Giving thanks to the man, he waited till the man left, before he knocked on the door.
    "Yes?" came an answer from inside.
    Not bothering with subtleties he flung open the door and faced this much known Lord Aquilis. his eyes flicked aournd the room, and came to rest on the table where his much sought blade lay, beside the other man.
    "That would be mine, yes?" he said half questioningly, half demanding, "It seems that my serach is over" at this the man raised an eyebrow. Fallorian stood his ground, he would wait for the man to answer.
     
  7. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    "Come then," Cymri said to Menecrow, "I can anticipate where he went. If the servants led him where they should, this will work greatly to our advantage."

    Hiking up her skirts slightly, Cymri started running down a nearby staircase. Despite her heavy skirts, she moved rather quickly leaving Menecrow no choice but to follow behind her. Around and around she ran down the three spiral staircases leading back to the second floor of the keep. When she reached the second floor Cymri quickly turned right, bounding down a dusty, dimly-lit corridor. Looking behind to make sure Menecrow was keeping up, she continued moving as quickly as a determined woman can. With Menecrow tailing close behind, she made a few more turns, entering a rarely used part of the keep.

    "Stay just behind me and do not be fooled by anything you see." Cymri whispered to Menecrow as she opened the heavy iron bound door. Stepping inside, it appeared to be a scene of Fallorian facing down Lord Aquilius. Smirking slightly she called out, "How do you like your stay here so far Fallorian? I do hope you appreciate the subtle magic you find."

    Purposefully she walked over to a small glowing white orb in the corner of the room. Cymri calmly held it in the palm of her left hand while Fallorian stared at the item quizzically. Gesturing over the orb with her right hand she explained, "This is all an illusion. Surely you did not think a servant would let an unknown person near Lord Aquilius? My employer is a powerful mage, this illusion merely shows what you desire most."

    Keeping her expression neutral, Cymri carefully held the small orb in both her hands. Looking deeply within it, she opened up her hands letting the orb fall. In a blinding flash the orb disappeared, dispelling the illusion. Instantly the image of Lord Aquilius and the sword vanished, along with all the furnishings. The room appeared empty and desolate just as it truly was. Cymri was sure neither Menecrow nor Fallorian expected such a thing to occur, using their shock to her advantage she commanded Menecrow, "Could you help escort our friend to Lord Aquilius's throne room. It may be possible to make his desires come true."

    Walking back out of the empty room, Cymri was tailed by Menecrow "escorting" Fallorian. From years of practice, she took the twists and turns through the keep flawlessly. Quickly arriving back into a well lit and opulently furnished section of the keep. Striding confidently towards two heavily guarded doors she announced to the guards, "Lady Cymri to see Lord Aquilius. I have something he may want."

    Both tall guards replied in unision, "Yes m'lady." as they opened the heavy brass doors. Gliding gracefully through the carpeted room, she nodded and smiled at various people assembled in the throne room, though not stopping to speak with anyone. At the end of the room she stopped at another door, this one gilded and inlaid with gems. Without even a question, the two sentries opened up the door for her. Cymri entered and bade Menecrow to come with Fallorian.

    At the far end of the room a dark haired man sat in a polished throne. Two lovely serving women sat at the deis by his feet, ready to cater to his whims. Cymri gestured to Menecrow for him to stay back with Fallorian then walked over to the throne. Making her obeisance deeply she said, "M'lord Aquilius, I have brought this man before you, so you can decide what is to be done with him."

    Rising, Cymri turned towards the slightly confused Fallorian, "You wanted to speak to Lord Aquilius, now is your chance to do so." Cymri walked to the back of the room and waited with Menecrow, speaking to him softly.

    Before Fallorian could even take two steps the dark haired man drew out a jeweled sword and began fingering the hilt. Laying the sword across his knees he asked, "Is this yours? Impressive sword. The emerald was a fine conduit for magic all by itself. But in this sword it is much more powerful." Holding the hilt of the sword he sheathed the sword, then held it out towards Fallorian, "I am willing to return the sword with the emerald to you, for only one small thing. That you declare fealty to me. It is a small favor to ask for its return. No?"
     
  8. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    Fallorian was stunned. Events took palce faster than they could sink into his head. First he was looking at what appeared to be Lord Aquilis, the next thing he knew, the man vanished in a flash of light,a nd he was being taken to another room, and was now facing a man who asked him to pledge fealty to him. What? he thought. Frustration boiled within him. His family's aireloom is stolen, then his father is taken from him, then his father's last gift and words are barred to him as his sword is taken, and now he was asked to pledge fealty toa person he did not even know. Another's man thought entered his head,Bloody lords, always demanding things. This is the last time . Surprised at what he was doing, he broke free of this Menecrows grasp, and created a shield of air around him. Argh! another of his ancestors tricks...when will he do something of his own. Reaching out a hand, the sword tugged at Lord Aquilis, as it tried to get away, yet the man held it, struggling against the pull. He strained, he needed to get the sword....
     
  9. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Walking towards the back of the room, Cymri was eager to ask Menecrow what he saw in that room. He was a complex man, she couldn't imagine what his deepest desire would have been. Briefly considering what his answer could be, she almost started to rethink asking him. But it was too tempting to know what others saw in that illusion.

    Cymri remembered the first time she saw that illusion. She had been a scullery maid then, only employed by Lord Aquilius for a month. But Cymri could remember being enraptured with the sight of beautiful gowns and jewels in the room. Unaware that it was an illusion she had gone to touch one of the pretty silk gowns, quickly realizing something was wrong when she had only touched air. The memory of Lord Aquilius standing behind her laughing was forever etched into her memory. She would never forget the embarassment she felt as he showed her the glowing orb, dispelling the illusion. Although the meeting had been fortuitous for her, Lord Aquilius started showing some interest in a mere scullery maid, Cymri still was somewhat peeved by the memory. Even now looking in that room made her uncomfortable. What if Lord Aquilius knew what she saw in there?

    She started asking Menecrow the question, when out of nowhere, Fallorian shielded himself. Watching the unskilled magical spell, she wondered if he even knew what he was doing. Before he risked having Lord Aquilius take the sword and behead him, Cymri started a simple spell to cut through his shield. Glad for the fact she had been working on her powers and increasing them before she left, the spell was instantly effective.

    Out of magical reserves, even one simple spell was all she could manage an hour, Cymri lunged forwards, knocking Fallorian to the ground. Heedless of her delicate dress, she forced him face first onto the ground. Sometimes it paid to have grown up with several older brothers! Knowing her advantage was brief and only from surpise, she said, "What kind of a fool are you. You were offered your sword back in return for fealty. All Lord Aquilius wants is for you to agree not to take arms against him. Is that so difficult?"
     
  10. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    Out of nowhere anger built up inside him, I will not be used again , a thought said inside his head Never again , and rage exploded. He wove the air like a net, and drove the magic between him and Cymri as he lay on the floor. The exploded upwards and was pinned against the ceiling. No sooner thought, the man named Menecrow moved with a sudden speed, but the agic was quicker. He blasted another magic of air at the man, who was pinned against the wall. LAstly he turned to Lord Aquilis. "I want none of your words nor you as my master. Give me what is rightfully mine, or do you wish to bargai so with your life" he spoke. Yet the voice was not his. What was going on? memories sparng in his head, of old men using his ancestors for their own deeds, taking their pride and their possession. Anger raked him. Why would they not give him what was not theirs. Yet another thoguht was frantic. What is this? What is all this power? Where did it come from? Why did his ancestors flood to him now?

    He felt it again...that knife like magic to cut his own. Strenghting the net of air, he grimaced at Lord Aquilis, "Well?".
     
  11. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Cymri was in shock. One moment she was ontop of Fallorian, attempting to get him to yield; the next she was pinned to the ceiling by a flow of air. Writhing around she attempted to free herself from the air prison; but nothing seemed to help. She wrenched her head about slightly to see what Menecrow was doing. He too was pinned by a flow of air. Angrily he fought to get off of the wall to no avail. Resigned to letting Lord Aquilius take care of the situation she observed the fray.

    Random magical spells flowed from Fallorian. Bursts of angry air stirred everything in the room, including Lord Aquilius. It stirred him to wrath.

    Aquilius bolted up out of his throne, brandishing the bejewled sword in his hand. "How dare a worthless peon wreak havoc like this in my keep. Does the power of the sword also rob you of your wits? The village idiot would know better than to enter a mage's home with uncontrolled spells. Especially this mage's" he raged.

    Dropping the sword on the floor next to himself, Aquilius taunted, "If this item is yours and you want it so badly, come and get it." Discarding the sword, he raised his hands high up in the air, speaking two arcane words. Instantly the floor between Aquilius and Fallorian split apart, opening up into a chasm. The pair of men stared at each other assessing. Before Fallorian could attempt to cross the chasm, the man was immediately set upon by a large spider. The appearance of such a creature caused the air flowers holding Cymri and Menecrow to disappear.

    The loss of her bindings to the ceiling, caused Cymri to come crashing down onto the hard stone floor. Putting out her hands to protect herself if at all possible from the fall, she still landed on the cold floor with a sickening thud. Her left arm was crushed underneath her motionless body and her left leg was splayed at an unusual angle. Moaning softly, she attempted to pick up her head with no success. Freed from his bonds too, Menecrow rushes over to make sure Cymri was still alive.

    Enraged by the harm caused to his servant, Aquilius flicked his right wrist. The movement started a spell that left Fallorian immobilized. The mage glared into Fallorian's mutinous eyes, not willing to take any more nonsense. "If I wanted to I could do this to you." he threatened. Aquilius snapped his fingers, the spider instantly dissolved in to flames. The arachnid in a mere moment was reduced to ash. Gaining pleasure at his wide eyed stare, Aquilius walked back over to the sword, flung his black cape back and stepped on the sword with his foot. "You wish for what is yours..." he began. "Well then, let no one say I am a dishonest man. I will give you back what is yours." Aquilius finished with an unpleasant smile.

    Caught up in the moment, Aquilius raised both his arms into the air, swiftly brought them out towards shoulder length while chanting an incantation. A blinding flash of light burst through the room, then it was done. Flinging the sword to Fallorian's feet he proclaimed, "The emerald is mine. It was mine before I even knew you existed, it will still be mine. Hiring a henchman to steal it from me does not make it yours. Claiming it belonged to a long deceased ancestor does not make it yours. I gave you an opportunity to purchase it for the price of fealty, that offer is now void. Take your sword from me and never return." The dark man grinned triumphantly as he held the gleaming emerald aloft for Fallorian to see. The sword at Fallorian's feet was once again bereft of a stone. Once the mage finished speaking; he sat back down in his throne, then gestured in the direction of the sword. In an instant, both Fallorian and the sword disappeared. Sent back to where they had originally come from.

    Waking gradually by stages, Cymri opened her eyes. Groaning slightly, she rolled over onto her side; wincing when she rolled onto a painful wrist. She opened her eyes and saw Lord Aquilius sitting at her bedside, "Cedric, what happened?" she asked while attempting to sit up.

    "Lie back down, m'dear. You've been rather injured." Lord Aquilius replied with concern. Touching her forehead gently he said, "You have a rather large bump on your forehead, a broken wrist and a sprained ankle. The injuries aren't too bad for such a fall, but bad enough. Even with magical help it will take you several days to heal. I took care of the boy and his sword. Nothing for you to worry about now."
     
    Last edited: Nov 10, 2004
  12. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    No sooner than he had launched his assualt, Fallorian yet again found himself Unarmed, his magic cut off, and back in his home village. Looking around dumbfoundedly, he stared at the sword at his feet. Then slowly he picked up the sword, and exmained it, and saw that the green emerald he spent much money aquiring. Yet as he continued to examine it, thoughts flooded back into his head. He thought he saw how the magic worked, the little magic of transportation, and vaugely he felt as though he remembered it. shaking his head, he thought of what he would do. Go back? Well obviously, his first priority was to fulfill his father's wish. Next time he just needed a more subtle approach. Heading back down the road to his house. He hoped Nana was still there, he couldn't cook to save his life. Grimacing at the stupid joke he made his way.
     
  13. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Lying in bed propped up by several fluffy pillows, Cymri exulted in the luxury. After those weeks of hard traveling and being dirty all the time, she now had women to assist her in her bath and every convenience she wanted brought to her. The only downside to her being in her bed was the vile potions Lord Aquilius brought into her three times a day. They had made the pain non-existant and sped up her healing so fast she was recovered after only five days. But they tasted bad enough to make a grown man retch.

    While in idleness, her thought turned back to Darion and Gwandon. A brief flash of conscience made her remember that she left them to face Alvarel alone. With only farmers to help them, their chances of success were minimal. Cymri had no malice towards either of them and didn't want them to die in a futile confrontation. 'Maybe Lord Aquilius could send them some help' she thought. It certainly wouldn't hurt to have a garrison of trained men sent to assist them.

    Lost in her thoughts, Cymri hardly noticed Lord Aquilius enter her room. He walked over to her bedside carrying a vial of the hated healing potion. Sitting on her bed, he placed a vial of dark green liquid in Cymri's hands. "Cymri, sit up and finish this potion." he commanded. In a gentler tone he added, "This is the last time you have to drink this."

    Sitting up, she made a face at Lord Aquilius before she took the vial from his hand. Doing her best not to show how bad it tasted, Cymri drank it down quickly before her mind truly had a chance to think about the taste. Two of her maid still hovered around the bed. Cymri wanted to speak with Lord Aquilius privately, so she motioned for them to leave. Once she and Lord Aquilius wer alone, Cymri began "Cedric, we need to discuss more what happened while I was away."

    Arching one of his black eyebrows slightly, he countered, "Of course, Cymri. Tell me what you think is important that happened on your journey."

    "Remember I told you about Alvarel. And how Darion and Gwandon recruited farmers to fight him." Cymri began. Noticing that Lord Aquilius was nodding at her and interested she continued, "I don't think they can beat this dark elf alone, Cedric. The men they have are more used to using pitchforks to turn the earth than spears to slay dark creatures. It won't bode well for us even here in the Imber Mountains if Alvarel is allowed to be victorious. I was hoping you could send some help to them."

    "Cymri, I could. But I cannot be assured there is any direct danger to us. Therefore how can you expect me to put my soldiers are risk for a couple of ignoble adventurers and farmers." Aquilius argued.

    "They are not ignoble. Gwandon is a prince in his own country and Darion is a member of the Dai'Shien." she started.

    "Dai'Shien, you say?" Lord Aquilius interrupted. "I have wanted an alliance with that group for quite some time. They could help keep these peksy local lordlings from invading my territory. The Dai'Shein are quite an influential group, Cymri. I cannot afford for them to think I neglected one of their men in a time of need. You will go in the morning with a contingent of my men to this Daranbar of the Dai'Shien."

    "Darion, his name is Darion." Cymri corrected. "Surely you do not expect me to go. What help could I be on the battle field."

    Smiling patronizingly he said, "I certainly don't expect you to fight on the battlefield, m'dear. It would displease me greatly if you became injured due to fighting. What I want you to do is work out an agreement between me and the Dai'Shien. Alliance with them will work out well for me. I'd hate for them to feel I slighted one of their members when I could have helped."

    Cymri sighed in resignation. Once Lord Aquilius had decided he wanted her to do something there was no way to change his mind. "I will go for you, Cedric. I'll be ready to leave with whatever men you choose at first light. We have a long ways to travel."

    Lord Aquilius stood up and started walking towards the door. Smiling at Cymri he said, "Good. I knew you would understand why you are needed. You do not need to travel, I will prepare a magical amulet for tomorrow that will transport you to this Darion of the Dai'Shien. No point in wasting weeks of travel time." Since he had concluded his business with Cymri; Aquilius departed the room. Leaving her alone to pack for the journey.
     
  14. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    “We’re too close to them.” Lor’s commented as he, Darion, and the other men huddled around the fireless camp they’d made in the dense forest. “I think with a strong throw one of us could hit that fortress with a stone.”

    Darion nodded his agreement; they’d spent the last two days working in the shadow of Alvarel’s army. Luck had as much to do with their success as anything, and they all knew it. “You’re right, I’d expected Gwandon to make some move by now.” Darion shook his head, rolling over all the possibilities in his mind. He hadn’t mentioned the possibility of help arriving from his comrades in the north, at this point he had no way of knowing whether or not any message had even gotten through, and he didn’t want to overly inflate the hopes of those who followed him.

    He looked through to the dense canopy of trees to see that the light of day was quickly fading. Night was where he and his men had been having the most success, mainly through sacking supply caravans and groups of reinforcements traveling toward their enemies. “Another night of work for us, if nothing changes by morning we’ll move deeper into the forest, away from death’s eyes.” The other men nodded their agreement and started making the preparations that had become second nature to them.
     
  15. Radagast

    Radagast Art House Member

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    Menecrow gave a loud grunt as he stormed down the hallway, eyeing up the servants who quickly left his vicinity. The events that had occured several days ago still angered him greatly, Menecrow held a strong hatred towards the foolish boy. However the strong display of magic that Lord Aquilius displayed did make Menecrow realize that he should be more careful in his expeditions among the keep. It would be unfortunate to steal from the wrong room.

    Quickly strolling down the stairs, Menecrow stormed into his room. Grabbing his crossbow and his pack he made his way out once again. Noticing a servant who was passing by, Menecrow grabbed the man by the throat and threw him against the wall.

    "Tell me where the Lady Cymri's room is." The man remained silent, obviously trying to appraise Menecrow. Menecrow responded by tightening his grasp on the man's neck.

    "Down those stairs sir! Take a left, then two rights. It's the fourth room, you won't miss it." Before Menecrow let the man go, he gave a quick spit to his face. Storming off, Menecrow went in search of her room. Eventually he found it, and was surprised he had not realized the potential of theif that was available in this wing.

    Forgetting to knock on the door, Menecrow walked in.
     
  16. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Immediately after Lord Aquilius left, Cymri began packing once again for her departure. This time hopefully nobody would steal her horse and leave her with no spare clothing. It was incredibly inconvient that last time, she couldn't imagine she would be lucky enough to find a decent seamstress again, especially going to a battlefield. Although, Cymri couldn't imagine ever wearing that green dress with the orange embroidery again.

    Bending over in her closet, she removed two practical darker gowns and the pretty blue one she had bought just a few weeks before. One never knows when a fancy gown would be needed. Rummaging through her drawers, Cymri found the necessary shifts and stockings to pack also. She sat down at her mirrored bureau, perusing the jewelry she had left out. In the midst of selecting appropriate jewelry to bring with her, Menecrow rudely burst into her room. Slightly dismayed at his usual lack of manners, she snapped, "Most people knock before they enter my private quarters. Especially my bedchamber!"

    Menecrow's eyes immediately swept over to the jewels on her bureau. Cymri could see the desire in his eyes for the fine gems and gold displayed there. Piqued that he would show interest in thieving her personal belongings, she opened the bureau drawer and used her arm to rake all the jewels out of his sight. As soon as she stood up, Cymri remembered she was wearing nothing more than a thin silk nightgown. Avoiding Menecrow's gaze, she strode over to the closet and removed a thicker purple silk robe, using it to cover herself completely.

    Not wishing to offend Menecrow completely, after all he was useful to her, Cymri calmed herself down. It wouldn't be a wise move of accusing him of staring at those jewels. He would just deny it and become angry, therefore making him more likely to attempt stealing them. Deliberately keeping her face passive and her voice neutral she intoned, "I would imagine you are here to find out what my plans are now. Due to no planning of my own, tomorrow we leave here to with a garrison of men to return and aid Darion. I am of course assuming you plan on coming with me. I cannot be certain my master would avail himself of your skills in my absence."

    Listening to Menecrow's non-commital reply, she knew the lure of easy gold would make him accompany her tomorrow back to Darion. After all, how much could he steal here and get away with it. In truth, fencing the items she knew he had already pilfered would be difficult. The townspeople would not willingly buy anything they thought belonged to Lord Aquilius. And if by some chance they did, they would quickly learn never to do it a second time. If they were even around to do so a second time.

    Cymri wished to get back to her packing; and motioned for Menecrow to leave. Unfortunately for her, the man was busy being his usual self and seemed oblivious to the gesture. Sighing she decided to be more direct. "As you can see my dear Menecrow. I am concerned with my packing for the journey. It will be a pleasure to see you in the morning."

    As the man turned to leave, she couldn't resist a jibe at him, "oh and I would recommend using the laundresses services before we leave. There is still plenty of time for her to remove the stench of dung." Busying herself once again with packing, Cymri sat down at her bureau and began once again perusing her jewelry. A lingering thought remained; she had not informed Menecrow they would be travelling magically. But she didn't think the man would be overly concerned about it.
     
  17. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    It was full dark as the small company of men moved through the dense forest. Few would be able to take note of their passing, they moved with the silence skill of life long woodsmen. Leading them, in the distance was Darion, creeping from shadow to shadow he made the others seem like a herd of stampeding cattle, all the other men saw from his was an occasional shifting in the shadows if they knew where to look, it helped greatly that there was no moon tonight.

    One of the scouts had brought back word of a small supply caravan moving toward their enemy’s stronghold. Finding caravans that were not surrounded by a hundred or more guards was a rarity these past few days, it seemed that their presence was becoming bothersome to Alvarel’s minions. Darion pulled up short, and gave a quite, chirping call . . . the signal for the others to halt. A slight shifting in the darkness ahead caught his attention, there was no noise, but something gnawed at him that they were being followed. He squatted silently in a deep shadow studying the forest around him for several moments, and then slipped back to the rest of the men.

    “Someone follows us.” He whispered to Lors.

    “I heard nothing.” The man responded. “Perhaps it was another deer.” He spoke of an event from the previous night when Darion, stalking silently along came upon a deer that didn’t see him first.

    “No, whatever or whoever is out there is flanking us, keeping pace, but not overtaking.” He paused while he thought for a moment. “I would say that we are being hunted, but I believe there is only one. Whoever it is, is very skilled, it took me a while to realize what was happening. I want you to take the rest of the men and double back towards camp, we can’t risk an assault tonight when we are being watched.”

    “What of you?” Lors asked.

    “I will find out who stalks us.” Darion smiled slightly as he turned and moved back into the shadows.

    · * * * * * *

    For over an hour Darion and his unknown pursuer played a stealthy game of cat and mouse in the forest. One skirting the position of the other, never getting quite close enough for one to make out the other. It was difficult hunting a prey that moved in virtual silence and remained hidden in the shadows of the trees. Finally Darion found himself crouched in a shallow ditch listening to the sounds of the night, the crickets and nocturnal predators prowling in the trees. He watched the shadows looking for any hint of movement. He held his breath as he saw one of the shadows move, detaching itself from a tree and moving along the bank right in front of him. From what he could see it appeared to be a man. Darion waited for several moments before creeping up the side of the creek at onto the bank. As he watched the figure moved out of the shadows again, stood, and turned to face him.

    “You could sneak up on your own shadow.” Came a voice he recognized.

    “Githandas?” Darion asked as he moved closer, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

    “Hello, Darion. You’re a hard man to find.” Replied the elf, stepping forward and clasping Darion’s forearm in greeting. “I assume that you are the one responsible for the numerous corpses I’ve found in the area?” In response Darion simply grinned.

    “It’s good to see you my friend.” Darion said. “I hope that you brought help with you.”

    “I follow Garen Traivel.” Githandas responded.

    “The lord Master is here?” Darion asked.

    The two stood and talked for a while, Githandas filling Darion in on the force that he traveled with to aid in the fight. Darion found himself filled with renewed hope, after discovering that Gwandon was working with a formidable force and would be attacking soon. The two Dar’Shien parted company and Darion returned to camp with good news for his men. If all went as planned, tomorrow would be an interesting day.
     
  18. Lego

    Lego God amongst men

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    Alvarel was in his dark fortress, his army was ready, and he had been informed off the approachinng armies which had a pittiful hope of defeating him, he then turned to his chief.

    "The time is now at hand, it is almost time for the awakening, and to settle all accounts, you know what I mean" Alvarel gave him a look which explained all, the chief was to eliminate all spies of Gwandons army that had been placed in the dark fortress, and to destroy those that were not true followers, Alvarel was no intent on getting what he wanted, he was not going to stop now and he definatly would not think twice about killing his own people.

    "Send out Species 17, I think the humans from Talvia are not convinced, torch the town and kill everyone in it, but then return to me, as the enemie are not far away, then torce the lands, blocking off their path, torch every nearby forest and block every road, set up decoy destressed victims, attached to barrels of oil, tell them to ignit the oil when one of the little princes followers approaches, Then set all of the creatures loose, save my best creations till last, prepare the pitiful humans for battle and if anyone dares to oppose you or I, kill them!"
     
    Last edited: Dec 10, 2004
  19. Crusader

    Crusader Disturber of the Peace

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    Riding back along the ranks of men on horses, Gwandon made his way over to Lord Traivel and his men, who were still as statures in perfect formation.

    "Ready lord Traivel?" Gwoandon said as he put his helmet on, the last piece of his suit of armour, crafted by master smiths for perfect protection aswell as ease of movement.

    "As ready as one can be for a persuit such as this, I still have my doubts"

    Shaking his head Gwandon began heading to the crest of the hill, with hundreds of men behind. "We all have doubts, it is just a matter of focusing on what you trust, I trust the Dar'Shien, in the hundreds of years since their founding I have not yet heard of them turning tail and fleeing when needed, so I have faith" the last shout echoes a little, Gwandon had no doubt of their valour, but the elf had surprises in store, and valour only went so far.

    Orders were still being relayed as the host began the slow trot descenting the hill, over half a mile ahead was the first camp beofre the fortress, already sentries would be shouting to take up arms. The ranks of Dar'Shein in their blue armour came over in perfect formation, swords unsheithed and ready in hands, some had bowd resting on the pommel of the saddle, at the edges were the woodsmen and the villagers gathered together sinc ethe ordeal began, the few who would fight knwoing the odds.

    Sword at his hip on the saddle and lance in hadn, Gwandon held the front line, armour with inlaid with gold and red enamel glinted faintly in the light of early morning. hihglighted by the sea of blue armour behind, and the rought steel armour that could be found for the others.

    The distance between the host and the camp lessend, already men streamed between them taking up what weapons they had, pikes, bows, swords and hoever much else, at some places walking monstrosities stalked between the men, the giant wolves like those before, and others, some to hideous to imagine. The gap still lessened, swords were readied for battle and the final cry went up, the host began to speed up its pace, from a trot to a gallop, bringing steel ever closer to steel, just the drum of hooves could be heard, foreboding the sounds of battle, the clang of steel, the cry of death. The gallop became a foll blown charge, the gap shrunk, space disappearing like nothing, Just a little mroe and they would be in bow range, arrows would fly, and the first move would be made.
     
  20. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    The shallow creek that ran from the woods, through the field, and past the hastily constructed fortress was the only cover the terrain allowed Darion and his men as they crept through the shallow water toward the high stone walls. They spent the night preparing for their excursion; their many victories had left them with an abundance of weapons and armor. Darion had taken the time to select the best fitting mail shift for each man, as well as a helmet and crossbow. Though he disliked using the awkward weapons, a long bow was impractical in the tight confines of an enemy stronghold. Darion wore no armor himself, he knew that his road would turn away from that of the others sooner or later, and the crude armor found in the south would be entirely too cumbersome for the Dar’Shien. He picked out the most well balanced broad sword he could find and strapped it too his back, and tied a sheath of throwing knives to his belt. With the dagger strapped to his leg, and his long sword hanging from his hip, Darion felt like a walking armorer.

    At their slow pace it took the group nearly an hour to reach the near corner of the keep. Roughly stacked stones and loose mortar presented Darion with the perfect opportunity to enter. Making a small gesture to the other men, Darion started up the wall along. He trusted the men with him, but certain situations required a level of stealth that they simply were not capable of with their limited training. Darion kept his eyes fixed on the top of the bastion where he caught the glimpse of a sentry making his rounds. As he nearer the top, Darion pulled himself to the lip and peered over, facing away from him was a heavily armored soldier carrying a large crossbow and a short sword at his waist. Another soldier was diligently making his rounds, though he seemed more interested in what was happening inside the keep than outside. After watching the pair for a moment to catch on the rhythm of the sentries pacing, Darion pulled himself over the lip of the small tower anchoring the corner of the keep.

    As his feet touched the stone floor Darion drew his long sword from it’s scabbard and stepped behind the pacing sentry, as the man turned to walk to the other side of the tower he caught sight of Darion as he moved in with a two handed sweep of his single edged long sword. The sound of his comrade’s body crumbling to the stones drew the attention of the other man. He lived long enough to get a startled look on his face as the tip of a sword punctured his throat, then he too fell silently to the floor.

    Darion took a moment to survey his surroundings, making sure than no one had noticed the brief struggle, and would sound an alarm. To his relief, everything seemed relatively calm, so he leaned over the edge of the bastion and signaled for the others to follow him up. After several men had slipped over the top edge of the tower, Darion caught the sound of horse’s hooves, many horses. He pulled his looking glass out of his coat pocket and focused on the field north of the fortress. Though they entered on the south side, and he had to look across the keep to see the field, Darion saw the ranks of armored men on horseback pouring down the slow hill and toward the disheveled army camped outside of Alvarel’s sanctuary. At their tip Darion could make out roughly two score men in deep blue armor, following them came a legion of the Tunvali light horse, in their polished silver breastplates. ‘The tip of the spear’ Darion though to himself, allowing a slight smile to cross his lips.

    As the last of his men reached the top of the tower the group huddled near the inner wall, briefly reviewing their plan of attack, Darion once again reminded those with him that their mission depended on the use of stealth rather than brute force. “If we fail, or are discovered too soon, there will be no reinforcements to bail us out, we are on our own.” He said to those around him. Darion sat and watched as the twenty men he led into the keep filed down a flight of stairs and into the main body of the keep. After they were out of sigh, he turned and went the opposite direction.