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Thu Oct 23, 2014 9:24 pm
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TheCrimsonLady says...



-Caioliss-

I spin around when I hear the crunch of someone stepping on a leaf. No one emerges from the darkness, but the wind I summon tells me of a fey. I push between Jorgen and Kollek and call into the night, "Show yourself! I can scent you on the wind." We wait in silence, and just as I'm about to speak again, a figure steps forward.

"Your highness."

I squint, confused. " Step forward, into the light. And don't call me that. I may be related to the queen, but I'm no princess." I look at Jorgen and Kollek. Both grip their weapons. I turn back to the fey and look at his features. A memory surfaces from the back of my mind, and I say, "You're one of her majesty's advisors."

"Her most trusted advisor, if I may say so, your highness."

Kollek pipes up. "Who are ye'? And what d'you want with us?"

A look of distaste crosses the councilman's face. "I want.... nothing with you. My words are for the princess."

My temper flares. "I am not a princess! And don't talk to them like that! How would you like it if people treated you like you were dirt?"

I can see the disbelief on their faces out of the corner of my eye.

He sniffs. "Yes, of course, your highness." I'm about to yell at him again, but he holds up a hand and goes on. "I think my title for you is more accurate than you think, my lady." He pulls a small box out of his jacket and tosses it to me.

Jorgen looks at it curiously. "What is that?"

I open it in answer. Turning it to the light, I peer into it. The glint of a ruby meets my eye. I grip the small band and pull it out.

My breath catches. "Tell Maeve to take her mind games somewhere else."

Kollek approaches from my other side. "Why's that ring so important?"

I sigh. "It's the ring of state. A monarch gives it to their heir."

The faerie nods. "It's not a mind game. You are the rightful heir." My knees wobble, and I take a step back.

"How the bloody hell am I the heir to the crown?! I'm part human, for Niamh's sake!"

He snorts. "Human? Less than a drop. You're already nearly as powerful as Maeve was at your age. You call yourself human?"

I grip my hair. "You're lying! You have to be. What about Aodhan! Isn't he next in line?"

"He doesn't have the royal blood. Lady Caioliss, you must accept that you are the missing princess."

I'm sure that my heart stops. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Jorgen looks at me, worried. "Are you-"

I nod. "I'm fine." I gulp air as my lungs start working again. "Tell me that you didn't just name me as Mab's... descendant."

He shrugs. "Perhaps I did."

"Who's Mab?" Kollek looks confused.

"Maeve's sister. She disappeared centuries ago. She... would have been next in line for the throne, but-"

The councilman nods. "Exactly. And therefore, you should be queen."

A thought flashes into my mind, and I smile smugly. "Then I abdicate the throne to Maeve. There."

The councilman snorts. "Doesn't work like that, princess. Maeve isn't declaring you to be queen- she wants you as queen after she passes on."

"What's so bad about being queen, after all?" Jorgen studies my face.

I flinch. "All of Maeve's power will be passed on to me at my coronation." If I am ever crowned. "One of her... powers... is that she never regrets anything."

"Some people would say that that is a gift, my lady."

"How is that a gift?! If you never regret anything, then you can never learn from your mistakes! And you could do anything- to anyone- and go on happily! That power turns you into a monster!"

"A queen with a conscience is no good to Isenor, your-"

"No. You are going to leave. Even if I was ready to give up my conscience in exchange for the throne, I will not complete the task she has assigned for me!"

Quick as a snake, the councilman darts forward and pushes the ring onto my middle finger. It shimmers, and the ruby shifts into a diamond."It is done. You will complete the task, before your coronation, which is to be in a month."

Tears stream down my face. "And if I don't?"

"You will. By your leave, your highness-" And he disappears.

Screeching, I hurl a bolt of wind at the nearest thing I can find- a rock. It clatters down the hillside, disturbing other rocks along the way.

Both Jorgen and Kollek stare at me. "There must be a way around losing your humanity," Jorgen offers.

"Even if there is, I can't complete the task Maeve has set for me."

"It seems as though your queen would like you to succeed. Why declare you her heir if she wishes you to die?" Kollek is trying to reason with me. Perfect. An insane person is trying to reason with me. "It may seem impossible now, but such tests only improve-"

I hiss. "You don't understand. My task is to take your precious feather from you and then kill you!" They stare at me with identical dumbfounded expressions. "I. Can't. Do. It." Before I lose control, I run down the hillside, away from them, and glamour myself into a sparrow.

Good luck finding me now, Maeve.
Last edited by TheCrimsonLady on Fri Nov 28, 2014 1:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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r4p17 says...



~Renalf~

Renalf gripped his sword tightly. Sweat dripped onto the handle of his ite the fact that it was cold. He waited silently for the orcs to close in, but inwardly his heart was racing and he was scared out of his wits despite the fact that he had been in many situations tighter than this. Perhaps living forever wasn't such a good thing after all! Who knows?

He thought he could see an orc across the campground. He closed his eyes and made one final payer to Obad-Hai that Roco would survive long enough for the healers to arrive. He knew that if the orcs were to take take Roco. But they wouldn't. Not unless it was over his cold dead body.

When he opened his eyes he was sure he could see the glint of a steel blade in the firelight. The time had come for him to make his move. With a cry he sprang up with a yell and leapt at the short figure stooping over Roco poised to make an end of him. In an instant the orc's expression was transformed from one of glee and delight in his cruelty and transfixed to one of shock and regret. Instead of being met by a helpless victim he was confronted by an angry and powerful wizard, a site none look forward to.

The Orc lamely tried to block the wizard's jab and pulled a shield off of his back. His breath was loud and came in gasps. He stood there, for a second unsure of what he should do. Renalf too was reluctant to make up his mind. Then, with a flash he leaped over to the fire, grabbed a stick that was half burned with only the protection of his cloak's sleeve, and hurled it at the Orc. The Orc only just managed to bring up his shield in time.

"Be gone!" Renalf shouted. "I have had enough trouble on my journey! The last thing I need is a hoard of your kind troubling me!"

"Ub darz wa hûs ger ge fu deab!" the shot creature cried.

As if on cue a dozen goblin like creatures stepped out of the woods. They were followed by a large Orc of immense stature. He wore a coat of polished steel and wielded a club big enough to make Renalf quiver. He backed up slowly until he stood right in front of Roco. His feet were planted firmly in the ground indicating that he had no intention of leaving. The Orc's eyes glinted evilly. Renalf's spirit fell. A second later the Orc leapt upon Renalf and was struggling to strangle him.

"Make sure he is captured alive, Gushlug!" a voice in the common language cried out.

Renalf could not tell where the voice originated because he was too busy struggling with the Orc, but he wasn't much encouraged by it. The little Orc he was fighting right now wasn't all that dangerous to him if he unleashed his power, but a dozen Goblins and and half Troll half Orc was enough to make him reconsider. Even so, he would much rather die fighting than be captured and tortured to death. What worried him the most was Roco. In the condition that he was currently in he wouldn't be able to survive for more than I day under the watchful eyes of the Orcs. Who knows what they would do to him?

"What grudge do you have with me?" Renalf asked as he hurled the Orc to the ground furiously.

"I don't have any grudge against you! But the Kremquill's blood has been shed today in large numbers! We have decided to make a reprisal on all who pass through this land." Renalf glared at the tall man that stood before him.

"Well then your dual is accepted! I am willing to fight you! If I win I will be allowed to walk free with my companion. If you win you can do what you please to me, but don't harm my companion. He is sick and in need of a physician. He will die soon without your aid!"

"Oh, don't think that I plan on giving you that satisfaction. I will let my followers take care of you!"

With an evil grin on his face the man turned on his heel and walked away. Renalf. Immediately attempted to break into the man's mind, but he was met at every turn by a wall of iron. He could not penetrate it anywhere. Before Renalf could find a weakness two of the goblins maneuvered to his rear and began to cut off his retreat. With a blast of magic he blocked their path by making a spring of water well up. The Goblins who extremely afraid of water leapt back in terror.

The spell drained a fair amount of energy from Renalf. He leaned heavily on his staff for a few moment and only his glinting eyes seemed to hold the Goblins back from attacking him; but as they began to advance a sudden rush of adrenaline surged through him and he pick up Darowë in preparation for combat.

With a deft move he jumped up and caught hold of a tree branch with his left hand and kicked the lead goblin in the head squarely. The goblin howled with rage. The rest of the goblins continued unchecked. Renalf gauged his energy level hastily and decided that he might have enough energy to perform one more low level spell, but his energy would be practically gone after he did so. Instead he channeled his energy into his ability to fight off the goblins. He performed a spell that enhanced his fighting senses and skills.

One after another three goblins fell before Darowë. The rest surrounded him in a wide circle. Renalf gazed in vain in every direction to see if there was a way to escape. There were still eight goblins to contend with and if he moved to escape he would have to deal with half of them before he was out of the ring. Who knew how many more creatures laid in hiding?

Roco, who lay directly behind him stirred and turned over. Renalf ignored it, but a moment later his eye caught a movement in his peripherals. Simultaneously the two goblins in front of him sprang forward with a little squeal of pleasure. Renalf made a step forward whirled to face the goblins in his rear. He caught then as they were dragging Roco away and ran one of them through chest. The other fled, leaving Roco lying on his back.

In this short period of time the two remaining goblins jumped onto his back and held his legs. Renalf was sent sprawling to the ground and was then pinned down. There was no way that he could escape now without being killed in human form. If he were to turn into his spirit he could get away, but the ancient laws of magic say that a spirit cannot bring direct harm on a mortal. This included Renalf's limited ability to control people's minds. But he could tell that there was some other power near him that might be able to overpower him despite his best efforts. For now he would let the orc's and the goblins hold him prisoner. Besides, he would need to look after Roco.
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Sun Nov 23, 2014 10:48 am
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BrumalHunter says...



Diánterrus - The Hunt Continues


It had been several days since the party of three had left Evincourt, yet Dresdan seemed to have grown no larger than he already was. He knew it, and the other two did as well.

The oxen tasted great, Diánterrus, Dresdan said, but I think your money was wasted.

"Or," Diánterrus said, undeterred, "it simply takes a while. I don't know much about dragons or dragonets, so I had only stated what little knowledge I had, which, in light of recent events, seems to be woefully inadequate."

Dresdan did not seem any happier.

"Alright, how about this: as soon as I can, I shall do some research on dragonets to see if we can discover how they mature. Would that satisfy you?"

Dresdan seemed a little less depressed. I suppose...

"Then our problem is solved!" Oqrol exclaimed moodily.

"We can rest as soon as we reach the bridges," Diánterrus stated.

"How far is the Inmoden still?"

"It ought to be just beyong this hill." The party climbed said hill and spotted a river slicing through the countryside in the distance. "See, there it is."

And how do you plan on crossing it? Dresdan enquired. It seems too large to ford.

"Oh, it definitely is," Diánterrus confirmed, "which is why several bridges exist. Four, to be precise."

So, which one would our quarries, and therefore we, choose?

"The four bridges are controlled by dragons, trolls, goblins and bandits, in that order from our left to our right," Oqrol said.

Bandits, then?

"Indeed, but there is always the chance they have destroyed the bridge," Diánterrus cautioned. "Fortunately, we can always cross at the goblins' bridge if necessary." Diánterrus produced the jar with the rat/goblin in it and threw in a piece of cheese. "Our friend here will ensure it."

After returning the jar to its place in his satchel, Diánterrus led the party on to the bridge. The sun was high in the sky before they finally reached the bridge.

What are the chances that the bandits will simply tell us what we want to know? Dresdan asked.

"With a bit of persuasion," Oqrol replied, grimacing, "very high."

However, when the three sneaked into the bandits' camp, it was clear violence would not be needed - the bridge was nowhere to be seen, and what few bandits remained at the ruined camp were in no condition to threaten two mages and a dragonet.

Diánterrus approached the largest of the tattered tents and gestured for Oqrol and Dresdan to stand guard, just in case. Inside the tent, an old man with only one hand sat cross-legged on a frayed carpet. He appeared to be meditating.

"I apologise for the disturbance," Diánterrus said, "but have you perchance encountered a Moomin Troll, a vampire, a dwarf, two humans, two Wizards and a grey Ollemcrat recently?"

The old man remained silent for a while longer, presumably finishing his meditation, before rising and speaking. "I cannot help you with the majority of the individuals you have named," he said with a grating voice, "but a human and a dwarf had indeed passed through here sometime ago."

"One human and one dwarf caused all of that?" Diánterrus asked and pointed outside the tent.

The old man grunted. "That they did, but what's it to you?"

"Not that it concerns you, but I happen to be pursuing them."

"Then I should wish to join you!" The old man turned around and started gathering his things.

"Why would I permit that?" Diánterrus asked condescendingly. "I have no use for an old man."

The man stopped and turned to glare at Diánterrus. "This old man happens to be a very powerful sorceror," he said, glowering, "one you would do well not to cross."

"Have you seen my companions?" Diánterrus responded indifferently. He opened the flap so that the sorceror could see Oqrol and Dresdan, who had their backs turned to him.

"Very well." The sorceror despondently sat himself down on his carpet. "What do you want? I am sure you have noticed our lack of a bridge."

"Yes, I have, but how does a dwarf and a human lay waste to such a large camp and escape unharmed?"

"In my defence, the human did have a battle-trained bull and a some enchanted sickle."

"Elaborate."

"Well, a spell that would normally have incinerated an ordinary weapon was merely absorbed by that barbarian's weapon. Believe me, that silver sickle is no ordinary weapon."

"I assume the sickle is responsible for your stump?"

"Don't remind me," the sorceror said miserably.

"What about the six others I had mentioned earlier?"

"What about them?"

"The other three bridges are too well guarded for even them to consider. Where else could they have crossed the river?"

"Nowhere, unless they were foolish enough to go through the Cursed City of Deela."

"I have heard of Deela, the Goddess of Curses, but not of a city named after her."

"That's because the city is hidden in the hills to the southeast of here. Hidden beneath, the hills, more accurately. I only know of it because I had travelled there once." The sorceror paused dramatically. "I was lucky to escape with my life."

Diánterrus knew that if his quarries had entered the city, he could not follow - it would prove disasterous not only for him, but for Dresdan as well, and he had come to like the dragonet.

"Very well, then we shall await them at the ruins," he announced an turned to march out of the tent. "But before I leave," Diánterrus added, and turned back to face the sorceror, "what do you know of dragons? How they mature, specifically."

"Dragons and dragonets grow by eating food, of course," the sorceror answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "but they still have to age. Once they have aged sufficiently, they experience a growth spurt, for which energy stored from eating excess food is used. 'Growth sprut' may not be the best term though, since it may take anything from a month to a year for the dragons, or dragonets, to reach maturity. After that though, they can continue growing by consuming ever more food and by aging. The older the dragon, the more powerful it is."

"Valuable information, thank you," Diánterrus said. He then produced a few silver coins and tossed them to the sorceror. "Compensation for your cooperation," he said, before leaving.

"Well?" Oqrol enquired once Diánterrus was outside.

"Those we seek have taken an unexpected detour - one we cannot take ourselves."

"So we give up, is that it?" Oqrol asked, furious.

"Of course not! If we make haste, we may reach the ruins before them. Come, we are finished here."

Diánterrus and his companions returned the way they had come, but proceeded west, towards the nearest bridge. "Now," Diánterrus said, pulling the jar and its rat from his satchel, "it is time for our little friend to earn his freedom."
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

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Wed Nov 26, 2014 9:27 am
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TakeThatYouFiend says...



Kevin, and the wonderful maze of death and doom.

So this was the situation. One endless maze of traps. One angry hunting party (hopefully a very long way) behind. And a Moomin, a body swapped werewolf and vampire, a cat with amnesia and a seriously weakened wizard. This was going to be fun.
The five ran. The whole group stumbled through the subterranean tunnels, Kevin usually in the rear, watching as side passages flitted passed them. "Hey, is anyone drawing a map or anything?"
"I'm memorizing the route," shouted Dominic back, who was leading the group, "but it doesn't help that the maze is changing around us."
"Well that's just great." Kevin could hear the hunters in the distance, dogs, or more likely werewolves, howling. Suddenly, they were closer, as if they were around the last bend the party had taken.
"Through here." Dominic stopped suddenly, and Kevin almost crashed into him from behind, before he pushed the whole party through a small door, about four feet high, in the left hand wall.
As Dominic closed the door the barking seemed to get quieter, as though it were a long way away again. Then Dominic looked at Sarris, and asked "Could you lock this door?"
"Certainly," said Sarris, "and although I do not know of the situation I can see our predicament."
With this pressing matter dealt with, the group felt more at liberty to explore the room in which they found themselves. It was dingy, but appeared to be filled by a cliched blue light emitting from some sort of fungus in the wall. It was roughly circular, and the ceiling was high. There were no exits to be seen save a trapdoor, in the roof, directly in the center.
"Looks like the only way out," said Annette, "and we haven't got any way of getting up there."
"Well we can always go back the way we came." said Xander, tuning to look at the door they came through. And then he stopped, staring. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at. The door was tiny, about two inches high.
"Bugger." said Kevin. "And I forgot my ladder and all."
You know that studded leather armour in films? Nobody wore that. I mean, how would metal studs improve leather armour?





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Wed Nov 26, 2014 1:54 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Dominic

Everybody looked as the door through which they had just passed shrunk to the size of a mouse hole. A strange ringing rang in their ears, clearly eminating from the fungus on the wall.
"NIrnshroom," Dominic said, walking over to the fungus, "Extremely poisonous, but extremely valuable." He picked up a sharp rock from the floor and started harvesting some of the fungus.
"Okay, we need a plan," Xander said, leaning against the circular wall, "We can't stay in here forever."
"If only we had a ladder," Kevin sighed, "then we could be out of here in no time."
Suddenly, appearing in a niche in the wall beside Xander, a long black ladder appeared.
"Will you look at that!" Sarris exclaimed, "Its like magic!"
"That's because it is," Dominic said, wiping his hands on his cloak, "It seemsthat whatever you need will appear in this room."
"Oo," Kevin said, "In that case; I would like a nice big plate of food and a large pint of ale."
After several minutes of nothing, Kevin shrugged. "Fine, be that way!"
"Enough lollygagging," Xander said, picking up the ladder and moving with it to the trapdoor, "Up we go."
"I'll go first," Anette said.
"Yes, then I believe it should be Sarris, Kevin and Xander," Dominic said, "I'll go last."
Anette started climbing up the ladder, with SArris and Kevin lining up at the foot.
"I can feel a breeze through the hatch!" Anette said.
"It must lead into a tunnel," Sarris said.
"Hopefully it leads us into a domain where my magic will return," DOminic said.
With that Anette opened the hatch. A cold breeze flowed into the room, immediately causing the Nirnshroom to go dark.
"Is it safe?" Kevin shouted up through the trapdoor.
"Yeah," Anette's voice drifted down.
"Well, up you go then," Xander said.
Sarris and Kevin quickly climbed through the trapdoor, swiftly followed by XAnder. AS DOmininc climbed, however, something strange happened. The ladder started shivering and soon was disappearing under Dominic.
"Hurry Dominic!" Kevin exclaimed.
Dominic was within reach of the trapdoor when the ladder completely vanished. He reached out with an arm, and was about to fall when Anette and XAnder grabbed hold of him and pulled him out.
GAsping on the cool stone, Dominic heard SArris say something in Dwarvish.
"What did you say?" Kevin inquired.
"This plaque here," Sarris said, pointing, "It says Gzomriflt, whatever that is."
"Hallelujah," Dominic mumbled, feeling the magic slowly returning to his body.
"Uhm, guys," Anette said,"I think they're coming for us.":
Indeed, Dominic could hear howling coming down the tunnel.
"Run," he muttered, before they all ran towards Gzomriflt.
Former incarnations have been:
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TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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Wed Nov 26, 2014 4:57 pm
r4p17 says...



~Gamleor~

Gamleor rode up in front of the Temple of Obad-Hai. It was made of tall logs, decorated with ivy to decorate it. The entire temple was made of natural materials because Obad-Hai was the god of nature. Gamleor thought to himself that it almost looked better than large stone temples decorated with gold silver and bronze.

Gamleor was a wood elf and he enjoyed things that were made naturally. Despite the fact that he had lived for hundreds and thousands of years, he still couldn't help but stare in wonder at the structure. It was once of to the few temples that he actually liked. This of course wasn't the first time that he had come to the temple, but it never really lost its nobility.

This particular temple had only been around for the past few hundred years, but it was rebuilt over the original structure that was made millennia ago by the high elves. Gamleor had only vague memories of it, but whenever he returned to the new temple his more vivid memories of the old soon began to resurface.

He was jolted out of his reminiscence as he thought of how Roco might perish and how worried Renalf was be. There was also the reminder in the back of his mind of his original mission to destroy the goblins occupying the mountains.

Gzomrilflt will probably be the best place to start, now that I think of it, the reports that I received may have indicated that the goblin presence was actually there, not to the mountains to the north. First I will need to get help for Roco.

Gamleor urged his horse to one last small effort. His horse was a white horse of one of the ancient breeds. It was one of the best horses you could ask for. But Renalf's was practically ready to fall on the ground from exhaustion.

"Come on boy. Don't worry, you will be able to take a rest in just a few minutes. All that I ask of you is to go to that temple. Once we get there you can rest. I will make sure that you are fed and that you have plenty of water as well."

Gamleor's words seemed to comfort the horse. It let out a soft whiney and stumbled forward the last few steps of the way. Elves have a certain air about them that always seems to calm horses. They know how to handle horses better than any other race. It doesn't matter what kind of elf or what they are like, horses are always calmer around them.

"Who are you?" one of the human guards at the door asked. He wore a white tunic with a green cloak. Each of the guards had a staff in his hands crossed, blocking the doorway.

I am Gamleor, Lord of Catôna, Gamleor replied in through his mind. I am coming here to the temple on behalf of a friend of mine, his name is Roco. Please let me pass so that I may offer sacrifices to Obad-Hai!

The guards had surprised looks on their faces, but they let Gamleor pass. No further words were spoken, but the guards seemed to sense that Gamleor's mission was urgent despite the brevity of his words.

Gamleor walked into the temple down a hallway flanked by wooden columns, majestically dominating the temple's interior. They too had little leaves on the capitals. On either side of him Gamleor could see doors opening up to little cubicles, presumably leading to storage rooms or rooms for the priests to stay in. At the very end of the hall there was a plain white curtain. It had little frills around the edges. On the other side Gamleor new that on the other side of this curtain was an altar.

The alter was the only thing in the entire temple that was made of stone. Gamleor needed to get to it to sacrifice as soon as he could. From what he could remember they ordinarily sacrificed around midday, but that was only for their daily sacrifice. All Gamleor had do was find one of the priests.
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Mon Dec 01, 2014 9:08 pm
NicoleBri says...



Annette

My senses of werewolf were beginning to get stronger, I heard much noise of werewolves howling and it was almost like an instinct for me to howl back but I held out on it. I wasn't a werewolf nor would I start acting like one. My name is Annette and I am THE infamous vampire.

"You know, you will pay for this Xander!" I yell to him with gritted teeth as we ran from all the "things" chasing us. I had no clue on what was really happening, all I knew was I had to run. If I was my normal self maybe I would be of use but as of now, it just isn't possible.

I sighed and I kept feeling myself become weary, I realized then, how weak I was without my body. Yes wolves are immortal to but it just isn't the same, it is as though my soul is weaker than this body I am in.

Finally I give out and fall to the ground, I hear myself whimper and before I knew it, my eyes fell shut.

Slowly, I drifted into a limp sleeping state..

I am of no use.
Last edited by NicoleBri on Thu Dec 11, 2014 9:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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methrirr123 says...



Jorgen Holdt

She had gone so quickly, and with a thousand questions boiling in Jorgen's mind. Firstly, though he suspected some kind of fae oath held her, why could she not just disregard the orders? Second, she can become a sparrow?

Mostly, however, was the question as to what kept her from killing Kollek and Jorgen? Did she fear for her life? Jorgen had seen her bend the winds to her will, and knew that she could pop his head like a balloon if she chose. Perhaps there is such a thing as honor among the faeries.

Jorgen could but shake his head to clear his thoughts, and watch as the sparrow that was once Caioliss flew away. Kollek looked downcast, fingering something in his beard wistfully.

"Should we go after her?" Jorgen asked, but he immediately knew it would be folly.

"No." Kollek said. "Come. We've a grudge to settle." And he turned to hike through what could barely be called a path up the steep foothills to Khazad Grom.

*****


It was dark when they reached the top of the first peak. From it, Khazad Grom should only have been visible to one who knew exactly where to look. During the day, it may have been so. However, to Jorgen's horror, they looked upon the mountainside to see the light of many bonfires, setting aglow the city from where they stood. Jorgen held his breath, and heard the sound of tribal drums over his own heartbeat. He recognized them; they were Orcs. He had prayed for goblins, for they at least could be reasoned with. Alas, he knew the sound well. This was a mass assembly. These rarely happened, as orc tribes are not known for how they get along. Someone, judging only by the sound, had raised a massive army of orcs. Though the City was a full day's travel away, Jorgen knew this much just from observing: There was an army at Gzomriflt. A formidable army. He voiced this to Kollek, who grunted.

"Sounds like it." he agreed. "We should make our way over, while we've night to hide us." His voice was like stones crumbling. Jorgen rolled his eyes. Kollek, as usual, glanced at the overwhelming odds with the indifference that one glances at a stick over the path. Jorgen often wondered if it was courage or stupidity.

Nonetheless, Jorgen followed him towards the massive fortress, which the two of them alone hoped to breech.

We can do it, Jorgen thought, glancing with a grin at Kolleks massive form, and axe. He patted a tree lovingly, offering a silent prayer that was more of a vow to Obad-Hai. We will do it.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.





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Wed Dec 03, 2014 11:21 pm
r4p17 says...



~Gamleor~

"Sir, are you one one of the priests?" Gamleor asked.

"Aye, I am one of the priests. What do you need, brother?" The man in the white robe asked.

"I need to make sacrifices to Obad-Hai. I have a friend of a friend who is sick. If he doesn't get help from one of your healers then he will die. He has a certain poison, Phlael by name."

"I am sorry. We are going to make our sacrifices in just a few moments. I will gather the other priests and hurry the operation up.

"Thank you very much! I assume that you have horses? I had to leave him behind its my friend. I am afraid that he is too ill to be moved. If he were to be moved the poison would spread through his body quickly. We thought that his chances were better if I rode and fetched you."

"I hope you made the right choice. This is a rare occurrence for the patient not to be brought to us, but we will do our best!"

"Thank you!"

Gamleor hurried dow a corridor along the side of the temple at this point there were many windows lining the hallway so there were no glowing torches. Soon all of the temple's inhabitants were following Gamleor and the priest he met.

Soon they exited the hall and reentered the main hall just in time to see the animals being slaughtered for the the sacrifice.
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Mon Dec 08, 2014 12:53 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Dominic

"What are did you do to hi-her?" Kevin yelled as the party ran down the seemingly neverending tunnel.
"I placed a Nemodoros Levion charm on her," Dominic said, "I will ensure that she stays with us, even if it is in a magical pod."
"I thought you didn't have magic anymore?" Xander asked, enjoyment over every inch of his (or actually Anette's) face.
"I never lost my magic," Dominic shouted, slightly irritated, "It simply went into a slumbering state. It came out of that state when we exitted the Cursed City."
From behind, the howling seemed to be growing in volume every few seconds, and dim torchlight could be seen growing nearer.
"Isn't there a spell to just teleport us to Gzomriflt?" XAnder asked.
"If it were that easy, everyone would be going to Gzomriflt. The Dwarves who live there, all staunch believers in Fazad-Birfl, placed magic protection on their city to ensure that it can't be penetrated with magic; that includes dragon's fire and teleportation."
An arrow suddenly flew passed Dominic's right ear, hitting the ground several feet in front of Sarris.
"Ah! An arrow!" SArris squeeked before starting to run faster.
"Pick up the pace. Come on! If we're within arrow range, they're closer than we think!" DOminic shouted, prodding Kevin with his staff to make him accelerate. He also pointed his staff at Anette's magical pod that was drifting behind them, and then cast the Herlmiras charm on it to make it speed ahead of them.
Just then, a deep voice spoke in Dominic head.
I lost connection with your mind and the Star, Guardian, Istar said.
Yes, my lord, we entered Deela's Realm, as you know Dominic responded.
I trust the Star is safe?
Not yet, my lord. We managed to esape, but now an entire army of Deela's minions are hot on our heels.
There was silence for a few moments before Istar spoke again.
Turn around, he said.
My lord?! Dominic's mental voice sounded both shocked and surprised.
I will delay DEela now, before you enter Fazad-Birfl's Realm.
His Realm?
Yes, Guardian. Just as the Cursed City is Deela's Realm, so too is Gzomriflt FAzad-Birfl's Realm.
But that means...
Yes, the Quill your companions all seek is Fazad-Birfl's object on your planet. That is why it is so powerful.
So I cannot...
Enough of that! Point the Star at your foes and I shall, enlighten, them to the truth.
Dominic turned around to see that he could make out the figures of their chasers, and even make out individual torchflames. He took out the Star and pointed it at them.
The effect was instantaneous. A magnificent blue and white light erupted from the Star, filling every corner of the tunnel. The light started taking the form of hundreds of horses and eagles, all of which started charging the pursuers, scattering them all. The more darker beings, like the shadowsoldiers, evaporated in the light, and the more photo-sensitive beings let out wails of terror and pain.
Now run, Gaurdian, Istar said, Run until you reach Gzomriflt. Fazad-Birfl is not one of the fallen gods, thus he might give you sanctuary. Remember: protect the Star!
***

"Dominic!" Kevin said as the named caught up with them, "I believe we're here."
He pointed at a giant archway, clearly Dwarf-made. On the mantle was a Dwarvish sentence.
"SArris," Dominic said, turning to the Ollemcrat, "what does it say?"
"I can't see," SArris said, "it's too dark."
"Lantas soloine!" Dominic shouted, after which a lantern materialized in his hand.
"Ah, thank you," Sarris said, climbing on Dominic's back for a better view, "I think, I think it says: Those who travel to the sacred city of Gzomriflt, remember that the stone elders and our great patron FAzad-Birfl rule here.. Strange. Who's Fazad-Birfl?"
"A god, my dear friend," Dominic said, setting him down again, "Welcome to Gzomriflt."
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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Mon Dec 08, 2014 12:56 pm
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r4p17 says...



~Gamleor~

Spoiler! :
@JamesHunt could you make a post in which Oqrol buys Renalf from the Ors as soon as possible?


Gamleor led the party of a priest, two guards, and a healer along the path following the landmarks that he had noted in his travel log. From what he remembered and from what his notes said he was nearly at his destination. Just another hour or less. The sun was shining through a little patch of mist ahead creating a hazy look to it. The strange thing about fog was that you could always see from a little ways, but then when you came up close to it you couldn't see it. It because the spirits of fog hated to be around people he knew, but it always made him feel wary. Soon the curtain withdrew and Gamleor could see a number of trees ahead.

The smells of the horses mangled with the damp smell of the forest and the crisp smell of the pines the reached down toward the planes like a host of men holding their spears upward. Gamleor let out a long breath and looked down at his notes to make sure they were heading in the right direction. Any minute now they should come out into a number of fields grouped together and come to the large copse of trees where Renalf and Roco were bivouacked.

All seemed strangely quiet. The horses plodded along docilely without snorting or trying to grab a snack along the way and the birds were chirping softly here and there, but not as much as you would expect.

As they rode on in almost utter silence Gamleor thought he could smell an odor of the unpleasant sort. What was it? His senses instinctively heightened and he constantly looked around. When they came into the field he noticed that some of the plants were trampled carelessly. Who would do that? Gamleor and the entire party seemed to come to a consensus and halt at the same time, just before they came to the edge of one of the fields.

Gamleor dismounted and said, "I am going to go and take a look at a few of the tracks in this field. If they mean that we are in for some trouble then I would rather know from the start before we get into a big mess."

Gamleor went forward into the field. He was surprised to find that all the tracks appeared to be a few days old. It didn't make any sense for a farmer not to visit his field in the period of time that he had been gone. The farmer's house was just beyond a distant knoll that he, Renalf, and Roco had traversed a few days before. The farmer looked to be the only one in the area. Gamleor couldn't help but wonder why the farmer had settled in the land. The soil was fertile enough, but there were goblin raids that swept through the region periodically and there was no one to sell any extra food they raised to for miles around.

As he carefully examined the tracks without disturbing anything Gamleor spotted an alien object he hadn't noticed before. When he examined it he found that it was a belt. A little ways away he found a hood, no less a teal one. Instantly his heart fell. Renalf! There was no mistaking it.

Gamleor dashed back the rest of his party and snatched the reins of his horse and sprang onto him. "There was a party of goblins and probably a few Orcs that passed this way three, perhaps four days ago. They took my friends with them!"

"Friends? You only mentioned one. You never said anything about orc's or Goblins either. What do they want with your friends?"

"I said that the one who needed healing was a friends friend, though he was of course a friend of mine as well. We were traveling together. It is a fact that we did have a grudge with goblins, but we had done nothing to harm them yet. I suppose it was only a chance encounter, albeit an extremely unfortunate and unplanned one!"

"I am afraid we can't help your friend now," the lead pries of the party said, the disappointment clearly showing in his tone. "I wish that I could help you, but my friend and myself are naught but mortal men and so I am afraid that we cannot help you. Besides, we are not fighters. Obad-Hai does not favor those who fight, though he will help those who have been wounded if they seek him out."

"I do not ask you to help me in this respect. All that I ask of you is that you accompany me. I do not ask you to heal me if I am wounded, but I do ask that you come with me. I plan to track down the party of Goblins that took my friends. I am willing to do all that I can. Now, let us delay no longer. We will be able to make better time than the goblins for we have horses and it is evident that they only had a couple in there party. But nonetheless, Goblins are not the kind of people to go slowly. They move swiftly and they do not tire easily. It will take us a good time to catch them up. I suggest that we ride after them day and night for they are already nearly half the way to Gzomriflt which is, I am sure, the way that they are heading. It is now apparent to me that they are setting it up as a base, perhaps it is their main one."

"What? Do you expect us to go all the way to Gzomriflt? It is a good hundred miles. Perhaps a few less, but that is a journey of five days on the back of our horses. Your horses might be able to sustain such a long journey, but ours were not made for speed or for long journeys."

"Please, I desperately need help for my friend. At least send one of your healers along to help him. I am sure that Obad-Hai will understand the necessity!"

"It could be dangerous! Besides, there really ought to be a priest there because that is the way that our god does things. It isn't as simple as you think. If you want to save your friends then you will have to do it yourself. As we said, we can only help the wounded, but if there are any Orcs there the situation is hopeless. You might be able to bribe Goblins, but Orcs, they are ruthless."

"It is not so much strength, but speed that we need. I can devise a plan that is promises success in the extra time along the way, but there isn't a chance that we are going to catch up with them as quickly as possible."

"I think I have a solution," one of the guards said. "Our horses are study and can support the weight of an unarmored man with ease. We will give them to you so that you have some powerful steeds. To carry the priest and the healer!"

"Thank you!" Gamleor exclaimed. I would have raised the point before, but I was afraid that you would be unwilling to halt with the noble beasts. But if you two are to come along," he said gesturing to the priest and the healer, "we better get going quickly. I am ready whenever you are."
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Sun Dec 14, 2014 3:38 pm
BrumalHunter says...



Diánterrus – Dealing with Goblins


After releasing the rat and turning it back into a goblin, Diánterrus made the goblin swear the Oath of Istar, just as he had told his other companions to do, and under the same conditions.

“Good,” Diánterrus said with a smile, “now I have no more reason to return you the jar.”

“Could I see it?” the goblin asked.

“Sure.”

Diánterrus handed the jar to the goblin, who threw then it against a nearby rock and began to smash it even further with a stone. “If I ever have to eat another piece of cheese again,” he said vehemently, “I think I’ll slaughter the cow that had produced the milk and eat it instead.”

“Goblins…” Diánterrus muttered. “I suppose I should introduce you to my companions. The redheaded Wizard over there by the fire is Oqrol the Crimson, and our forest dragonet is Dresdan. You already know who I am.”

“Ugh, another Wizard,” the goblin said as he sat down on one of the logs arranged around the bonfire. “I’d kill you if Mr Ollemcrat here hadn’t made me swear not to.”

“Pleased to meet you as well,” Oqrol retorted and bowed sardonically. “You goblins always have such unpronounceable names; would you mind if I called you Jack?” The goblin shot Oqrol a murderous look. “Alright then, Jack it is.”

“How much farther is your comrades’ camp?” Diánterrus asked, changing the topic.

“If we rise at dawn, we ought to reach it after half a day’s walking.”

“More or less six leagues, then.”

“Why are you so eager to cross the Inmoden?” the goblin asked suspiciously.

“I need to get to Gzomrflt before my quarries do.”

“You do know that the dwarvish ruins of Gzomrflt have been converted into an orc fortress, don’t you?”

“No, I did not know that,” Diánterrus responded, mildly surprised. “However, it is of little consequence to me, since everybody knows goblins and orcs are bosom friends. You and your comrades are to provide us with safe passage there. You are a goblin chieftain, after all.”

“One of several. I can’t simply snap my fingers and order an escort to take you there – the other chieftains have to agree with the idea.”

“I thought you were friends with the chieftain in charge of the garrison at the bridge?”

“I am, but he’s not the only one guarding it. We goblins have our own important affairs, just like every other race, and many of them happen to depend strongly on crossing the Inmoden. As a result, our bridge was fortified. Unlike humans, we take good care of our possessions.”

“As problematic as this sounds, it’s not my problem – it’s yours. You know how the Oath requires you to proceed, and you know the penalty for disobedience. Anyway, I cannot understand why you look so…” Diánterrus tilted his head and regarded the goblin, “miserable. Surely, doing what I ask is better than remaining in a jar as a rat, Jack?”

The goblin considered Diánterrus for a moment before replying. “Very well.” He turned his gaze to the fire, and for the rest of the night, he spoke not another word. When everyone else went to sleep, he simply lay down and did the same.

*


The next morning, the party of four rose at the agreed time and they had indeed walked for half a day before reaching the camp. Then again, “camp” was not at all the appropriate word – when Jack the goblin had said that the camp was fortified, Diánterrus had not expected to encounter a fortress. He stated as much.

“Like I said, we goblins take good care of our possessions.”

Jack grinned, which Diánterrus found disconcerting – goblins weren’t known for their pearly whites. Still, Diánterrus had rolled the dice, and it was up to the goblin to determine the outcome; there was nothing more to be done.

“What will we do if he doesn’t succeed?” Oqrol whispered as Jack led them to the bridge, which turned out to be a drawbridge; it was raised.

“I am sure between you, me and Dresdan, we can make the goblins regret their decision if things should go awry,” Diánterrus whispered back. “If I have Lakadeema’s favour, we may even escape with our lives intact.”

“Then let’s hope you have served your goddess well.”

They fell silent as Jack approached the guards at the riverbank. They conversed in their native tongue for a minute or two before the guards signalled for the drawbridge to be lowered.

“So far, so good…” Oqrol whispered.

“Don’t jinx it!” Diánterrus hissed. He quickly rummaged through his satchel, produced a jar of salt, and threw some over his shoulder. After replacing it, he knelt down and touched the wooden drawbridge. Sighing in relief, he rose and allowed the guards to escort him and his companions into the sinister fortress.

Diánterrus and Oqrol were led to their rooms and Dresdan to a courtyard. Jack left immediately afterwards to speak with his fellow chieftains – or so Diánterrus hoped. From inside of those dark walls, for the stones seemed to be very dark grey granite, they would emerge with an escort to Gzomrflt, or they would not emerge at all.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

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Tue Dec 16, 2014 2:59 am
r4p17 says...



~Gamleor~

Gamleor and his two companions rode their horses near to death for the rest of the day and into the night. They rarely dismounted to break either to eat or to let their horses rest. By nightfall they were in the moors where the ground rose fell like an ocean frozen in time.

The scenery around them was bleak and the sky was dark without the presence of a moon. Instead, the light came in the form of tiny white dots. They seemed like mere specks of dust illuminated and hanging up in the sky, motionless. They used the stars as their heading to base off of so they didn't stay from the path.

The horses brethren could be seen like whips of smoke coming out of a dragons nose. To Gamleor's knowledge it was the first time that it was below freezing. The ground wouldn't freeze, but their might be a frost in the morning. That would make the horses' feet cold, even with their shoes.

As the sun rose above the horizon it illuminated a dense mist which could hardly be pierced from more than twenty or thirty yards away. It cast an eerie aura around them. As they traveled on following the trail of the Goblins and Orcs it became more and more apparent that they were heading to Gzomriflt.

As they rode on Gamleor's thoughts became darker. It seemed the band they were tracking was heading fast and that they would be at Gzomriflt before Gamleor. This unsettled him. Besides, he also had to worry about how he would rescue his friends when he got there.

Gamleor slumped in the saddle. It was a subconscious action. Before he knew it he woke up with a start to find that they had continued another three hundred yards or so. He didn't realize how tired he was. He has only managed to catch a few hours of sleep. They had taken turns sleeping throughout the night. Most people didn't realize that elves were just like humans in most respects. The only difference is their slightly different bodes and their ability to live forever unless they are killed it battle or suffer terrible extreme sorrow causing them to be mortal. Gamleor was just as tired as the rest of the party, except for the horses. They were suffering more than their riders since they were forced to keep awake all night. It was something that Gamleor had not taken into consideration.

When he shook himself out of his slumber Gamleor realized that he wouldn't be able to catch up with the goblins there was just no way! On the other hand he found that he was constantly berating himself to make sure that he would get to Renalf in time to save him.

"Which way do we take here?" the priest asked him. "I have never been on this pat before."

Gamleor raised his head as he realized that they came to a fork in the road. The way was unmarked so he was unsure of where to go. He remembered the grove of oaks from his last wayfaring this way, but he couldn't remember which path took him to Gzomriflt. He pulled out a map, but he didn't see the fork in the path. This was a regional, not a local map. For all he knew there were no maps of the area and if there were then it would take a long time to obtain one. There were few travelers that passed along this way.

"Gamleor!" the priest said sharply. Which path do we take?"

Gamleor frowned, reluctant to admit that he was at a loss as well. "I am trying to remember," he said in a low tone. "I think we take the right one. I recall that it leads us into a valley. The path is littered with pine needles and cones and it gets darker as you go on. I believe it narrows into a ravine, but after that my memory fails me. If it does lead to Gzomriflt then it comes up tout from the south. There is a steep hill to climb.


"The other path continues on the moors. It goes to the north of Gzomriflt, though I am fairly certain that there is is path branching off of it that goes up the eastern slope."

"Which one do you think that we should take?" the priest asked with a wrinkle on his face.

"I am afraid I can't tell. The danger of going into the valley is that we could easily get lost. There are also a number of fierce animals inhabiting the land. I think that there may be wolves and perhaps even some trolls.

"The other way it out in the open country so the weather may be harsher. I am not sure who we may or may not encounter. For all that I know it is perfectly safe, but there might be roving bands of Orcs or Goblins. I think that it will be easier to follow though. It is also much better for the horses because there are no sharp ups and downs. The land sort of rolls up and down. I think it is best if we take the path on the moors, though it is a little bit longer, perhaps."

"Then I will follow your lead! I hope you have chosen the right path."

"So do I," Gamleor said with a sigh.

So, they took the path to the left and rode over the featureless plain. The only distinguishing factor about it was the little tufts in the ground and patches of thistles and other plants that grow in scrub land.
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Thu Jan 01, 2015 4:38 pm
BrumalHunter says...



Diánterrus – The March to Gzomrflt


Sometimes – just sometimes – Diánterrus amazed himself. Being a bounty hunter, many would consider him loyal to none but himself, yet there he was, locked in a goblin cell with the hopes of gaining passage to a goblin or orc fortress, all so he could capture some Ollemcrat scholar and take him to Lakadeema-knows-who. The reward? A few gold coins.

Sure, there was never such a thing as a few gold coins, but there was more to life than just money, and Diánterrus had bags of the stuff hidden away anyway. Then why did he always take on more jobs? Probably because it was the only thing he knew.

How much longer will I have to endure this?

Oh joy. “Firstly, it’s “shall,” and secondly, I never invited you to eavesdrop on my thoughts.”

Liar. You can take me off whenever you want to, yet you don’t. Face it: you need this amulet.

“Lucky for you.”

Do you really like your voice that much?

“The alternative would be as good as giving you permission.”

I can listen to your thoughts all I want, permission or not.

“I prefer my dignity intact nevertheless.”

Haughty creature…

“I am a feline.”

“Shut up, stupid cat!” the goblin outside Diánterrus’ cell yelled. He banged the pommel of his sword against the bars for what Diánterrus supposed was emphasis.

Dolorosis.”

The goblin uttered a shout of pain and clutched his belly. “What you do!” he exclaimed, glaring.

“Nothing.” Diánterrus said innocently. “I’m just a stupid cat, remember?”

The goblin cursed, but if he had wanted to do anything else, he never got the chance; Jack arrived and ordered Diánterrus and Oqrol to be released.

“Took your merry time,” Oqrol muttered, rubbing his wrists.

“You should be grateful that only took a day,” Diánterrus admonished, “it could have been longer.”

Would have been longer,” Jack added. “Fortunately, the orcs have recently requested reinforcements, and delaying the dispatch any further would cause pointless unpleasantries. I am to lead a battalion there. Another chieftain will arrive later with more.”

“And us?” Oqrol asked suspiciously.

“I managed to convince the chieftains that you are master mercenaries I hired to aid me in taking my vengeance.”

“I suppose that’s true to a certain degree,” Diánterrus mused. “When do we leave?”

“Now. Our last stop is the courtyard where your dragonet has been restrained. Come.”

They followed Jack down a series of corridors before stepping out into the sunlight. Diánterrus cringed, but his eyes adjusted quickly enough. Dresdan lay listlessly on the stones, chains on each of his legs, but when he saw Diánterrus, he jumped to his feet.

Had he seen a spark of joy in the dragonet’s eyes?

The goblins beside Dresdan made to restrain him, but Jack waved them off. “The dragonet is my responsibility now; release him.”

The guards did, so Dresdan approached the party, though his manner was more reserved than previously. Those chains would never have been able stop me, just so you know.

“Of course not, though thank you for staying put anyway.”

I reckoned my chances of locating that Wizard was greater with your help.

“Speaking of which, we are finally going to Gzomrflt, and we leave immediately.”

Diánterrus made to turn, but Dresdan halted him. If we are to reach it quickly, there is no way you are walking on those spindly legs.

“They are most certainly not spind–!”

Stop complaining and get on my back.

“And if I refuse?”

Then I suppose I’ll have to carry you again. Diánterrus regarded Dresdan with narrowed eyes. It’s your choice.

“Very well,” Diánterrus answered after a pause, “but if this trip is to be anything like the previous, I’ll cut your wings off.”

Warning acknowledged. Now get on.

*


Goblins could move surprisingly fast, especially when under a forced march. They had departed from the fortress an hour after dawn, and by the time the sun had set and they made camp, the battalion had travelled a distance of thirty leagues.

“How do they move so fast?” Oqrol asked as he, Diánterrus and Dresdan sat around their bonfire. Jack had joined his captains at the fire in the centre of the camp.

“I myself was quite surprised as well,” Diánterrus replied. “It seems they are like wolves in the sense that they can maintain that lope almost indefinitely. I am most grateful for your insistence on carrying me, Dresdan.”

It wasn’t so bad after all, eh?

“I think they only made camp for our benefit,” Oqrol continued, “since they looked like they wanted to continue through the night!” Oqrol had been the most exhausted of them all at the end of the day. He took a swig from the flask at his feet and rested leaned on the tree behind him.

How long do you think it would be before we reach Gzomrflt? Dresdan was about as tired as the goblins, though he had already found and devoured several wild boar since camp had been made.

“At their rate, I would say the day after tomorrow, although you will have to ask Jack to be sure.”

“Two more days?!” Oqrol exclaimed, shooting upright. “Ye gods, have mercy!”

“I suppose you’ll have to get your rest, then,” Diánterrus chuckled.

“I need another drink first.” Oqrol downed the contents of his flask, produced a vial with a dark brown liquid in it, dripped a bit into the flask, and put the vial away again. He muttered an incantation, and suddenly, liquid poured forth from the flask. “Bottoms up!” he said and drank from the flask until the pouring ceased. He stoppered the flask, a satisfied grin on his face.

“You’ve had enough,” Diánterrus declared. “Give it here.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

Reddere.” The flask flew from Oqrol’s hand into Diánterrus’ outstretched palm. “No, but I doubt you will find tomorrow any easier with a hangover.” He dropped the flask into his satchel.

“Wet blanket,” Oqrol murmured.

The next day, however, Oqrol admitted his gratitude once they had been on the move for a couple of hours. He did have a hangover, but it was not nearly as bad as it would have been.

“I told you so,” Diánterrus said smugly.

Well after midday, the battalion suddenly stopped. A scout had appeared and was conferring with Jack (Diánterrus’ trio was at the right side of the formation). After their discussion was finished, Jack dismissed the scout, raised a horn to his lips and blew. After a moment, a horn echoed the call from half a league or so away. Immediately, the goblins loped off in that direction. Within an hour, they stopped at a glade, a troop of assorted goblins and orcs in the centre.

Jack stepped forward and greeted the orc captain, after which a discussion ensued. Diánterrus would have eavesdropped, had they not spoken in their native tongues.

“Do you know what they are saying?” he asked his companions.

“Nope.”

Not a clue.

The discussion continued for several minutes still, and though Diánterrus was at a loss as to the topic, he did hear when the topic changed: Jack and the orc’s tones had become less friendly and more… businesslike. What were they up to? He didn’t have to wait long.

Jack handed a purse to the orc; by the sound of jingling in it, it was payment. The orc disappeared into one of the tents and returned with an old man, dressed in teal robes. He shoved him over to Jack.

“I assume you know this Wizard?” Jack asked.

“My, my…” Oqrol gloated, slowly approaching the other Wizard. “Fancy meeting you here, Renalf.”
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.





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Sun Jan 04, 2015 3:44 am
TheCrimsonLady says...



I drop the glamour as soon as I'm out of sight and slow to a walk.

What do they think of me? And more importantly, do I have two new, and dangerous enemies?

Grasping a rock, I pull myself up, sighing when ancient ruins come into sight. So the spell worked. Thank Isenor. My pack slips off of my shoulder and crashes down. I sigh, and leap down again. I make to go back up when a slip of paper catches my eye.

The wind brings it to me and I unfold it.

Remember what I told you.
~Killian


I wipe the tears from my face and study the not for any other information, but there is none. Killian must have slipped this in here when he gave me back my pack.

Which means that he wanted me to spy on Aodhan. Sighing, I sit down on the rock and take out my scrying glass. The sun is at the horizion. Murmuring the spell, I study it as Aodhan shimmers into view.

A man in a black hood stands across from him. Aodhan's voice is low and urgent. "Do you understand me? Maeve cannot make that... that bastard-born, half-breed mortal the queen of faerie. She needs to die." He strides across to the window. "I thought I took care of that when I convinced the changeling that I loved her."

I expect some sort of feeling to course through me, but all I feel is a mild dislike. No hate, or betrayal.

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I whirl around, staff at the ready. I relax when I realise that it is only Killian.

"Killian, sit." I gesture to the overhang and sit beside him after letting the image in the glass go, legs hanging off of the rocks.

"Lish. You were spying on Aodhan." He gestures to the now-empty mirror.

"I got your message. Why're you here?"

"I'm here with a message." My muscles tense with anticipation. I take a sip of water from my drinking horn to calm myself.

"You have to complete your assignment as soon as they find the Quill."

I choke on the water and start coughing. When I catch my breath again, Killian avoids my gaze.

"Why?"

"She needs it by then." He looks around. "She's creating some sort of spell, to make herself even more powerful. I think that if she doesn't get the Quill as soon as possible, something terrible will happen to her."

"How do you know this?"

"Not the point. I have my sources." He pauses. "Cai, I think that if you don't do as she asks, she'll come down here herself to make you do what she asks."

I laugh bitterly. "No chance of that. She made me her heir."

This time, it's he who chokes. "She did what?!"

"I know. Killian, what happens if I don't complete the... task?"

"Well, you won't die. You're no longer truth bound. But... Cai, I think you go mad."

"Mad?"

"Well, I think it's gradual. The longer you hold out... the worse you get. Eventually, I think you go off the hook completely and then complete the task."

I wince. "Well, that's what's going to happen to me whenever Kollek finds his precious quill."

"I'm sorry, Cai."

"I don't even want to be queen. Even not thinking about the politics, which I hate, I don't want to have Maeve's powers. She took away her humanity. I don't want mine to go, too."

He shudders. "I wouldn't want to either."

I lay my head on his shoulder. "Can't fix it now."

He sighs, and fidgets with his sheath. "I have to be going, or Her Majesty will miss me."

I stand up. "Killian, id you know Aodhan was plotting to kill me? He knows I'm the heir."

He frowns. "I didn't. But let's worry about that when you're in the same realm as him." He disappears, and I sit back down, waiting for my victims. Or my saviours.

Why is it always waiting? I have no patience.
Let the blood pour down in rivers as the world burns.








“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents!”
— Little Women