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Classic-Castle Roleplay: January

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Postby Formendacil » Wed Jan 19, 2005 4:08 am

Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell Keep, preparing for departure

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Bjarn turned and counted out loud, "That makes...five, six, seven, eight...eight persons, for Shainya is going as well. Very good, our fellowship has been formed. Thank you, again."

Bjarn gave the Sign of the Elk and departed, as did everyone else.


Sir Dractor was back in his old haunt, the armoury. His armour, battered, bent, and pretty much wrecked in general during the Seige of Orion, had long since been repaired by the capable Rodurik.

"I'm still amazed that you were able to do anything with it," said Sir Dractor to the smith, as he donned the armour for the first time in months. It was slightly snugger around the waist than Sir Dractor remembered.

"It was just a matter of hammering out dents, and bending back folds," said Rodurik. "That done, it was remarkablely undamaged. I just had to re-temper it a bit, smooth over some of the worse spots on the edges, and polish it."

"All the same, its amazing from my point of view," said Sir Dractor, turning to leave. "And you have my thanks."

"It was a pleasure to be of assistance to one of Dametreos' great heroes," said Rodurik. "And it was a fine piece of craftsmanship to begin with. I am pleased to have had a part in restoring it to usefullness."

Sir Dractor nodded. Then he picked up his new shield (courtesy again of Rodurik. His old one had been totally destroyed in battle), and strapped on his greatsword, and departed the armoury.

He was walking down the halls when he met Shainya, coming out of another corner of the armoury. Her sword hung at her side.

"Do you still remember how to use that?" asked Sir Dractor.

"Not really," said Shainya, guiltily. "But I think it would come back with practice."

"Then you had better get some practise before we leave," said Sir Dractor. "There's very little doubt that you'll need it on this quest."

"It does look that way," said Shainya, somewhat sadly. "It's a pity, really, that it has to be like that." Shainya puased, and then changed the subject, becoming somewhat more cheerful.

"You know, I had the strangest thought," she said, "when Bjarn was saying that we eight had formed a fellowship. It almost didn't seem right. It was as if we were one short or something." Shainya laughed, and Sir Dractor with her.

"If this fellowship is like any that I have known or heard of," said the warrior. "It will be most unlikely indeed if we do not acquire companions, lose companions, and divide into smaller companies well before we reach our goal. Besides which, I am almost of the opinion that we have too many people already, although I cannot honestly say who I would leave out."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Shainya with a smile. "If it was left up to you, neither I nor Luxus would be going. You don't really think we'll be much use."

"You're wrong," said Sir Dractor with a shake of his head. "Although I would not take either of you along on a perilous journey if it were left up to me, I agree with Bjarn that Luxus must come along, for reasons as yet left vague. As for you, I am in a bit of disagreement with him, in that I think you MUST come. Somehow, you are tied up in this as well. I don't believe in fate, but I do believe that your presence will be invaluable on this quest, and I have a feeling, unfounded, that you are somehow tied up in this, if only by your love for Reno."

"Now I'm getting a little scared," said Shainya. "I, personally, don't think I'll be a huge help. I just don't want to risk letting Reno out of my sight again. And I DO want to be as much a help as I can."

"Then you should get practising with that sword," said Sir Dractor with a smile. "I've already said that you could be great with it if you applied yourself. But I would get onto practising soon. Bjarn wants to leave quickly, and get this done, although I do not know where he intends to go, and there will be little enough time, I fear, once we are actually on the road."

"I'll go ask Reno right away if he'll spar with me," said Shainya. Sir Dractor smiled, but shook his head.

"I don't advise practising with Master Regga," he said. "You're a bit too devoted to him. You need to practise against someone that has no emotional hold on you. Someone that you neither want to impress overmuch, or someone that you want to let win."

"You?"

"Not I," said Sir Dractor. "I might overwhelm you. It has been too long since I fought, that I might not be able to hold myself back. Try the guardsmen. Or..." he said with a cunning smile, "Radjar Kath. That man has skill. And idle time. And.... I think it might be within your skill, once you get going, to deal him a defeat. But time will tell on that score."

Sir Dractor headed off, leaving Shainya to think over his suggestions. It was apparent, that while Sir Dractor bore Radjar Kath no ill will, he didn't mind upsetting his pride, just a little.
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Postby lemon_squeezer2 » Wed Jan 19, 2005 4:08 am

Grid D-8
Location: At Sea

Girard scanned the horizon again. The night watch had just ended and the deck was filled with sailors going to and away from their stations. His vessel was a ship of war, deployed for the purpose of escorting the troop carriers. Unlike most other warships, the Deleos was formed in the manner of a galley instead of a trading cog, with a long keel and narrow breadth, allowing it to cut through the water like a hot knife through butter. The design was a new one and unproven, but the tests that were carried out the previous summer showed it to be nearly flawless. She had proven her worth during the blockade of the Legoland islands, intercepting nearly every vassal that was espied, overtaking them with astonishing speed.

But now was not the time to contemplate past events. The wind was picking up, and blue-green waves, nearly four feet tall now lashed at this sides of the vessel. Girard made his way amidships and called for the officer of that watch. Both saluted and Girard began to speak.
“We seem to have run into a patch of bad weather. Signal to the other ships to break off. We cannot afford to have any collisions. Keep the sails set as they are though.”
Nodding the man saluted again and turned smartly and in turn called to another man, repeating the Admiral’s orders. Two minutes later, a sailor stood on the edge of the deck, close to the gunwale signaling with flags to the other parts of the fleet.

By that time the wind had picked up even more and the masts groaned under the extra pressure. Fine particles of snow began to fall, filling in cracks and grooves and swirling in small eddies on the deck. To Girard, this was nearly perfect sailing weather. For what was a bit of snow?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grid: G-8 through G-9

On the newly formed Royal Knight/Falcon border, fresh troops hunkered down in their newly constructed forts. The shelters were hurriedly set up, but laid out with military precision. Most of the men still were in tents while log cabins were being still set up. Nearly a dozen of these temporary encampments had been set up and each contained roughly 500 men each.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grid: F-7
Location: Falconis City


Martin sat in his small office, carefully sipping some of the tea that was imported from the Legolander islands. Such luxuries were expensive now as the ports were now freezing up again and the cold attitude many Legolanders had towards Falcon traders.

The Falcon army had been mobilized again – this time at normal troop quotas. Martin however was not called to lead them though, despite being perhaps the most experienced general in the army. This did not surprise him though, Durlass undoubtedly did not want him to make his figure more popular than he already was. Looking over the present circumstances though, it worked beautifully in a truly ironic way. Martin found himself wanting a stalemate in the current situation. It would only magnify Durlass’s incompetence in such matters and when the time was ripe, he would push himself forward.
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Postby Commander Redbeard » Wed Jan 19, 2005 6:07 pm

Location: Drullen Bell Keep, Preparing to leave

Anardan was glad that he was chosen for the quest. He could not go out in the snowstorm to get his own gear and settle the affairs with his Forestmen command, but he arranged for a messanger to be sent to his outpost during the next lull, to tell his Forestmen where he was.

The armorors and suppliers of Drullen Bell Keep were more than willing to outfit him with any gear he needed for the journey. Back in the chamber he slept in, he laid out his supplies on the low table. A chainmail shirt and triangular shield bearing the crest of the Forestmen had been given to him at the Armory. He would have preferred his own armour, but what of it he still had was back in his chamber at the outpost. He had brought his sword with him when he rode into the Keep, and of that he was glad. He could not imagine using any other weapon. He dug in his saddle-bag and pulled out a green wool tunic, and he pulled it on over the chainmail. He had let one suit rust before, and he didn't intend to do it again. His belt was old and worn, but it served its purpose, and he liked it. His sword was the standard Forestman affair, a medium-length steel blade with tapered edges and a black pommel. He slid it back into its scabbard and hung it from the belt, thinking.

There may be some things on this journey that the likes of you will offer no defence against.

He pulled his travel-worn brown cloak over his shoulders, picked up his haversack and sleeping roll, and shut the door behind him as he left the room.

In one of the lower halls, he met Reno lugging several sacks of travelling food. Anardan offered to help, and took one.

"These are for the trip?"

Reno shifted the position of one of the sacks on his shoulder, then said;

"Yep. Heavy food t' keep you warm. Literally heavy."

He grunted and shifted a sack again.

Heavy now; Anardan mused, But i'm sure we'll wish them this heavy again before we find the Temple of Stars.
Sitting in a midnight glade
Firelight dancing off burnished blade
A Forestman sits
Wondering about the next day
But after three mugs of ale
Let it bring what it may.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Wed Jan 19, 2005 8:17 pm

Formendacil wrote:Sir Dractor headed off, leaving Shainya to think over his suggestions. It was apparent, that while Sir Dractor bore Radjar Kath no ill will, he didn't mind upsetting his pride, just a little.


Dractor soon ran into Bjarn, who was trying on different types of cold weather clothing. The Forestmen leader seemed to have settled for a large woolly brown cloak, think tan pantaloons, three layers of the same type of tunic, padded deerhide gloves, and to top it off, a large floppy hat that looked like a cross between a bonnet and the type of brim helmets that Western Knights Kingdomers wore.*

Seeing Sir Dractor's raised eyebrows, Bjarn said, "I may look like a fool, but I'm warm as megablocks...in fact...too warm...I need to take this lot off before I cook."

"Can you even draw a sword with all those layers?" smirked Sir Dractor.

Bjarn seemed to turn away, but suddenly Bjarn's old and beaten saber was drawn and clanged against the knight's upraised broadsword. Bjarn grinned and resheathed his saber.

"I may not be as fast as some outlanders, but this old body still has some life in it."

He turned and eyed Sir Dractor's suit of armor.

"You surely are going to change into something else?"

"Why? I never battle without my armor."

"Have you ever tried trudging through snow in seventy pounds of metal?"

Sir Dractor laughed. "Bjarn, before I sailed south to Dametreos, I had to deal with snow almost as bad as this every winter. I am well prepared for the struggle ahead."


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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Wed Jan 19, 2005 9:45 pm

"Have you ever tried trudging through snow in seventy pounds of metal?"

Sir Dractor laughed. "Bjarn, before I sailed south to Dametreos, I had to deal with snow almost as bad as this every winter. I am well prepared for the struggle ahead."



Walking down to the Great Hall, they met Reno and Captain Anardan loading foodstuffs onto a sled.

"Where did you get that sled, Captain?" queried Bjarn, removing his headgear and fanning himself with it.

"I built it myself, sir." explained Anardan, "It's light enough to be pulled by two or three men, but study enough to carry a large amount of supplies."

"Good work, Captain. I certainly didn't look forward to carrying all mu food on my back." Bjarn complimented.

"Thank you, sir."

As Dractor stepped forward to help with an especially cumbersome bundle, Bjarn asked Reno, "Any progress on the Temple?"

"Absolutely none." Reno snorted, "There wasn't a hint of it's location in the Forestdweller Archives."

"Well...Daner will help us when the time is right." replied Bjarn simply.

"Sir, then where will we head?" asked Anardan, "It is not wise to head into a snowstorm unprepared and with a destination."

"We should head to the Yellow Castle." replied Bjarn, "Dametreos' most anchient and magical archives are stored there. If they didn't hold any information, nothing would."

Sir Dractor groaned comically. "Just when I had seen that great block of yellow bricks for the last time..."

Luxus and Aros approached, laughing. Both of them were bundled up, but Luxus looked like an overstuffed chicken with his five layers and two scarves.

"Now that Aros is my bruther 'e worries 'bout me too much!" complained Luxus.

Aros merely chuckled.

The six of them continued to pack the sled until Anardan said, "That's enough. Anymore and she'll stick in the drifts. Even now it looks like it will take four men to haul her."

"A pity this blasted snow messes up my control of the Mana." murmered Voolmark who had just joined them, also wrapped up, "I could make the whole load feather light."

"Then it would blow away in the gales." smiled Bjarn.

He paused, then said, "Where's Shainya? We're about ready to go..."

"I think she's sparring with Radjar." replied Sir Dractor.

Reno, Aros and Bjarn raised their eyebrows.

Just then Shainya entered, glowing happily, her short sword in her sheath. Behind her, Radjar trailed, along with an amused Rosa and stoic Gonderin.

"Shainya kicked the megablocks out of Radjar." giggled Rosa, "He was trying to be soft and gentle, but Shainya wouldn't let him!"

Radjar went red.

"I think he also was trying to impress me." confided Rosa, giggling even more.

Radjar harrumphed and approahed Bjarn.

"Lord Bjarn of the Forestmen," he said formally, "I wish you success on you mission, for all of us."

"Thank you, King Radjar Kath of the Dark Forest. You are welcome to stay in Drullen Bell Keep as long as needed until Hemlock can be rebuilt."

Gonderin approached and nodded respectfully.

"I will see to everything, my Lord." he said crisply, "I do not believe in luck, but many others do, so I give it to you nonetheless."

"Thank you, Gonderin."

Bjarn looked around at Reno and Aros, with the Twin Pendants firmly secured around their neck's, Luxus, wide-eye with eagerness, Shainya, standing next to Reno with her arm slipped within his, Sir Dractor, head to foot in metal and looking ready for everything, Captain Anardan, his hand on the sled checking the ropes, and Voolmark, his white staff gleaming and cloak tucked warmly around him.

"All right, let's get going." ordered Bjarn, "The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back."

Rosa and Radjar pulling open the great oak doors, allowing the fellowship out and the cold winter air in. Quickly Sir Dractor, Captain Anardan, Reno and Aros grabbed ropes tied to the sled and began pulling it through the slushy snow while Bjarn and Voolmark pushed forward and Shainya and Luxus trailed behind, slipping the ruts dug by the sled.

As the door shut, Radjar murmured, "I swear, Bjarn was always raking at me about my wandering abroad, but now he turns around and does it himself."

"He's doing it for the good of his kingdom, and of Dametreos...you only wanted to go kill people..." Rosa replied smoothly, latching the door.

Radjar was about to errupt when Rosa slipped her arm into his and said, "I'm kidding, you buffoon. Besides...this storm isn't too bad...it gives us time to be together..."
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Postby Formendacil » Thu Jan 20, 2005 7:24 pm

Grid: E-10
Location: Port Jozef

Formendacil wrote:Several days later, they were reaching Port Jozef.

"Keep an eye on your backs," warned Elbadar. "This town's not as safe as it once was."


There was no denying that Port Jozef was a pretty lawless town. It was wild, and its people were furtive, and there was chaos everywhere. Quorandis had them start their search for Jayko and Elwen by visiting the more reputable inns, places that they might have stayed in the city.

"A blueish-armoured Rainbower?" asked one innkeeper. "With a lady wearing a crown?"

"Yes," said Quorandis. "They would have been somewhat ragged-looking, I think."

"I think I remember 'em," said the innkeeper, after some thought. "They was staying over in the Fifth Quarter, leastaways until them slavers came."

"Slavers?"

"Aye, they've a-been plaguing the city since the Falcons invaded, and the King had to flee. No one dares stop 'em, cause they've got the Merchant's Guild on their side. Anyways, they came and raided that there inn your friends was staying at, and took the lady. The Rainbower was seen chasing down to the ships, after 'em. Idiot! He hasn't been seen since."

Quorandis thanked the innkeeper, and turned to Elbadar and Gib.

"You know what this means?" he said.

"They've been taken to Anka Dolour," said Elbadar. "Or Elwen has, anyway. The Rainbow knight might be dead."

"What do we do now?" asked Gib.

"We have to go to Anka Dolour," replied Quorandis.

"In this weather?" asked Gib.

"And we might not get there until way too late," replied Elbadar. "They left ages ago, and they might not have made it there themselves. It'll probably be too late to save Elwen, you know."

"I am going to Anka Dolour," replied Quorandis coldly. "I will find Elwen if it takes me until my dying breath. If all that I can upon finding her is avenge her, so be it. If her spirit is broken and she is no longer the woman I knew, so be it. But I will not rest until I have found her."

"All right! All right!" said Elbadar, putting up his hands placatingly. "I was just making sure you were aware that our chances of success are almost nil."

"Excuse me," said a voice behind Elbadar. They all whirled around, hands on their blades, to see a face that Elbadar found vaguely familiar. It was an old, one-eyed, samurai vagabond, dressed in red and black, with a katana hanging loosely at his side.

"I couldn't help hearing that you were hoping to go to Anka Dolour. Perhaps I could be of assistance."
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Postby Green Fox » Fri Jan 21, 2005 7:02 pm

M-8

Drullen Bell Keep

"Blasted weather..."

Green Fox sneezed. He then launched into a fit of coughing and collapsed on the wooden bed in his quarters. The last few months had been a blur of drink and sneezing. After the depleted armies returned to the keep, he kept himself to himself. His quarters in the keep were as far from everyone else's as possible, and he could go days without seeing anyone else. The forestmen knew to keep out of his way, and J'anrya didn't visit. His quarters had an amply-stocked ale cuboard when he arrived, he thought with a pang of sadness as he glanced at the empty cupboard and the empty bottles strewn around the room.

He had managed to pass the time by trying to write a book about his "exploits". This project was doomed from the start, as he hadn't written anything in a long time, and the last thing he remembered writing was an essay when he was at the local academy....

The cold came as a complete surprise. He had woken up one morning to find his remaining bottles frozen over. As he pulled back his grimy curtains and opened his single window to look around outside, he promptly caught a cold. He considered looking for Jack, to see if he had a medicine of some sort, but he decided against it. He really was confused as to what people thought of him.

When the last bottle ran out, he decided that now was the time to venture back to civilization. Throwing on a heavy coat he had found and the scarf he was in the process of knitting over his dirty and bloodstained Forestman's garb, he opened the door and headed towards the wine cellar.

There was a lot of commotion in the halls. The corridors were wet from the snow on people's boots, and sleds being dragged around were not uncommon. There also appeared to be a definite talking point, and Fox picked up mentions of Bjarn and a quest of some sort, but his sneeze made it hard to eavesdrop. This "quest" intriuged him, however, and he endeavoured to find out more.
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Postby Formendacil » Fri Jan 21, 2005 11:45 pm

Grid: E-10
Location: Port Jozef

Formendacil wrote:"Excuse me," said a voice behind Elbadar. They all whirled around, hands on their blades, to see a face that Elbadar found vaguely familiar. It was an old, one-eyed, samurai vagabond, dressed in red and black, with a katana hanging loosely at his side.

"I couldn't help hearing that you were hoping to go to Anka Dolour. Perhaps I could be of assistance."


"Do I know you?" asked Elbadar.

"Maybe, good sir," replied the samurai. "I am a famous man. Kendo is my name. Kendo, pirate-shogun of the Dragon Straits. I once commanded a thousand-man armada."

"Once commanded?" queried Quorandis. Kendo's face went black.

"I made the mistake of tackling the wrong enemy several months ago," replied the samurai. "It was a Crusader vessel, with a battalion of Dragon Masters. I would have had them too, had they not been led by a vile sorceror."

Elbadar's hands started to fidget guiltily behind his back.

"Dragon Masters and Crusaders together?" said Quorandis, raising an eyebrow. "What a peculiar tale. And this before BloodVaine became a problem as well."

"Well, in any case, my fleet was wrecked," said Kendo. "I have been rebuilding it as best I may since, but I have only one junk, and a crew of forty."

"A respectable crew, all the same," said Quorandis, fully aware of the fact that he was calling a pirate crew "respectable". "Now, you were saying that you could help us get to Anka Dolour?"

"Yes, good sirs," said Kendo. "My next stop is the slaver haven, and passengers willing to pay their way would not hurt my pocket, and I have room for them aboard. A mutually advantageous deal, no?"

"You heard then why we are making for Anka Dolour?" said Gib.

"Something about a lost maiden, and the recently-departed Yuri Firetresses," said Kendo. "Have no fear, crossing Firetresses does not faze me. There was a time when he would not have dared cross ME."

"You know his name then?" said Quorandis.

"Aye, there can be no doubting it is Firetresses you are talking about. He sailed from here but two weeks ago with those you are seeking."

"Then he'll be in Anka Dolour by now," said Elbadar, mentally calculating.

"No, good sir, he will not," replied Kendo with a knowing grin. "Firetresses sailed northwards, going around the continent. He will be meeting the great storm and will be much delayed. If we leave now, we can beat him to Anka Dolour."

"Why would he go north?" asked Quorandis, "that's the long way."

"For many reasons," replied Kendo. "First of all, for many years, I have made Firetresses fear the Dragon Straits, for they were my domain. Thus, Firetresses is in the habit of going north. Secondly, there are many unguarded villages in the north that he might try to raid. It is generally easier to take captives in the north than the south, for some reason. Thirdly-" and here Kendo scoffed "-Yuri Firetresses is a very poor man when it comes to reading the weather. He did not see this storm coming.

"But to business," said Kendo, diverting his talk to the main matter. "Will you sail with me?"

"Let us talk," said Quorandis. "Alone."

"Certainly, good sirs."
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Postby The Green Knight » Sat Jan 22, 2005 2:24 am

Grid: E-10
Location: Port Jozef

Formendacil wrote:"But to business," said Kendo, diverting his talk to the main matter. "Will you sail with me?"

"Let us talk," said Quorandis. "Alone."

"Certainly, good sirs."


The pirate-samurai led the way down to the wharf and onto a scow of oriental design. Once inside the cabin, he quickly turned to business.

“Now,” he began, but Elbadar interrupted.

“Wait a moment! Where's Gib?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A solitary figure, lurched slowly away from the docks of Port Josef, leaning on a makeshift crutch and muttering to himself as he went. His hood was drawn about his face, disguising what appeared to be some un-natural growth springing from the side of his head.

A lean wolf stalked beside his master, eyes piercing every nearby hollow and alley.

Under his hood Gib was taking council with the hawk on his shoulder.

“No! I can't go with them. I'd never find Grizzle if I left now.”

“What's that? Worried? No, I'm not worried, Griffin, I'm just... I'm just thinking."

Griffin had been near death when Gib discovered him in Jackal's mouth, during the blizzard. But after a day of rest and warmth, Griffin was as good- well, almost good -as new.

"Grizzle could be anywhere in this country.” Gib continued. “Or even in Falcon land. Who knows, maybe he's dead. Oh who am I kidding! I am worried, Griffin. Worried and afraid. I'm worried that we won't find Grizzle and afraid that I won't be able to survive outside the Neverwood.

"What is a king without his Kingdom? What is a hermit without his wood? The Neverwood is all I've ever known. My identity in many ways.

"I wish I was like you, Griffin. You've probably flown over every inch of Dametreos. You know, a couple of months ago didn't have even the slightest clue about the outside world. Even now... Now that I've been to Orion and the land of the Fright Knights... Now that I've seen the cities of both Dragon Masters and Royal Knights and flown through the skies on Lord Void's airship... Even now, I still feel ignorant and out of place.”

Jackal nuzzled his master's cloak in a move of encouragement. Gib smiled. “Oh I am a fool! Of course we'll be alright. With friends like you two, how could a fellow ever help but survive.”

The hermit paused for a moment, thinking about the past few days. “Then again... I wouldn't be in such good health now, if it weren't for Bernard and Elbadar. I suppose I must go back. Even if only to say goodbye. I owe them that at least.”
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...





Ok, enough of that!
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Sat Jan 22, 2005 3:13 am

Grid: M-8
Location: on the Forestmen/Crusader border

From the begining, the troupe of eight persons knew it would be a battle to travel...they would soon learn it would be a battle simply to stay together and survive.

Within ten minutes (or as well as any of them could figure), they were hopelessly lost. When the Delvarden Gard swamps and the surrounding forest had been regrown by the earth mage Bourne, all the Forestmen trails and other landmarks had not regrown. It would take the Forestmen many years to reclaim the reborn woods. However, even if there had been a trail, they probably would have never found it, or passed it, or traveled over it, due to the heavy amount of snow.

The thick trees did little to keep the ground clear of the white mass, for the snow simply didn't fall from the sky, it drove from every direction, clogging every single concievable place. Worse yet, it was a thick, sticky snow that didn't settle and stuck to anything and everything, especially the sled.

The trail blazers, Bjarn and Voolmark, had the hardest job of all, for it was up to them to trample down the soaking fluff so that the sled could pass. This involved stepping forward one and a half feet, sinking up to one's knees in snow, then backtracking so the snow pounded down further. Then repeat, again, again, and again. Soon both of the Forestmen's legs were like lead and were sore and soaked. Voolmark had given up on tapping into the Mana and was using sheer manpower when suddenly he cried, "Ah!"

Bjarn halted and turned to his former mentor.

"Voolmark, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just fine..." mumbled Voolmark, fumbling with the strap that tied his staff to his back, "Move aside Bjarn..."

Confounded, Bjarn did so. Voolmark gripped his staff, then plunged the white staff into the snow, the green gem sinking though the snow and a few inches into the mud beneath.

"Voolmark, what-?"

"Shush!"

Now the whole troupe a had ground to a stop. Voolmark ignored the questioning murmurs and concentrated on the deeply wedged staff, his eyes narrowed. Suddenly there was a flash of fire, and the staff was blown upward from the ground, splattering Bjarn and Voolmark with mud.

Spitting out grit, Voolmark beamed, looked at the large flame now licking the top of his staff.

"What did you do?" gasped Bjarn.

"Mana isn't the only magic out there, Bjarn." explained Voolmark, "Mana is a mostly man-made magic, controled by spoken spells, charms and jinxes. I just tapped into Earth Magic, an anchient magic that governs the natural flows of Dametreos and beyond. This is the magic of goblins and dwarves."

Bjarn nodded in understanding. Bourne the earth mage not only was well versed in the the flow of the Mana, he had a firm grip on Earth Magic.

"You've got more tricks hidden up your sleeve than ever." smiled Bjarn, "A pity you didn't think of it sooner."

"Aye," murmured Voolmark, edging forward. "But I'm only an amatuer with Earth Magic, unlike Daner Pluto. This flame is about all I can congure up."

As Voolmark spoke, the flame buring from his staff started licking away at the piles of snow. The barrier began to give way to a heat that seemed to intence to come from such a tiny source. Slowly, the eight persons move on.
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Postby forester3291 » Sat Jan 22, 2005 4:55 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:As Voolmark spoke, the flame buring from his staff started licking away at the piles of snow. The barrier began to give way to a heat that seemed to intence to come from such a tiny source. Slowly, the eight persons move on.



Grid: M-8

Location: Forestmen/
Crusader Border.

After Voolmark had made the task of clearing the way for the sled much, much easier. That’s when Dractor came up beside the Forestman Leader and told him that he could lead up front for a bit. Bjarn accepted the invitation and dropped back. Sir Dractor then struck up idle conversation with Voolmark.

“So you used to be Bjarn’s History teacher, ehh?”

“Yes. He was much different then.” Voolmark smiled, rembering those days in the past. “He was a mischievous young runt then. He used to try and play pranks on me you know.”

“Not the stern and grim Bjarn?” Sir Dractor said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes, he once mixed up all my documents and maps. They had been organized in alphabetical order. But he learned his lesson he did. He stayed two hours extra each day of school for a week just so he could re-organize them.” Said Voolmark with a chuckle.

“So what about you?” Said Voolmark. “Why DID you come to Dametreos?”

“To help an old man, much like yourself.” Said Dractor. “He is a wizard, a very powerful one too. We came to gather something from somewhere. But let’s focus on the future huh? It’s getting rather dark and we should probably set up camp, that is if we can get a fire started.”

“Why, of course we can.” Voolmark said, pointing to his staff witch still glowed brightly.

“Ahhh…. Yes” Said Sir Dractor, smiling with delight.


Sir Dractor dropped back with the others and told them that Voolmark advised them to stop. Bjarn agreed and the stopped for the night.


Sir Dractor dropped back with the others and told them that Voolmark advised them to stop. Bjarn agreed and the stopped for the night. The company was in fairly high spirits considering the conditions and everyone ate the meal Shainya had prepared for them with some laughs and jokes.
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Postby The Green Knight » Tue Jan 25, 2005 4:03 am

"Well, come on Alex." said Logen. "We'd better get you back to the inn."

"Wait!" said Walf, suddenly. "I forgot about Dale."


It was late in the morning when Walf woke up. “Why am I so tired? Oh yeah.” They had been out all night, searching by lantern light for Dale. No luck. Soon Alex began to stir as well. He moaned as he sat up in bed, evidently still coping with the grog he'd ingested yesterday and the resulting hangover.

“Well it's about time you two got up.” said Jos from his seat by the window.

“Where's Logen?” Walf asked.

“He's out looking for Dale again. I hope he comes back soon though. Looks like the snows picking up.”

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Long after the two Dragon Master bodies had stiffened and cooled, after dark fell, after the sun rose again and an unlucky guard had tried over Grub's head, the posessed sword hadn't moved.


It was dark inside the sword. Encased in rotting flesh and frozen blood with snow gathering on the hilt and Jack Frost painting his craft on all of the blade that hadn't been tarnished by the blood of the Dragon Master. It was dim and secluded. And in the darkest recesses of that cold, dead place, sat Dale, huddled in the dimness with his arms about his legs. The man was gripped in horror. Horror at what he had done and horror relived in the memories of his own death. Had he done the right thing? Did it even matter?

The morning was getting on and still the sword remained stationary. How long it would have remained that way, if left undisturbed, I cannot say. But something was about to change all that.

Suddenly Dale realized that something felt different. The feeling had been growing on him for some time but he hadn't realized it till that moment.

Looking up, Dale noticed another figure hunched over, not twelve feet away in the sword. Dale stood but remained silent, still unsure of what he was seeing. Slowly the figure stood.

“Where-- Where am I?” It was Brugs. The dragon master was on his feet now, staring at Dale and looking very much awake. “What happened to me?”

“No!” Dale stammered, backing away. “It can't be... I killed you.”

“You what?” said Brugs, striding over. “What do you mean, you killed me?” The Dragon master had Dale by his shirt collar. “Who are you? Where-- where am I?” How do I get out of here?”

Brugs only had to think of leaving and his wish was granted. Dale followed him outside the sword, still trying to process what was happening. The alley was deserted again and no one was there to see the two ghosts or the two corpses.

“I'm... I'm dead.” said Brugs, standing over his stiffened body, Reno's sword in hand. “This sword, you were inside it!”

Dale gulped.

“Of course! You were the one who killed me!” An iron fist landed a blow to Dale's jaw. It hurt. Boy did it hurt, and yet... somehow it felt good. As Dale hit the newly fallen snow in the alleyway, he found that he was bleeding. Strangely it tasted sweet. Somehow Dale felt more alive then he had in a long while.

When was the last time he had tasted anything? He hadn't felt pain since... Well, since the moment Majisto decided to skewer him on Reno's sword.

Majisto... “Of course!” Thought Dale. This sword has been cursed ever since that Wizard got his hands on it. That's why the Dragon Master was in there with me!”

Looking over, Dale saw the man, knelt by the body of his fallen comrade.

“I'm sorry Grubs. I didn't know. Now...” he said, rising and turning to Dale. I'm gonna tear you in half.”

Dale was frightened for about one second before he realized... “Ha! Go ahead and try! I'm already dead!”

“The Dragon Master paused, a look of bewilderment on his face. Dale knew the feeling. Being dead was like being in a whole new universe. One with a completely different set of rules.

“I- I'm not sure how things work anymore.” Brugs continued, a scowl on his face. “But when I figure it out I'm going to bring you down! I swear it!”

Just then there was a noise of approaching footsteps. Brugs grabbed Dale's hand and plunged back into the sword, dragging Dale with him. The two spirits watched as a man rounded the corner. It was Logen. Dale wanted to hail his friend but Brugs was too fast and Dale soon found the man's hand clamped tight over his mouth.

“Quiet now, mister. Let's just see how this plays out...”
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...





Ok, enough of that!
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Tue Jan 25, 2005 6:10 am

forester3291 wrote:Sir Dractor dropped back with the others and told them that Voolmark advised them to stop. Bjarn agreed and the stopped for the night. The company was in fairly high spirits considering the conditions and everyone ate the meal Shainya had prepared for them with some laughs and jokes.


L-9

The next day everyone started out in much better spirits. The wind had died down to a mere breeze and the snow stopped falling. With the blusters gone, going was much easier and some places the sled could be pushed on top of some packed instead of through it.

They were all now out of the woods and many miles into Crusader territory, and Shainya and Reno had taken the lead to forge ahead, occationally sneaking care-free pecks when they thought no one was looking. Bjarn, Aros, Sir Dractor and Anardan were pulling the sled and Luxus and Voolmark were taking turns tossing snow balls at one another.

Luxus giggled and scooped up a wad of snow, ducking a projectile tossed by the less agile Voolmark.

"You can't hit me!" teased Luxus, as hit launched his clump. It bare glanced Voolmark's shoulder.

"I'll get you yet, you little tyke!" chortled Voolmark, his robes swishing as he bent down.

The sled-pullers turned backwards just in time to see Voolmark get creamed with a faceful of snow. Bjarn chuckled, and Sir Dractor called, "Nice aim, Luxus!"

Voolmarked wiped the snow off and was about to say something when a scream pieced the cool air.

Captain Anardan shouted in warning. Reno and Shainya simply dissapeared into the ground, and the sled pullers nearly went in after them. Bjarn, Aros, Sir Dractor and Anardan only fell a few feet before the sled's front runners jamming into the snow and stayed there, firmly wedging the sled over the hole with the four dangling beneath.

"Oof..." Bjarn gasped.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Tue Jan 25, 2005 6:27 pm

Grid: G-10
Location: Majisto's Workshop

Lord Void tossed aside yet another scroll with a grunt.

"That's it." he sighed, "That's the last of the Mana spell lists."

Jarvick looked up sharply, then glanced at the shelves that still were crammed with unread manuscripts.

"What about those?" he queried, "There must be something in them, for nothing in the Mana documents confront the matter of the Nugaia spell."

Jarvick's voice was thick with worried and stress. He and Lord Void had spent two months attempting to decode obscure texts and crack the mystery to the Nugaia spell, a self-preserving curse Jarvick's brother, Drock, had laid on himself to shield him from the necromancer BloodVaine's deadly blast.

Lord Void groaned as he stared at a huge tome. It was the same tome that he first had attempting to read, a collection of works by Gfrdrgn, son of Gfrngge, son of Gfrddfng, son of Gfrsfnndk, a goblin scribe who seemed to have a fondness of changing the spelling of any word at whim. Lord Void had gotten only twenty pages into the six hundred page book before giving up and going for easier material to read, such as what soon turned out to be useless Elvish love ballads. Now Lord Void had no choice except to brave the goblin-script again.

As he lumbered back to the oaken table, the tome clutched in both hands, Lord Void muttered, "Curse Majisto for never taking the time to translated this megabloks. I never thought I'd stoop to translating goblin-speak."

"Is there anything else to do?" murmured Jarvick, turning a page of his own, much smaller, book.

Lord Void glanced to the windows and grunted. For all they knew, Majisto's entire workshop was under endless layers of snow. They couldn't even tell if the snowstorm that had picked up three weeks ago had ended. For now, both powerless wizards were incased in tomb filled to the brim with written material.

"I suppose not." snorted Lord Void. Then he popped in his monocle, opened the tome to page twenty-one, and began to translate.

It would be a long winter.
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Postby Loneranger » Tue Jan 25, 2005 7:04 pm

Grid J-10

The winter weather was breezing into 12 travelers faces as they walked beside there horses. Each step led them deeper into the snow, 7 of the travelers lost their horses and they had no food to eat, and whatever they had to drink was frozen. As the breezing wind hit there capes, you could see their cracked armor.

“We should be close to Orion by now M'lord!” One of the travelers yelled out.
“Good, let us keep moving then!” The one of them Yelled out.

Two hours later they came to a huge gate. The men started to knock on the door and scream for some one to open it.

“M'lord! We must get inside, the wind storm is getting worse by the minute!”

Finally a man screamed down from one of the towers.

“Who might yee be!” The guard yelled down.

“We are Black Knights, we have traveled from Rahnoen with our king!” One of the men yelled up at the guard.

“Are yee? How many yee be!”

“their are 12 of us, we have come to see your king and discuss certain matters with him!”

They waited for 5 minutes before the gate started to open. A small number of troops waited for them...

LR
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