Classic-Castle Roleplay: March 2005

[Formendacil]

Greetings Roleplayers!

Additions to the CCRP should be posted in this thread. Questions or commments regarding the continuing epic should be posted in this thread.

Let the adventure continue!

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Lord Void was back in power, and he was not shy to use it.

G-10

Lord Void did not waste any time. At once he was busy: gathering supplies, locking up Majisto's workshop, and constantly testing out his newly-discovered powers. He found out immediately that certain things he could do with the Mana were impossible using the Earth Magic, such as teleharms and teleports. The Mana was a refined magic, carved and shaped by spells, jinxs, and the like. Earth Magic was raw, pure magic leached from the ground itself. There seemed to be no limits as to what Lord Void could perform with no physical and mental strain, but the magic-weaving was more crude, and very much less refined than using the Mana. With Earth Magic, Lord Void could control the elements, but not alter them like the Mana could. He could lift stones effortlessly, melt snow and even suck condensation out of the air like when he filled the glass in Majisto's Workshop, but he could not simply turn a tree into a pheasant.

However, Lord Void was not concerned with these limitations. He knew every form of magic had boundaries, one simply had to learn to work around and deal with them.

Lord Void's first priority was to contact Caimlin. Since teleharming was impossible, Lord Void wrote a simple message on some parchment, sealed it so it would not come to harm, then shot it into the air with a burst of wind. He predicted the notice would reach Caimlin within six hours. Much slower than an instant teleharm, but better than nothing.

Next, he had to reestablish his place as ruler of the Dragon Masters. True, most of his subjects knew of his existence, but he had been hidden away for months. It was the nature of the Dragon Masters to oust a leader without a second thought if he didn't make an appearance and either kill someone or blow something up for show. That was just the way things were.

Now...where should I go? contemplated Lord Void as he crested a snowy peak of a hill a few hundred yard from Majisto's Workshop, The Fire Breathing Fortress is rubble, and I don't want to meet that Jarvick since he's going to the Den...so...ah...yes...

Lord Void suddenly remembered a face, a chubby face, the face of a man he had once dueled with, the face of Sinjosh Hadadar. Hadadar was not a sorcerer himself, but he had once been a fine swordsmen. His skill at the scimitar had been unbeatable in the arid southern areas of Dragonar before Lord Void had defeated him. True, Lord Void had cheated in a weapons-only duel and used magic to snap Hadadar's blade, but no one had known. The judges and the spectators had simply thought Lord Void's powerful sweep of his double-bladed broadsword and not a quick spell had broken his rival's scimitar.

Lord Void smirked at the memory of Hadadar's face. The fool had been furious and stunned and shamed at the crushing blow. That had been the battle that had decided the fate of Dragonar. Lord Void went on to rule the Dragon Master state, and Hadadar had slunk off and succumbed to the lure of fattening food, addictive drugs and female companionship. He even had the gall to call himself Prince Hadadar, even after his clear defeat. Lord Void had let it slide then, for nary a Dragon Master would dare join a fat, powerless slob despite his title when a magical sorcerer had the upper hand.

Yes, that's what he'd do. He'd travel south, into the Mougidishaar Province, and visit 'Prince' Hadadar at his estate, the Grolling Fortress.

[Sir Drake]

Grid: O-6
Location: Maximus' secret hideout

"So, how did you actually knew it was me?"
"Well, rumors make their way trough the land, rumors that The Order has seperated from the Wolf Pack government..."
"We haven't seperated from the Wolf Pack, we just don't accept Red Flames bureaucracy, just a matter of principes, you were saying?"
"Oh right, they say that a small band of rebels is raiding the local Flames over here, you're famous around here"
"Gee, famous is a big word, Maximus, I wouldn't say that, I have been helped by my friends here"
"I'm Fraun, pleasant to meet you"
"I'm Radjar"
"And I'm Strider"
"And I am captain Leonidas"
"Well, the pleasure is all mine, who's the nice lady we're taking care of?"
"That's Aaylah, my older sister" Fraun replied.
"Let's go to sleep now, tommorow is another day, another day of war, but let's not think about that"

It was a terrible night, Aaylah constantly shouted of pain from the wounds even Maximus used the best of the potions he had.
"It will be a matter of rest, Archidamus, a matter of rest" he said to Swift who was guarding Aaylah's bed.
"Maximus, Maximus, I have an urgent message for you!" a scout sounded.
"Captain Commodus, please tell it to me"
"In private sir, in private, please"
"Oh, it's no problem, Commodus, he's with us, this is Archidamus"
"We've spotted Wolf Pack soldiers, they have Falcon soldiers with them"
"Falcons? What in earth do they do here?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend" Swift mummeled.
"What?" the scout said with an asking look on his face.
"The Falcons can't defeat the Foresters and the Dark Foresters head on, so they're trying to take them trough teaming up with it's enemies"

[Formendacil]

Grid: H-21
Location: Anka Dolour

"Fine, let's go steal a ship," said Elbadar. "I'll lead the way," he said, keeping the broadsword unsheathed. "Let's go."

Somehow, they made their way unnoticed through the slaver city to the waterfront. Elbadar halted on a wharf, and waited for the others to come up behind him.

"I'm no sailor," said he. "Which boat do we want?"

"I'm no sailor either," said Quorandis, frowning.

"Me either," said Jayko.

"That one," said Elwen, raising her head from Quorandis' shoulder, and pointing at a small, single-masted yacht. "I hope all of you not-sailors can handle it."

"We'll try," said Quorandis, and soon they were on the yacht, and with a few instructions from Elwen, were on their way out to sea. Quorandis had the the helm, and Jayko and Elbadar were resting after raising the sail, and getting them away from the wharf. Jayko broke out Quorandis' provisions to feed Elwen, while Elbadar stood in the prow looking out to sea.

"This is a fine kettle of dragon-stool," he muttered to himself. "Not a sailor among us, and we need to somehow make our way to land. No wonder the slavers have their city on a island."

As the Dragon Master muttered to himself, a large man o' war out at sea caught his attention. A large warship of Crusader make was sailing towards Anka Dolour. Something about it was very familiar. Behind him, Quorandis had also seen it.

"Is that what I think it is..."

"The Bombardier!" breathed Elbadar. "What luck!"

"Will they take us aboard?" asked Quorandis, slightly concerned.

"Broadside had better," said Elbadar. "But I wouldn't worry overmuch. I can talk him into it."

"Good," said Quorandis. "Because it seems our escape has been sighted."

Elbadar looked astern. A flotilla of ships was casting off in hot pursuit. At their head was Kendo's junk, and the other ships seemed to be filled with more hired mercenaries.

"They've caught sight of the Bombardier too," said Elbadar. "This doesn't bode well..."

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

It was time to move out.

H-10

Anardan, in addition to his sling, had pieced together a sort of crane arm out of wood, enabling the sling and rope to descend the well shaft without bumping or rubbing against the rough stone walls to often. This was essential, for it would be disastrous if the rope parted under friction and caused the sling with it's human cargo to cascade into the dark depths. Bjarn shook his head in approval as he eyed Anardan's handiwork.

"Captain Anardan, I think you missed your calling. You should have been a carpenter, not a soldier." he complimented.

Anardan bobbed his head in thanks. "Why, thank you, Lord Bjarn. It was thanks to my Da I learned skills in woodworking; he was a carpenter himself."

"Very good, let's carry on."

The sling could hold one able-bodied person at a time, and so Voolmark went first, armed with his lighted staff and ready to warn of and repel any predators that might have been waiting at the bottom. None were found, and so Aros went next, followed by Reno, Gib, Shainya and the still-sleeping Luxus together, Sir Dractor, Bjarn, then lastly Anardan himself. They left the contraption in place, but scraped away the snow drift at the bottom of the shaft. If Peregal could have survived the fall, more bloodwolves could, and the Fellowship certainly didn't want those fearsome beasts following them into the roots of the Neverwood.

At last they were all set, with Voolmark and Gib leading the way and Luxus back upon Sir Dractor's shoulders. They delved inward, in search of the Temple Of Lost Stars that had been swallowed whole by a forest that was trying to kill them.

[Formendacil]

Grid: N-24
Location: Talistrand Palace

For the first time in many weeks, the Sorceror-king was pleased about something. It had not been pleasant for those in Talistrand who had had to deal with him. Unable to contact Elbadar, unable to go on without companions, unable to find new ones under the Old Man's watchful eye, the Sorceror-king had not been in a good mood.

With no other options, he had sent out one of Valentius' heralds to Orion, looking for Elbadar and his troops. A return message by carrier pigeon indicated that the Dragon Masters had been found, and were returning immediately.

Unfortunately, the great snowstorm had hit, and the Dragon Masters were delayed crossing Knights' Kingdom territory.

Finally, however, another pigeon had come in. It did not carry a message from the herald, but from the Dragon Masters themselves this time. It read:

Sire,

We deeply regret having taken so long to return to your side. There has been terrible weather even as far south as Kingdom Isle. As I write this, we are within a week of Talistrand, and should make it there within that time, as the weather here, while colder than the climate typically allows, is no longer inclement. We look forward to reaching you in the coming week.

Yours respectfully,

Oris Del Grakken and Elbusin Y'lirk,
Corporals of His Majesty the Sorceror-king's Army

Oris Del Grakken and Elbusin Y'lirk?

Interesting, thought the Sorceror-king, Elbadar is not with the soldiers. Perhaps he fell in battle. It is not unheard.

The Sorceror-king smiled to himself. No, death in battle was NOT unheard of. And, the Master willing, it would remain heard of for quite some time.

[lemon_squeezer2]

The warden of the dungeons usually did not have anything to break his tiresome routine. Every day it seemed the same – always putting requisitions for new materials (which he rarely, if ever got), managing the dispersal of food, and worst of all, getting his three other subordinates to follow orders. Jail keeping was not a glamorous job – oftentimes it seemed the prisoners had it better then he did. At least they didn’t keep any responsibilities.

This week was different though. For the first time in years the man felt something akin to excitement. For two days his mind was wracked with unanswerable questions. Why was the prisoner poisoned? Why did that officer want a comprehensive report?

Today the warden went down the circular steps with s bit of excitement. Yesterday prisoner 4 was looking rather ill – his face had been white and his body seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. Making his way to the cell door, the superintendent slid open a small iron door that stood at eye level. Peering through the iron grates, all he saw was blackness – it took his eyes some time to adjust to the dim light. After a few seconds he could start making out shapes and figures. Yes, there was the cot with the small table next to it with a pit covered with a slab of wood on the other side. The thing that took the guard’s attention the most though was a pitiful figure facedown on the cold stone floor. The man certainly looked dead, but you could never be to sure. The warden himself had head stories of prisoners playing dead and making a break for it as soon as the door was open.

Stepping back, the man moved his hand down to his waist where he kept a large ring of keys. Bringing them up to his face, he flipped though them until he found the right one. Slowly he slipped it into the lock and turned. He had to struggle with it for awhile – the door had not been opened for nearly three years now. Baton in hand, he pushed the massive door as it groaned in protest on its rusted hinges. Stepping into the cell, he looked down on the corpse. Eyeing it suspiciously, he gave it a large kick, causing it to roll over. The man’s face was livid, his mouth agape and his eyes sunken. The warden smiled in satisfaction – one less prisoner to feed, and even better, he could hand in his nearly illegible report – in his dim mind he saw himself getting a raise, promotion, or something even better perhaps. Sticking his head out the door, he called out down the hallway where another guard was supposed to be.
“Boeselager! Get down here – we’ve got a dead ‘un!”

[Formendacil]

H-10
Underground

At last they were all set, with Voolmark and Gib leading the way and Luxus back upon Sir Dractor's shoulders. They delved inward, in search of the Temple Of Lost Stars that had been swallowed whole by a forest that was trying to kill them.

"How are you doing, my friend?" Bjarn asked Sir Dractor as they followed the others. Luxus still slept, resting his head on Sir Dractor's shoulder, and Anardan guarded the rear behind them. "You seem to be moving less stiffly."

"I am improving," admitted Sir Dractor. "With the right optimistic frame of mind, recovery tends to go faster."

Bjarn laughingly shook his head. "You are a marvel, my friend."

"Merely skilled at what I do," disagreed Sir Dractor. "But I am wondering, Bjarn, what do you expect to find when we reach the Temple of Lost Stars? Reno, Aros, Luxus, and maybe Voolmark will all have some work to be done, but what about the rest of us? We are going on as if in fear of what we will meet, but what are we likely to mee that force of arms can fight? I may recover my strength and fitness, but I'm not sure it will be needed down here."

"Perhaps it won't be," said Bjarn. "There's nothing wrong with being able to sit back and watch others do an easy task. Chodan knows we haven't had any such luck yet."

"I know," said Sir Dractor. "That's why I'm worried. As far as we know, there's nothing to do but find the temple, and do the thing we came to do, and then get out of here. That seems too simple. Anything that seems too simple worries me."

"It worries me too," said Bjarn, "but with luck, such worry will prove ridiculous when this is all over."

"I hope so," said Sir Dractor, "but we have had no such luck yet."

[Sir Drake]

Grid: O-6
Location: Maximus' secret hideout

"We'll need to get out of here" Fraun said to Radjar.
"Sure, like I don't know that"
"My men shall cover your retreat" Maximus said "we cannot let all you heros die, can't we?"
"Do you have horses here?" Swift asked Maximus.
"Sure we have, their in the back of the base"
"Great, search some volunteers willing to cover us and get the rest of your men on their horses"
"Right away"
"Fraun, you load Aaylah on a horse and take my horse with you"
"Sure, but what are you going to do?"
"I'm staying here 'till the last man dies"
"If you stay, I stay" Strider said.
"Ok then, Leonidas, you lead these men to the Citadel, got it?"
"Yes, sir"

In a matter of minutes, everyone in the hideout was quite busy, gathering supplies and arming the soldiers who had volunteerd to cover the retreat of their friends.
Swift was checking his amount of arrows.
Only fifty he thought.

"Are you ready?" Maximus asked.
"Yes, I'm always ready to fight, I'm born to be ready"
"Sire, they are comin'" Commodus shouted to Maximus.
"Great, make sure all the men are ready"
I just hope the others are getting away safely Swift hoped.
"Arrows ready" an officer shouted to the soldiers who were defending the entrance.
"FIRE"
A wall of arrows collided on the other Wolf Pack soldiers who just got in.

On the outside there was a leader shouting to his men, giving them orders.
"Get the crossbow soldiers over here NOW!"
They all readied a bolt and fired at the entrance and killed over a dozen Daggers.

"Tyco" Swift shouted while he grabbed his last arrow and making it ready to fire.
"On to the stairs, to the higher level!!"
All remaining soldiers quickly got on the large stone stairs to the main command room. (since I haven't gave any descriptions of the hideout, you can see a drawing here don't mind my paint skills).

Meanwhile, Falcons and Red Flame warrioirs were swarming in. Swift fired his last arrows and then went over to his sword and slashed into the incoming enemies and then went to the command room.
"Swift!! Duck!!!" Strider yelled from in there. The remaining defenders had putted up a wall and fired taking down a bunch of Falcons.
Swift got back on his feet and defended the command room untill they needed to fall back to the stables.

"This isn't going well" Swift said "we are not stretching enough time to secure a safe retreat for the others"
It was a mess in the stables, flies were all over the corpses and arrows fletched continuously from both sides.
Swift quickly grabbed some hay and made a small wall from it, then he threw a torch in it. The stuff quickly got fire and so the Daggers got themself some defense and time to rest, at least until the fire got out. When it got out, the battle started again, the Red Flame warriors and the Falcons had allready a strong position as they had conquered 2/3 of the base.
They were pushing the defenders out of their own building.
It was now allready night and still the battle raged on, but there couldn't be a victory for the Daggers.
"We've stretched time long enough, let's leave this Tyco-place!!" Swift ordered, but there weren't many men left.
"You go, I'll hold them off" Maximus said.
Swift limped to a horse, together with Strider and some other soldiers and rode out, into darkness.
__________

Meanwhile, on another place close to the Citadel, Radjar, Fraun, Leonidas, Aaylah and some Daggers were making camp.

"I hope Swift and the others made it out alive" Fraun said.
"He'll be fine, he's a tough guy so is Strider, they'll be just fine"

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"It worries me too," said Bjarn, "but with luck, such worry will prove ridiculous when this is all over."

"I hope so," said Sir Dractor, "but we have had no such luck yet."

H-10

"Unfortunatly, that is true." admitted Bjarn, "But I think it is more that simply 'bad luck'. Yes, those normal timberwolves were just hungry and we were invading their territory, but these other wolves, these bloodwolves, they are the work of something evil. They are purposly here to deflect out quest."

They fell silent, then Bjarn continued, "As to the Temple, we will simply have to see what to do when we get there. I certainly have no idea, nor, I think, did Daner. If he did know, why would he keep it from us? To what point?"

Sir Dractor shrugged. "I don't know, I've never met the man before. Have you considered the possiblity --"

"Yes." Bjarn cut Sir Dractor off, "Yes, I have wondered if Daner is leading us astray. But why? What would he gain from it? If he wanted us killed, he could have done so without all this trouble. No, Daner does not wish us ill, but niether can he help us much. It is up to us, I suppose, to free Dametreos from the grip of BloodVaine's spirit?"

"But how?" grunted Sir Dractor, "I have a feeling in my gut we won't simply be able to 'cast the Pendants back into the firey pit from whence they came'."

Bjarn chuckled. "If only if it was that simple..."

Bjarn paused, then said, "Sir Dractor, I have been thinking, on your comment on about us having nothing to do when the temple is found. Well, I don't think we will simply be lazying about while Reno and Aros do something with the Pendants. All of us came on this quest for a reason. I feel all of us will play a part somehow. If that has been already played, I don't know. Look at Anardan. Without his skill at carpentry, perhaps we wouldn't have made it to Orion, or down here. And what about Luxus? He alone was able to defeat those tyco wolves. Which reminds be of Swift, and his companions, and Otto too. What compelled them to give us those amulets. I think Swift's amulet has certainly played it's part...but what about Otto?"

Sir Dractor nodded. "Don't forget it was you Daner approached in the first place. Perhaps your role is yet to be played."

Bjarn groaned. "I hope not...this body can't take much more...I'll leave fighting off cave demons and the like to you..."

"Heh..."

[TheOrk]

J-10 Yellow Castle

Several hours passed. After learning of what stalked the sewers the guardsmen were walking around in groups of ten. Valric went back to the Yellow Castle to report. His “superiors” didn’t care much for the news.

Saying only that Valric would hunt it down the next day and slay it. Valric was pacing around the castle smithy. Sir Weigraf had done a number on his armour. And it was the only one that could fit a minifig with his frame. The blacksmith said he would have it as good as new in no time.

Tales of how Valric had saved the other two soldiers from the clutches of the “demon” had spread thoughout the Yellow Castle. That night Valric stumbled to his bunk in a stupor. He had chugged enough to virtualy destroy a normal minifig, but with his endurance forged from a hundred battles, he was only a bit tipsy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sir Weigraf stood against a wall in the sewers. He had been defeated in battle… And he was made stronger then any other man. He was beyond the skill of any warrior. But still he was defeated…

That gash across his upper back had healed already. Weigraf had powers no other had. But he needed blood to use it.

Suddenly without warning pain lanced through his head. Schreeching he fill to his knees, clawing at his helmet. But then he forgot it was fused to his body. Angered he shattered a nearby brick with his clenched fist. He knew what caused this.

“M,master!” He shrieked.
The pain subsided alittle. A teleharm filled it’s place. His master the cruel sorcerer Pythos’s booming voice bounced around in his skull.

“Weigraf, you displease me. You have failed miserably in the first true test of your mettle. You know the penalty for failure!”

“Wait! I can explain, it was the red-“ He stammered.
“Excuses, excuses. You have failed!” An even greater lance of pain hit him.

“Master it was the, the red haired warrior with the strange sword. When he struck me, all my power seemed to leave me!”

Pythos didn’t say anything for several moments, but was content to leave Weigraf rolling around in the mud in pain.
“I have considered this. The one they call Valric dwells within the Yellow Castle. Kill him and take his sword. There is system of secret passages throughout the Yellow Castle. Many have entrances in the sewers. Once you have completed your mission teleharm me immediately.”

Weigraf started to say something but Pythos cut him off. “Remember Weigraf. Before you were a normal man cursed with mortallity. I made you what you are, and I can destroy you.”

Weigraf stood up his, path clear. “One day Pythos, it will be you taking orders from me.”

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Roots of the Neverwood


The tunnel widened and narrowed as the Fellowship pushed on, like the path of some great creature burrowing through the hard earth. The path led steadily down, to the point where no roots delved, and the soil was permanently frozen.

Bringing up the rear with his torch casting an eerie glow about the passage's walls, Anardan shivered. The tunnel suddenly narrowed drastically ahead of them, an opening the size of a barrel's end the only aparture. The company came to a grinding halt.

"Anardan, come up here;" Gib called from the head of the line; "We need your tools to widen this hole."

The Forestman captain passed his torch to Bjarn and slid past the other Fellowship members, crouching so his head would not strike the ceiling.
Voolmark and Gib moved over to make room for him, and Anardan crouched as low as he could to slide up the hole. As he took off his heavy backframe, Anardan noticed loose dirt and dust around the opening, as if someone had been scrabbling about it in the dark.

"It looks like Peregal's already been here, perhaps two hours ago;" Obseved Anardan. "He must not have a light, I've noticed scuff marks on the walls the whole length of the passage."

"How do you know that?" quiried Gib.

"Besides carpentry, my ol' pa taught me tracking. He said it was something every Forestman worth his salt should know."

Anardan had salvaged everything he thought necessary from the ruined sled in the pit before they abandoned it, including two short pickaxes. Handing one to Gib, the two levered at the hard dirt and stones until they gave way, the loostened stones clattering away into the darkness, leaving a fair sized hole behind.

"It looks like it's pretty steep." observed Gib.

The others agreed. A veritable slide of loose dirt and gravel was all they could see with the light of Voolmark's staff, stretching down into the darkness.

"I'll go first." offered Anardan, slinging off his pack and handing it to Aros.

"Good luck;" said Bjarn, looking worried. "Call out if you find anything."

Sitting down on the edge, he pushed off into the gloom. Small rocks bounced and tumbled aside as he slid down, the light from Voolmark's staff growing dim as he finially ground to a halt, a mound of dirt at the bottom arresting his fall.

"Are you alright?" Called Bjarn from the top.

"Yes, I am." replied Anardan. "There's a pile of scree here that cushions your fall."

"We'll be right down."
[/i]

[Formendacil]

Grid: H-21
Location: Anka Dolour harbour

Elbadar looked astern. A flotilla of ships was casting off in hot pursuit. At their head was Kendo's junk, and the other ships seemed to be filled with more hired mercenaries.

"They've caught sight of the Bombardier too," said Elbadar. "This doesn't bode well..."

At the helm of the Bombardier, Admiral Jacques Broadside looked out at Anka Dolour's harbour. A fleet of ships was putting to sea, apparently in chase of a small yacht. It was a fine ship, he could tell, and in the hands of a practised sailor like himself, he could have outrun any of the scruffy vessels that followed it. Unfortunately, it seemed to be manned by a crew of landlubbers, and it was barely doing half the speed it should have.

"Pipe up the crew," Broadside told his mate. "Have 'em stand by to bring 'er in."

As the mate was shouting orders to the deck, Broadside took another look at the yacht.

"They're hailin' us, cap'n," said the lookout. "They want ter be brought aboard."

"That's a powerful lot of trouble they've got behind 'em," said Broadside. "Too risky. Don' know what they're up to."

"I recognise one!" said the mate. "That's Colonel Elbadar in the prow."

"Aye!" said the lookout, "and those others be the Classic general, the lady with the crown, and that rainbow-blue knight, except he seems to be missing his armour."

Broadside was worried. He had escaped the Sorceror-king, and had no intention of going back to his service. On the other hand, if Bernard Quorandis and several of his closest companions were on hand, it probably meant an Imperial mission, and there could be an Imperial fleet in the near waters. Broadside had no desire to entangle with any sort of law enforcement.

"Bring them aboard," he said slowly. "I daren't risk it."

So much, he thought, for getting away from the Sorceror-king.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

It was a mistake. As soon as Dale was within the sword, so was Brugs, and the lethal weapon was off like a firecracker, swerving drunkenly down the street, half of it searching for victims, the other trying to prevent murder. It was only a matter of time before the first of many screams pierced the black night.

J-10

Dale was sick. Emotionally sick. Sick and tired. Sick and drained. Sick and sad. He was now a murderer.

Well, no, that was wrong. He technically wasn't one who killing...but he felt responsible. Brugs was the one wielding the sword...but it was Dale's (or mostly Dale's sword, Reno certainly had no use for it now) sword that was piercing hearts and lungs, chopping off heads and laying open guts.

Fifteen. That was the number, fifteen innocent persons, slaughtered by the insane ghost of Brugs the Dragon Master. Fifteen lives snuffed out. And Dale could do nothing about it.

Since all of them had been killed buy Reno's cursed sword, all of them were now possessing it along with Brugs and Dale. All of them weak weepy and weak, and none dared confront Brugs, least of all Dale. But the guilt was killing him...except...he was already dead. He had failed. Dale, the pacifist bard, could of prevented the murder of a dozen innocent people, and hadn't. He hated himself.

[Barbapple]

'What now?' He thought, 'surely, I must get off this wrechid island.'
He smiled as he read a roadsign.
"Parcours --->"
A new town. Time for a little fun.

P-4
Parcours

Markus rode into the costside town. He had already changed from the forester clothing back into his armour.
"You!" Markus yelled to a child wandering the streets, "You, tell me, where might I sell my horse?"
The child was scared, and hessitant to answer.
"Quickly, you foul kid, or I shall render your head from your shoulders." Markus shouted.
"T-t-the st-stable is 'round the corner there" He said, poining to a nearby corner.
"Thankyou." Said markus in a less-than-freindly tone, "Now begone!"
And before you could blink, the child was nowhere to be found.
The selling of his horse went off without a hitch, as Markus did not desire much. Only enough to pay for a night in the nearby Out Inn.
"I will soon be out of this Megablock excuse of a nation." He said to himself.