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Classic-Castle Roleplay: April 2005

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Classic-Castle Roleplay: April 2005

Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Fri Apr 01, 2005 5:37 pm

Greetings Roleplayers!

Additions to the continuing epic should be posted here. Questions and comments regarding the CCRP should be posted in this thread.

Let the adventure continue!
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Postby Loneranger » Fri Apr 01, 2005 6:16 pm

The sun was setting, as Sirion watched from his window in his room. He looked over at his papers on the desk. Everything was going smoothly. His ships had arrived from the Black Knight islands with more supply's and troops, and the plague was almost gone. The city walls were being rebuilt, farm land was being repaired.

Sirion sat there for a few minutes, finally becoming comfortable in his chair when he heard a knock on the door.

“M'lord, theres a special gift box for you, it came from one of the Islands.”

“Bring it in.”

A servant brought in a wooden box. Sirion opened it, seeing it's contents. A wine glass, with the best wine the islands could produce.

“Heh, a invitation.” Sirion said under his breath, after looking at the name on the wine bottle.

“M'lord?”

“Servant, tell the commander we are going on a voyage to the islands.”

“Yes M'lord, right away.”

LR
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Postby Formendacil » Fri Apr 01, 2005 7:06 pm

Grid: N-24
Location: A small, burnt, inn, just north of Talistrand.

Formendacil wrote:"Well," said the Old Man. "Let's see if we can't find a place to sleep. I need rest. And we need to find two more horses tomorrow. Jayko's is still here because it was tied outdoors."

Then, without a word of apology to Jayko, he and Elwen set off to do just that.


They got very little sleep that night. First of all, there was pretty much nowhere indoors that was half-decent to sleep in. Secondly, the Old Man was continually being harassed by curious people, hoping to attain some magical favour.

Come morning, having had a slight amount of rest, they went off in search of their horses. Ultimately, there wasn't a trace of them to be found.

"We'll just have to acquire some new ones," said the Old Man. Unfortunately, the small hamlet around the inn had no decent riding horses, and none of the other guests would part with theirs. The Old Man sent Elwen back to Talistrand on Jayko's horse with orders to purchase the first two quality riding horses she could find, and then come back posthaste.

The Old Man then collapsed on his makeshift bed, and fell into a deep sleep, needing to replenish his strength after all the magic of the night before.

Jayko wandered around the village disconsolately for most of the afternoon, attracting the attention of the local children, who had never before seen an Eastern Knights' Kingdom knight. Jayko had replaced his armour and sword in Talistrand. Eastern Knight's Kingdom armour was surprisingly easy to acquire. For all that it was as good qualitatively as typical knight's plate armour, a full suit of coloured armour just didn't seem very popular.

Evening came, and Jayko ate supper alone. Night came, and he went to bed.

Elwen returned from the city after midnight, exhausted from not having properly slept for more than two days, and from a considerable amount of riding. She tethered the three horses, and then fell promptly asleep.

Jayko awoke the next morning to find Elwen and the Old Man both in deep sleeps. The Old Man was still regathering his energy, and Elwen was still catching up on lost sleep. They slept the day away as Jayko loitered around the village, doing nothing of purpose.

Late afternoon came, and Elwen woke. The Old Man did soon after. Neither was pleased at having slept another day away, but they said nothing in reproach to Jayko (Elwen said nothing at all).

They went back to sleep late that evening, and rose with the sun the following morning, setting off northwards, after the Sorceror-king, whose headstart had grown by leaps and bounds while they had been delayed. By the Old Man's guess, they would reach the Old Ruins at the same time.
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Postby Loneranger » Fri Apr 01, 2005 7:52 pm

It was getting dark out. Sirion fell back into his chair, it took him a few minutes before he became comfortable again. Then, Closing his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep. suddenly, a memory started to play like a movie in his mind. Of a child on top of a wall, with a bucket of tare in his hands. The kid was trying not to laugh as he looked over the side of the wall. Then, he quickly poured the bucket over the wall. Hearing a scream, he ran laughing down the wall. Never looking back.

Sirion soon came out of his sleep. He opened his eyes only to close them again, the sun was shining brightly upon his eyes.

“Is it day already?” He said to himself as He began to get out of the chair he fell asleep in. looking at all the messy papers on his desk, he felt hungry.

Later. After getting something to eat, he went to the large port in the city. Greeting the commander in charge.

“My Lord. I have done all that you have requested of me.” The commander said.

“Good, good. When can she leave port?”

“Whenever, sir.”

“Good, we will be leaving shortly. Make sure the things in the cart are put in my cabbin.”

“Yes my Lord.” The Commander saluted and walked off, giving out orders to the servants to load Sirion's things.

Not long after, the ship set sail. Leaving for the Black Knight Islands.

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Postby Formendacil » Fri Apr 01, 2005 9:39 pm

Grid: G-14
Location: Leaving Glondur

Formendacil wrote:It wasn't too far from Glondur, and the coast. Once he got there, he could ditch the annoyingly unmotivated horse, and press on by ship. With winter lifting or lifted, it should be fair enough for travel, and swift enough to reach Talistrand by a decent date.


A fast ship was leaving Glondur harbour, bound for Talistrand Isle, largest and farthest south of the Classic Isles. It was a privately owned vessel, made to sail the seas at top speed.

It was expensive too, sailing at the request of whoever hired it, to wherever it was hired to go, but it cost, and it cost a fair bit.

It's captain, Helga Bernice von Blunderhaussen, was a woman born to the sea. The daughter of a Crusader naval captain and Black Knight pirate, she had been raised on ships since childhood, and had inherited her ship, the Sea Serpent upon her mother's death. She now made her living running passengers from port to port, as they chose. She was expensive, but the best. Short of magical aid, there was no faster ship.

Sir Dractor had found Helga in a tough, seaside bar in Glondur, surrounded by seasalts of every age and shape. Upon asking who was going to Talistrand the soonest, and with the most speed, he was immediately told to see Helga.

"If you've got money, she can do it in half the time of her next best competition," he was told.

It cost Sir Dractor everything he had, and he still had to borrow money from the scurvy moneylenders that haunted Glondur's business section, but by noon the next day, Glondur had disappeared from sight, and he was snoring in the hold as the Sea Serpent struck out for Talistrand.

As Sir Dractor slept, a voice came to him in his head.

-Aethelred- it said.

"What?"

-When you reach Talistrand Isle, do not land in the city. Land forty miles north up the coast, in a small cove known to well-travelled sailors as the Smuggler's Bane. Elwen and I will be waiting.-
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Postby Commander Redbeard » Sat Apr 02, 2005 3:41 am

Location: Borders of the Forestman territory

Within two weeks; Anardan and Elacil were together again by the Borders. Anardan had spent a week at the forest outpost before Reno's invitation caught up to him; and he was delighted to find that Elacil was attending the wedding as well.

They stayed at the keep for the next five days; finially returning to their post after wishing Reno and Shainya good luck.

The days went by, one by one, the Wolfpack civil war raging on the opposite side of the border, but the watch was never lessened and there was no trouble for the Border Guards.

Anardan was busy for most of the day, but every night, he sat in his tent with quill in hand, writing in the candlelight.

"What are you writing, Anardan?" asked Elacil as pen and paper were once again pulled out of a trunk. "I've never seen you take much interest in literature before, but now you're writing every spare moment you have."

"Funny you should ask;" replied Anardan as he dipped his quill. "I never saw a future in writing for myself either. Before we left Drullen Bell Keep, Lord Bjarn requested that I write an account of the journey of the Fellowship of the Pendants to keep in the library. Once I started, It got much easier. I should be done in a week or so."

"I hope you'll let me read it;" commented Elacil. "You still have not told me your whole story."

"Of course, Elacil. I plan to leave nothing out of this manuscript. Bjarn asked for the complete story, so that's what I intend to write."

He adjusted the paper and started writing, the smooth motion of his quill as it moved across the paper bringing him back to the scenes that flowed from his quill. Words could not do justice to the Epic of the Pendants, but he would do his best.
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 Sir Drake » Sat Apr 02, 2005 10:05 am

Grid: L-7
Location: Hemlock Stronghold

It was a week full of greive. Strider was cremated and his ashes now belonged to Earth.
It was one of Swift's restless nights again, but this night was other than the others.

Swift lay in bed, next to Aaylah, whom was fast asleep. Swift couldn't sleep, his head was full of drups, he had fever, but even he wasn't sick. He didn't understand.
Swift stood up and went outside Hemlock.
The grasses of Hemlock plains were still wet from the rain of past few days. As Swift stood there, watching the sky, suddenly a ghost or spirit appeared in front of him.
No, wait, it was none of these beings, Swift looked closer as the appearance took form,...it was an Angel.

"Are you an Angel?" he asked.
"Yes, that I am, I'm Angel Gabrielus, you might know me as Silverback" the old man said with a friendly smile.
"F-Father? Is that really you, why have you come?"
"The situation in the Wolf Pack lands is becoming unstabile, Varras is gaining too much power, I'm here to help you stop it"
"How?" Swift asked.
"You are born the Chosen One, you were born to ban Evil out of the Wolf Pack lands"
"There's no Evil in the Wolf Pack lands but Varras"
"That's where you're wrong, Varras is strong, he has summoned all filth from over the world: Demons, Vampires, Orcs, he has summoned them all to fight in his Black Crusade, the Crusade to rid the Wolf Pack of all Good"
"What can I do about that, I can't handle his army all by myself"
"I know, son, you must travel to the Hights of Layah-Mih, there you will find the holy Medjai warriors, prove that you are the One, take Radjar with you, he will have a role to play in your quest, I can't tell you more, son, go well, take good care of Aaylah" Silver back said and dissappeared.

Swift ran back to Hemlock and packed his stuff, he would leave tommorow.
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Postby TheOrk » Sat Apr 02, 2005 4:45 pm

L-12 Castle Dracul

Pythos sat in the study pouring over the book he had taken from the Fright Knight’s crypt, none disturbed him as the only entrance was blocked by the dark bulk of Sir Weigraf. Suddenly the air began to stir, Pythos looked up to see Belzzar appear in the middle of the room.

“Couldn’t you have used the door? You Dametreosians have a weak grasp on mana.” Muttered Pythos.

“I would, but I would prefer not getting into close contact with that ghoul!” He snapped.

Pythos chuckled “Why is it that you fear him so? He is only a tool! The worthless spawn of intellibrix, he obeys my commands to the letter, if I choose to let him hurt someone, then they deserve it. I have no reason to do it to you.”

“What is in that book?” Belzzar growled, “I sense that nearly all of the dark things swirling around in the crypt still revolve around that book.”

“Correct dear nephew.” Smiled Pythos, this is not an ordinary book as realized, it is both a spellbook and a journal. It is the content that is responsible, for many of the restless spirirts in the cyrpt.”

“What is in it? My father gave his life for that book, if I knew where it was before I’d take and find out myself…”
“Correct again dear nephew, the late Count Heindrich found this book long ago when you were still a babe…”

Belzzar eye’d him hatefully everytime he said “Dear nephew” Pythos closed the book. Belzzar noticed immediately the atmosphere of the room became more pleasant.

“O dear nephew! I know what lead to his death.” Pythos hissed malicously, taking great delight in toying with him.
“Very well then I shall start at the beginning… It was many years ago when you were a babe. My good friend Count Heindrich took part in the monthly tradition of hunting hill orcs before they multiplied to great unmanagible numbers.
He and a hunting party consisting of a dozen scale clad knights got lost in the hills. After wandering about, Heindrich came upon an old tomb. He sent three of his least favorite knights in to investigate. None came out. Holding his Bat Staff aloft, the curious count and the rest of his minions ventured inside.

Within the long dead King’s tomb was a book of great unimaginable power. The curious grae robbers found the knights slain by booby traps. Wanting to know what was so important, they pried the lid of the King’s tomb.

I believe the evil of that fell book, slew all but Count Heindrich himself. He knew immdiatly the book held great power. Being a BatLord he took the book in the hopes he would come to rival she-of-the-burrow. Also in the book was a cursed weapon forged to fight the evil of the book. An enchanted blade…

Count Heindrich turned to madness, just as my cursed practices brought along Sir Weigraf, another brave knight got tangled up in the affiars of the Count.”

Pythos thought a minute, “The knight, Sir Valric of Orion…This was five years ago. You were away in Gynthaunt.” Belzzar nodded in remembrence.

“Heindrich had sunken into madness, as far as it is for any minifig to go, attempted to do what I plan for. He barley succeeded to a degree. He managed to open the portal, but the young hot headed Sir Valric slew him and took the blade for his own. The portal began to close and all appeared to be well for Dametreos. The portal as it closed sucked in Valric.

As now believe he did not end up in the Megabloks, but in a foreign land. Recently he has returned.” Pythos drew the sword from the folds of his robes

“Sir Weigraf managed to procure this from him” He motioned to the sword, he had no use for it so he tossed it to Belzzar.

“This was once my father’s?” He asked.
“Yes… It can cause great harm to creatures of shadow. Meaning none of us have any use for it.”

“Aye…Who and where is this Valric?” He muttered.
“I personally don’t know or care… Weigraf wounded him with his magic, so until it heals I can keep tabs on him. He is in the midst of the Royal-Falcon war, that’s is all I know.”
“Back on topic, the book is known as the Tome of Tyco.” Lightning arced outside, and the fire blew out. Belzzar suddenly felt very uncomfortable in that chamber alone with the demented sorcerer.

“Yes even by mentioning the name the book’s magic comes into effect…”

Belzzar couldn’t get very much more out of him except for he was almost done studying the book.

Minutes later Belzzar left, he tried gave Weigraf a dirty look on his way out. The dark bulk didn’t even notice him leave. If it wasn’t for the strange eyes that glowed with hate, Weigraf would be indentical to the many statues that populated the corridors of Castle Dracul.

In the mean time he a Bat Lord had ways of finding out more about this Valric…
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Postby LEGO-las » Sat Apr 02, 2005 9:18 pm

Grid: L-12 Crusader border
Moff D'Florda was in an excellent mood. His small crew of 10 Shadow Knights had all made it to the Crusader border, without being harmed. Their orders were to spy on the Crusaders. Their Master was extremely suspicious of the Crusaders, but Moff didn't understand. The Crusaders hadn't done anything.
But Moff wasn't dumb enough to disobey. To disobey meant death. So they sailed from the KK2 mainland (O-12) to the Crusader Mainland. (L-12).
"Hey you, ya Shadows! Stop it there! You're under arrest by the Crusaders!"
A group of Crusaders had assembled on a hill. They odviously outnumbered the Shadow Knights. The "shadows" immediatly surrendered.
But Moff wasn't going to give up. He strained to hear the Crusader captain speak to one of his advisors.
"These must be the ones he wanted us to get. Their ship is over there. It fits his description perfectly. He said some fishermen overheard them. They were spies."
Moff was not going to fail his master.
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Postby Formendacil » Sun Apr 03, 2005 6:20 am

Grid: I-19
Location: At Sea

Formendacil wrote:-Aethelred- it said.

"What?"

-When you reach Talistrand Isle, do not land in the city. Land forty miles north up the coast, in a small cove known to well-travelled sailors as the Smuggler's Bane. Elwen and I will be waiting.-


"Smuggler's Bane, eh?" said Helga. "Yeah, I've heard of that megablox place, every good seasman has. You want to be put ashore there?"

"Yes," said Sir Dractor, noting once again in his mind that it was a very good thing that Helga wanted no husband. With a take-charge attitude like hers, and a gruffness to rival the burliest of mercenaries, not mention a general lack of attractive looks, a middle-aged woman like herself had about as much chance of snagging a husband as Sir Dractor did of dancing the ballet. As it was though, Helga had about as much interest in marriage as he did in the ballet.

"What makes the Smuggler's Bane so well known?" he asked.

"Well the name ought to give some intellebrix idea!" said Helga. "It's a perfectly formed cove: deep, close to the main highway, but away from any towns or settlements, well-hidden with cliffs and groves. It would be the perfect spot to smuggle goods into Talistrand wholesale, except for one tyco problem: the mouth of the cove, while looking as safe as baby baboon, is as shallow as a Royal Knight courtier. Hundreds of sailors over the centuries have lost their lives trying to sail into that cove, thinking it perfectly safe, only to have the bellies of their ships gutted like salmon."

"I see," said Sir Dractor. "You have no qualms depositing me there?"

"You get what you want," said Helga. "That's the deal. You pay, I deliver. You wanna be delivered by the Smuggler's tyco Bane, then I deliver you there. All I gotta do is moor the ship offshore, and send you in by longboat. Nothing to it."
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Postby LEGO-las » Sun Apr 03, 2005 6:19 pm

LEGO-las wrote:Grid: L-12 Crusader border
Moff was not going to fail his master.


Grid: L-11
The Crusader captain had made the prisoners, and his own men, march on through the night. They were nearing a prison when Moff D'Florda made his move. He lashed out with the chains he was bound to, wrapping them around the captain's neck.
"Let us go now, or he'll be dead." he said in a calm voice.
The Crusaders laughed. Moff squeased. They laughed. He squeased. Then he fell senseless.
Grid: N-10 (I think) Denderham
"Sir, this is their leader. His name is Moff D'Florda."
"Good. Leave us. Now, who are you? What do you want?"
"As your Captain said, I am Moff D'Florda. I was sent by Lord Vladek II to hire some mercanaires."
"Do you tell the truth?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then you will leave here. I will have some of my soldiers take you where you need to get. Do you accept?"
"Yes, I do."
"Where do you need to go?"
"The ruins of the Fire Breathing fortress (G-10)."
"You leave now. I will get rid of you as soon as I can."
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Tue Apr 05, 2005 3:55 am

Elsa Byrd scooped up the coins and deposited them in her purse. Right before she shut the door she leaned back and said, "Oh and call me, dahling, as soon as you're back from Royal Knight land. I so enjoy our little chats."


G-11

It had been a week since the eccentric architect Elsa Byrd had accepted the job of designing the new and improved Fire Breathing Fortress. Now, Lord Void's study was in chaos. The large oak table was enveloped in massive sheet of parchment, and quills and ink bottles were scattered everywhere. More parchment was piled upon seats and upon the floor. The only seat not buried under parchment was occupied. Elsa Byrd sat at the desk, perched upon an a stool and a pile of books, grandiosely wielding her favorite quill, a gaudy and ridiculously large phoenix tail feather. The quill never stopped moving, it's tip skittering across the parchment like a spider. A suddenly knock interrupted her sketches.

"Who's there, dahling!"

Lord Void opened the door, his eyes flaring. They widened when his saw the condition of his study, then they flicked to the figure at his desk.

"Miss Byrd...I was not aware you...ah...had taken up residence here..."

"Void, dahling, there you are at last!" Elsa Byrd flashed a mouthful of teeth, "Oh yes, so con-vee-niant, isn't it, I being here, dahling?"

"Very." snapped Lord Void, "I would say make yourself at home...but I see you already have..."

Lord Void began to take a step forward into the sea of parchment, but was halted by a shrieking, "MY GOD, STOP!"

Elsa Byrd was in the air, her slim black want flicking, and Lord Void was pushed backwards into the door. Elsa Byrd swooped like a hawk to the parchment, continuing, "My god, dahling, you make me go insane! This is a disaster, DIS-AS-TER, dahling!" She began scooping up papers with her wand and sending them in all directions. "Oh, how art is disregarded, oh, how it is stepped upon! I used to design for GODS, and now I have a fumbling wizard to work for! The agony! Why don't you look where you're STEPPING, dahling!"

Lord Void just barely managed to control himself from detonating the entire Grolling Fortress, and growled, "My apologies, Miss Byrd. I will take note on where I step from now on."

At once Elsa Byrd's actions ceased, and she sat back down on her stool.

"Very good, dahling, how wonderfully we work together!"

I could eliminate you in a second, thought Lord Void, but I won't, for you can design a fortress and I cannot.

"How is the fortress coming?" he managed to say smoothly, carefully making his way through the study.

"My god, yes, it is sheer brilliance, dahling, sheer brilliance!" Elsa Byrd cried, and went on into a long and incomprehensible description of the fortress-to-be. While she was talking, Lord Void poured both of them a glass of wine.

Elsa Byrd, seeing the prospect of wine, instantly broke off her monologue to down a glass, then asked, "And where were you, dahling, these last days?"

"I was," said Lord Void, "negotiating with the Royal Knights. As of yesterday, the Dragon Master land is fifty square miles bigger, and the Royal Knight treasury four million coins richer."

"My God, dahling, fifty square miles! That is pooh-pooh, a mere slice of grass, a chunk of rock! That is NOTHING!"

"Fifty square miles of land connecting Dragonar to the west coast." Lord Void explained mildly.

"Coast? Coast? Whatever are you wanting coast for? Beachside property is USELESS! My god, there are pirates and raids and fish and smuggling and tsunamis and storm surges and floods and storms and -- you see dahling. Invest inland instead, much more profitable."

"One can't ship slaves from Anka Dolour from inland."

Elsa Byrd's bulbous eyes widened. "Then you have gotten smart at last, Void, dahling! No more hired labor, no more wage disputes. Slaves!"

"You ever heard of a man named Yuri Firetresses?"

"Yuri Firetresses?" Elsa Byrd nodded, "Nice man, good with kids."

“We go back a long time. He’s a Dragon Master, you know, and he’s now the governor of Anka Dolour. We’ve worked out a little…deal. Once Caimlin has built me a fleet, slaves will be shipped from Anka Dolour to Port Firetresses, my new port.”

“Very good, dahling. And slaves will build my Fire Breathing Fortress?”

“My fortress, yes.”

Lord Void stood and nodded slightly.

“I shall leave you to your work.”

“Excellent, dahling. You do that…”

Lord Void exited and sighed. Elsa Byrd may have been the biggest pain in the mega blocks Lord Void had to deal with, but he had caught a glimpse of the plans to the new Fire Breathing Fortress. She was the best, and he could stand her a little longer knowing his fortress would be the best he could ever imagine.
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Postby Formendacil » Tue Apr 05, 2005 4:47 am

Grid: L-7
Location: Hemlock Stronghold, the Royal Throne Room

It was less than a week since Emperor Constantius' reply concerning the Dark Forest succession had arrived, but the Dark Foresters had moved fast to crown Queen Arabella. They wanted no signs of weakness to encourage the Wolfpack war to move south.

Lady Arabella had been most gracious when Modious Morphous and the rest of the council arrived on her doorstep asking her to be queen. It was not a job she had ever wanted or envied, but she was a patriotic woman, and the scars of the past year were still plain on the Dark Forest nation. She accepted the honour.

So it was that as many of the Dark Forest nobles as could be gathered were in the Throne Room of the Hemlock Stronghold on April 4th, 2005 C.C. to witness the coronation of Queen Arabella. In attendance was Prince Radjar Kath, Gonderin of the Forestmen (representing Lord Bjarn), Clement Legonis (the only son the Emperor, and his official representative), a Crusader ambassador, and various local dignitaries.

Modious Morphous, Interim Governor of the Dark Forest, stood beside the throne, the crown and sceptre resting on a small pedestal to the side of the throne.

"All rise for Her Grace, the Lady Fornsir," announced Morphous, as Arabella entered the throne room, and started down the aisle. She was dressed in an elegant, floor-length gown of black silk and green velvet. Her figure was straight, and only slightly plump. Her long brown hair, shot with the grey of age, was elegantly bound in a braided bun. Her son, Harold, Baron Fornsir, escorted her down the aisle.

At the dais, Harold stood to the left the throne, while Arabella knelt before it. Morphous took the crown, and held it before her.

"Arabella Louise Fornsir," he pronounced, "by the authority invested in me as governor of the Kingdom of the Dark Forest, acting on behalf of all the people, and in congruence with the Emperor of Legoland, I show you the crown of Fallmir Kath, the symbol of rule in this realm. I ask you to respond to the following requests as truthfully as you may.

"Do you swear to uphold the laws of the Kingdom of the Dark Forest, to abide by them forever, and to ensure that all future laws added or changed will remain loyal to the spirit of the same?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to safeguard the liberties and freedoms of the Dark Forest people, in times of peace and war, to act with force when necessary, with diplomacy when able, and with wisdom as far as Chodan gives you ability?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to represent the Kingdom of the Dark Forest with honour to the other nations, to act as a worthy figurehead of this great people, and as a just mediator between the disputes of your own people?"

"I do."

"Then, Arabella Louise Fornsir, daughter of Arathorn Jorasan, I crown you Queen Arabella I of the Dark Forest"- Morphous brought the crown down on Arabella's head, and kept his hands on it- "her sovereign mistress and right monarch."

Morphous drew his hands away, and gestured to the soldiers with them. All the soldiers along the walls, and all the weapons-bearing attendants drew their blades, held them in salute, and cried in voice.

"Hail Queen Arabella!"

Arabella gestured gratefully at the crowd, and then rose to be seated on the throne. Then Morphous lifted up the sceptre, knelt before, and offered it to her.

"Receive the Hemlock Rod," he said. "The symbol of your regal authority and your right to command our military might."

Arabella lifted up the sceptre, and then gestured to Morphous to rise. Morphous did, and stood to her left. Then Baron Harold knelt before her.

"Harold son of Kaye," she said, "my eldest son and child. My heir. I confirm thee as my heir, and crown thee prince." Arabella tapped her son on the shoulders with the sceptre, and then placed a second crown, less ornate and heavy than her own, on his head. "Henceforth, let the Crown Prince of the Dark Forest be known also as the Duke of Fornsir."

Prince Harold, the Duke of Fornsir, also arose to tumultous applause.

And so began the reign of Arabella I, better known as Good Queen Belle.
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Postby Formendacil » Tue Apr 05, 2005 6:04 pm

Grid: M-24
Location: Smuggler's Bane cove

It was early in the morning, the sun had just risen over the Classic coastline, and the dew was still wet on the grass. The Old Man stretched up. They were camped off the road, on the top of the great bluffs overlooking the Smuggler's Bane. Behind him, Elwen and Jayko were still asleep, and their horses, tethered, were unconcernedly munching on the grass.

Looking out to sea, the Old Man saw a sleek, reasonably small, but rather beat-up looking old ship anchored off the shoreline. A boat was being lowered off the side, and some distant figures were getting in.

The boat lowered, it made for the cove, easily rowing over the cove entrance that had been the ban of so many ships, and then to the land at the head of the cove.

"Here ya are," said Helga from the rear of the boat, where she commanded with overbearing ease.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Sir Dractor, as he jumped from the front of the boat to the beach. "It was a very smooth ride. I hope you do well in the future."

"Don't worry about that!" said Helga, "with the prices I charge, I will. Have fun! Come back and buy a ride whenever ya feel like. Always a pleasure doin' business with a man of means. Okay boys"- she called to the sailors -"back to the Sea Serpent. Stroke! Stroke!"

Sir Dractor watched as Helga departed the harbour, then turned around to see what he should do next. Then he caught sight of the Old Man, making his way down to the beach.

"Aethelred!" he said. "Good to see you!"

"And you as well," said Sir Dractor. "It's been what, nine, ten months?"

"Since the end of June," nodded the Old Man. "A long time. You have been keeping well."

"Aye," said Sir Dractor. "Very well. It was a wrench when you called me."

"Do you regret your oaths?" asked the Old Man.

"I know what you search for," said Sir Dractor. "It cannot be allowed into the Dark One's hands."

"Indeed it cannot," nodded the Old Man. "But come, we have some miles yet ahead of us, and the Sorceror-king remains ahead of us."
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Postby Sir Drake » Tue Apr 05, 2005 7:05 pm

Grid: Unknown
Location: Somewhere in the Wolf Pack lands

The morning after Swift's father appeared, he left, without Radjar, he thought he would be able to handle the situation alone, he didn't want to trouble Radjar with his own destiny. He had a hearty goodbye with Aaylah, promising her to return and stay with her forever. How he was going to get over the border, he didn't know yet, he was going to improvise.

Now, a half a day after he tricked the border patrols, Swift was wandering around in the Wolf Pack lands, not knowing that Varras allready knew about his presence. Varras was not going to let Swift leave his lands again, now, Varras was going to deal with Swift himself.
_______________

Grid: R-8
Location: Daggerfall Spire

Varras' war had spread from the mainland to the Fell Isle, faster than Ciroal ever thought, his forces stood at the gates of Daggerfall, faster than Ciroal thought the Spire was taken and she was thrown in the dungeons, her own dungeons...

Varras stayed in the Spire since then, waiting there untill his palace that was build in Dagoth Ur was ready.

"Angoth!" he yelled and soon a man stood there, clad in black robes.
"Warp yourself to Hemlock, capturing Aaylah and bring her to me, I've have some plans to take care of"
"Yes, milord" the man said and flashed away.

A few minutes later he returned, he had Aaylah with a tgiht grip in his arms, she tried to release herself out of Angoth's grip, but nothing helped, the man's force was way beyond her's.

"Throw her in our deepest dungeons, double the guards!!" Varras ordered "if she escapes, I'll let one of you idiots murdered every twenty minutes"

Angoth and the guards dragged Aaylah away, while Varras turned and closed his eyes.
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