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Classic-Castle Roleplay: May 2005

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Postby TheOrk » Wed May 18, 2005 2:16 am

L-10 Crusader Land

Kale spurred his horse onward. Deep rumbles came from the sky in the northeast of him. It must be some storm. It gave him all the cover he needed. Even if it didn’t matter, still a Bull knight wasn’t a common site these days. And he had enough enemies as it is.

His his gave a start as jagged lightning arced across the sky behind him. He paused to see it go it’s course.

It struck a tall tree. With Kale’s enhanced senses he almost thought he smelled burn’t ABS. What was that???

Kale shrugged and spurred his horse again. He saw a barn a few hundred yards up ahead. He would have to wait the storm out. Who cared if some farmer tried to kick him out. He had a sword.

Then the rain came. One second Kale was perfectly dry the next he was drenched. “Megabloxing tyco!” He hissed. He booted the barn door. Locked. Kale stood out in the rain for several minutes disgruntled.


A small blast of wind blew the door open. He virtually threw his horse in, but it needed no second invitation. Kale rubbed his eye and flopped down in a haystack.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Wed May 18, 2005 4:23 am

The Green Knight wrote:As such, Caimlin was obliged to hire a crew to employ the finer points of seafaring. This depleted his gold of course, which was held on the other two ships, but he was confidant that he would have enough to purchase the slaves.

Overall he was pleased. It seemed that this part of the journey would be quite uneventful.


And indeed, it was. Quite uneventful. So uneventful that Caimlin almost did a gleeful dance when the slave island Anka Dolour was spotted on the horizon.

“Land ho!” cried the pale Fright Knight lookout.

“At last!” sighed Caimlin, clasping his hands together so the bones cracked.

“Eager to get some slaves?” asked Migal Mordorse.

Migal Mordorse was the Fright Knight captain of the trireme Centipede, the flagship of Caimlin’s little ‘fleet’. He was immensely thin, like a scarecrow, and like most Fright Knights he was very pale.

Caimlin shrugged. “I’m just glad to see something other that endless water again.”

Migal Mordorse chuckled, a dry, rasping noise that eerily reminded Caimlin of bones grinding together.

“Dragon Masters: landlubbers all the way.”

Caimlin didn’t reply. Instead, after a while, he said, “When we reach Anka Dolour, I’ll be going ashore with my Dragon Masters. I’ll be taking my gold, including your pay, with me. Just as a precaution.”

Migal Mordorse put on a frown.

“You wound my honor.”

Caimlin sniffed at the dislikable Fright Knight.

“As I said, a precaution. Us landlubbers are very untrusting folk…”

Migal Mordorse bent his head. “We won’t be going anywhere ‘till you say so…”

Caimlin nodded sharply. “Very good.”
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Wed May 18, 2005 10:01 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Ajaxx Dragonsbane now had a ship. And he hadn’t paid a coin for it.


It had been a week since Ajaxx Dragonsbane had ‘acquired’ the Royal merchant ship Precious. Now he, along with the entire Dragonsbane Brigade, was onboard, sailing north to Port Firetresses. The Precious had successfully navigated the dangerous shoals that pepper the straight between Boranis Dracis and Monilious Dracis, and now she was in the open ocean.

Ajaxx was on deck, watching quietly while Captain Dolter squinted at the pale blue sky through a sextant. Though Ajaxx was a seasoned warrior and excellent battle strategist, he would be the first to admit he had little skill at nautical navigation. And so Ajaxx had appointed Dolter, a trim old salt, to captain the Precious to port. As Ajaxx watched, Dolter lowered the complex instrument, took out a quill, and scribbled something on a scrap of parchment.

“How be she?” Ajaxx asked.

“She’s flying like a dove, sir.” praised Dolter, beaming, “We’ll be making Port Firetresses in two weeks, methinks, if the wind stays at our back.”

Ajaxx nodded in satisfaction.

“Very good, carry on.”

“Aye, sir.”

Dolter tipped his hat and moved on. Ajaxx remained near the helm, leaning against the aft rails. Two weeks. That was sooner than he had expected. Yes, the Precious was indeed a fine ship.

Japheth soon joined Ajaxx on deck.

“A fine day, be it, Japheth.” Ajaxx commented.

Japheth shrugged. “As ye say.”

Ajaxx cocked his head slightly. “What be the matter?”

“Me eye’s itchin’!” Japheth said, his beefy hand clawing at his eye patch, “And ye know whenever me eye itches, there be trouble abouts.”

Ajaxx shrugged. That’s what Japheth always said. Whenever his eye, or rather, the socket that had once held his eye before a wizard had blasted it out, started itching, something bad always happened. Ajaxx didn’t believe it, but in the back of his mind he was uncomfortably aware that a series of unfortunate events had always occurred after Japheth had complained of an itching eye.

“When’d this start?” asked Ajaxx.

“Dunno.” shrugged Japheth.

“Well, a mosquito probably just bit --”

But Ajaxx wasn’t able to finish. For at that moment, the Precious rocked violently from aft to stern, port to starboard. Every man not already sitting was thrown to the deck, included some Dragon Masters who had ascended the rigging. Some came crashing to the deck with a crunch while others splashed into the eerily calm sea.

“MEN OVERBOARD!” bellowed Captain Dolter.

Everyone, including Ajaxx and Japheth, rushed the rails. Lifelines were grabbed and tossed to the five men floundering in the sea.

“GRAB HOLD!” Ajaxx cried as he threw his own rope to the nearest solder, a fellow named Merrik.

Merrik, unlike most Dragon Masters, was a good swimmer, and with powerful strokes he quick made his way to the floating end of rope. He had just grasped it with a exclamation of relief when suddenly he convulsed and the water around him dyed a sudden violent red. Merrik’s eyes bulged and then went blank. His body floated up and everyone on board muttered in shock as they saw that only half of Merrik remained. Below his waist where legs should have been was now nothing but leaking innards. Before anyone could react further a gaping maw surged out of the crimson depths and swallowed what was left of the Dragon Master. Instantly the cry exploded into the air, “LOCKNEST!”

The four remaining Dragon Masters shrieked and churned the water in attempt to flee the great beast, but one by one they were all devoured.


Everyone lurched away from the railing and hit the deck at the same moment the locknest monster slammed it’s great scaly mass against the groaning hull of the Precious.

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Postby Formendacil » Thu May 19, 2005 3:54 am

Grid: J-8
Location: Regga Homestead, Warblewood

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Reno started.

“Prime Minister?”

“It’s a long story…I’ll tell you over tea.”

As Shainya started cooking supper, and putting together two entirely too full sacks of vegetables for them to take home, Reno listened as Bjarn told him all the recent news of the great wide world. Sir Dractor, who had heard most of it, and didn't particularly care to rehash it, went to see if Shainya needed any help.

It didn't appear that she did, but he remained in the kitchen with her.

"How long are you two staying?" she asked, bending over the fireplace, where some loaves were baking.

"Two nights," said Sir Dractor. "Then we need to head back. Bjarn has a country to rule, and I have plenty to do."

"Like replacing your armour?" said Shainya, looking up.

"Yes," said Sir Dractor. "Rodurik has recommended a smith."

"Thought so," said Shainya. "Something to do with fighting, that was pretty obvious. And you're going to want your armour before you do too much of that."

"I'm that predictable?" said Sir Dractor, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm afraid so," said Shainya. "Sir Dractor means fighting, in my mind." Sir Dractor sighed.

"I was afraid of that."

"It's not a bad thing," said Shainya. "The world needs more Sir Dractors, people who are willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of others, to use their skills to defend rather than to hurt. A lot of people would be dead if it wasn't for you."

"Bjarn says the same thing," said Sir Dractor. "But you forget that a lot of people are dead BECAUSE of me. I've killed quite a few in battle."

"Well, from what I heard," said Shainya as she moved the loaves to the table, "you try to wound and not kill, and that's not something that can be said about every warrior. And most of the people you fight in the first place deserve punishment anyway, if not quite execution.

"Look at all the people you HAVE saved. Bjarn would probably be dead if you hadn't been at Orion. He would have never made it to camp. You played a huge part in driving Aezazel away from Drullen Bell, and in defending the Keep against the fire. And you helped destroy the Pendants, saving all of Dametreos from eternal snow. You couldn't have done those things without your warrior skills. From what I can see, there are more people alive because of you than there are dead."

"Maybe," said Sir Dractor, "but I'm starting to wish I had a life outside of the battlefield."

"You do," said Shainya. "Look at us in this cottage! We are your friends, your tender side. You just need to do more of what you do with us. What do you want, to hang up your sword for good?"

"Sometimes," said Sir Dractor. "But not totally."

"Good," said Shainya, "because it's the only thing you know how to do. Don't hang up your sword, Sir Dractor. There are still people who need its help."

"I know," said Sir Dractor. "After all, I am going to see that smith. How could I even hang up my sword if I didn't have one, anyway?"

Shainya laughed, and then turned towards the porch, where Reno and Bjarn were chatting.

"Reno!" she called. "You and Bjarn come in, I've finished the tea. We can have it while I finish making supper."

"Coming, dear," replied Reno.
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Postby SavaTheAggie » Thu May 19, 2005 5:07 am

SavaTheAggie wrote:The bow of the ship dug into the base of the wave, holding it down as the wave crested above it. In an instant, the wave engulfed the ship, blasting it to splinters.

Grid: C-2
Location: Beach on the North side of the Upper Isle - Royal Knights Territory

The sky was clear, the sun shown brightly down upon everything in sight. It was around noon time and the weather was perfect. There was a slight breeze that carried the soft scent of salt upon it. A lone seagull cawed as it flew overhead in search of food. It was a beautiful day to be at the beach.

That is, of course, if you weren't lieing face down in the sand.

He growned as he lifted himself off the ground, spitting sand from his mouth. His whole body ached from the tireless night of swimming. Slowly bringing himself to his feet, he staggered a bit as his joints creaked and popped. A feint odor caught his attention, and looking around and seeing nothing, he sniffed his cloak.

"Fish... I hate fish..." he said in a gravel voice. Taking stock of himself, he wasn't surprised to see very little injury or loss. His rapier was still strapped to his belt, although he was sure the scabbard was full of sea water by now; he'd need to drain it soon lest his sword rust. His bag of 250 gold Ikrosians was still attached to him as well; that will come in handy soon, he thought.

"You alright, stranger?" a voice asked from ahead.

He did not reply.

"Hey, he asked you a question!" another voice spat.

Again, he did not reply. Looking up, he could see two soldiers dressed in full mail standing before him. One was signifigantly taller than the other, but the latter seemed much more muscular and trained. Their armor was clean and well made, but did not cover much more than their chests. A higher ranking soldier could probably afford a full suit with full protection, a far cry from these warriors.

"Kind of odd to take a swim wearin' all your clothes," the tall one remarked, tugging on the stranger's cloak.

"Judging by the smell he must have been doing his laundry," the other replied, laughing.

Once again he was silent, and instead of speaking began ringing out his damp cloak, the sea water splattering off the sand and onto the soldier's boots.

"I think this guy needs to be taught some respect," the short one scoffed. The short soldier drew his weapon, with the tall one following suit.

"You don't want to do that..." the cloaked man growled softly.

The short soldier quickly raised his sword to strike down the Wanderer, but with lightning fast speed the cloaked man whipped out his sword and freed the soldier's sword-hand from his arm. The taller soldier retaliated, but the cloaked figure simply side-stepped the attack and quickly lifted the soldier's burden of ever again having to find matching footwear.

The two men began writhing on the ground, screaming in agony over the loss of their limbs. The Wanderer stood over them, wiping their blood off his sword with his cloak. His shadow overtook them both, and they began to beg for their lives.

"If I don't kill you now, you're going to return to your superiors," the Wanderer growled at them again. As he spoke the two began to whimper and cry in fear of their impending fate. The cloaked man slowly crouched down near them, bringing his face closer to theirs.

"But I have a feeling it was a gang of evil men who did this horrible thing to you. Five, maybe ten men, far too many to defend against," he smirked, raising his hood over his head, "and I was never here."

The Wanderer stood up slowly, sheathing his sword, and walked away.
Last edited by SavaTheAggie on Thu May 19, 2005 9:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby Formendacil » Thu May 19, 2005 6:17 pm

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Formendacil wrote:"True enough," said Elbadar. "I'll be around to say good-bye and pick up the letter. Meanwhile I need to talk to Del Grakken, and pick out my escort. We're leaving on the morrow."

Sir Jayko and Elbadar had arrived in Orion. They had landed on the Classic coast two days before, and had taken the great highway straight to the Imperial capital.

Elbadar, Jayko noticed, was moody. He had been that way since Talistrand. Something must have gone wrong....

"Captain," Elbadar said, "I'm going to Orion to recruit more men, to fill up our ranks. I'm taking Corporal Halfstare and ten men."

"Orion?" Del Grakken raised an eyebrow. "You want to let Classics into the Regiment? Why not just acquire them here?"

"Because I am after Dragon Masters," replied Elbadar. "Quite a few stayed behind in Orion after the war, as you ought to know."

"I do," said Del Grakken. "Meanwhile, while you go gallivanting across Dametreos, again!, who is going to pay the soldiers' wages? They have had regular wages only once in the past year, when we still served Lord Void. Most of the soldiers are broke."

"They have free room, free food, free ale," said Elbadar, "what more do they need?"

"Maybe they want to go out and buy themselves something," said Del Grakken. "Maybe they want to have themselves a woman? How will they pay for those? Quorandis hasn't authorised free prostitutes."

"Nor will he," said Elbadar, his voice getting colder. "And neither should he. It's all very well for you to advocate the soldiers' rights, but how do you propose I pay them?"

"There have been people asking around," said Del Grakken, "people who are looking for some, minor military help, shall we say."

"Why haven't any of them spoken to me?" asked Elbadar. "I am the superior officer."

"Maybe they are... uncomfortable around you," said Del Grakken lazily. "They promise excellent money. More than enough to pay the men, and have a certain amount left over for... the senior officers."

"What sorts of jobs?" asked Elbadar.

"Easy ones," said Del Grakken. "Guarding a slave convoy, maybe participating in a village raid, perhaps taking down a minor lord."

"Criminal jobs then," said Elbadar, disapprovingly.

"I guess you could say that- if you were a Classic. Your friend Quorandis might disapprove, but it's the sort of thing Lord Void sanctioned all the time."

"Turn them down. All of them," said Elbadar. "If anyone wants the services of this regiment, they can come to me. And that's IF I choose to make this a mercenary band."

"Going all soft, are we," said Del Grakken. "I'd think it over, if I were you. Meanwhile, don't forget that the men are starting to want some pay. Leave that too long, and you'll have NO regiment, mercenary or otherwise."

Although Elbadar had left instructions with his men, that they were to remain in Talistrand until he returned and gave them different orders, he was uneasy leaving them. Maybe, he thought, it would have been better to send Del Grakken to get the recruits. But he quickly put that idea out of his mind. He did not want Del Grakken's sort of recruits in his regiment.

They came to the Yellow Castle, towering above the Imperial city. Elbadar led the way to the Cavalier barracks.

"The novice-master's office is that way," and he pointed Jayko down the hall. "Now, good luck. Who knows when I'll see you again. I have to see the garrison commander, and then I have work to do. Farewell."

And Elbadar strode off towards Sir Rillian's office, leaving Jayko to face the novice-master alone.
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Postby lemon_squeezer2 » Thu May 19, 2005 6:50 pm

“It’s all very odd” Hans admitted after a long pause. Randolph had arrived at Orion the night before, just after the library had closed. The next morning he had made his way directly to the building where he had met the young custodian.

“I’ve had strange requests before, but nothing dealing with torn fragments of maps.”

Randolph pressed the teenager again. “But you do have maps - charts, things of that sort here, don’t you?”

Hans handed the fragment back to the Falcon. “Yes we do. Please - follow me.”

The library was a large one. In fact, it was even a bit more then a simple library. While the first floor was dominated by massive ten foot tall shelves, the upper floor was different, containing rows of tables, doors leading to storage rooms of one sort of another, and, as Randolph found out by a directory, a scientific institution of sorts in the sprawling basement. Hans led Randolph through one of the doors, which opened into what seemed to be something of a lounge. In the center of the opposite wall there was a fireplace - unlit, and the mantle above held a decorative assortment of books, held on both ends by ornate endpieces. There were four or so armchairs in front of the fireplace, two of them facing the doorway and arranged around a large but low table where two large and official books lay. Hans explained later that they were the most up to date atlases of Dameteros - one for navigational use at sea, and the other depicting every significant feature on the landmass.

On the right and left hand sides though were a wide array of cubbyholes, each roughly three inches in width and height. Hans look one way and the next, and then made his way to the left, for awhile he looked in a few of the compartments before pulling one of the charts out.

“I think this is what you are looking for. Be careful with it though - it’s pretty old”

Randolph carefully unrolled the parchment. Setting it down on the table, over the two atlases, he looked it over. “The two are exactly alike - at least when compared to the fragment I have.”

“Does it help any?”

Randolph did not reply for awhile, still intently looking at the map. “Yes - yes it does. It says up near the top that it was copied after a chart made by a Jonathan Snipe, of” Randolph stopped short.

“of what?” Hans leaned over and looked at the map.

“It says here that this Captain Snipe was a Crusader.”

“What’s not right about that?”

“Look at the date - 1734. That was around the time the Falcon isles were settled - you probably know that.”

“Of course”

“Well, the Falcon government was - and is, very secretive about anything that might have been of value. That includes maps or navigational aids. Now, if this chart was of Black Knight make, that might make a little more sense. The Crusaders though still had a weak navy at that time, plus they and the Falcons were very much at odds then.”

“You’re saying then that these islands were in a sense owned by the Falcons and they didn't want antone else to know about them?"

"Somewhat - of course it was known the islands were there, but nobody else had yet made any reliable charts of the area."

But what about the Classics? They were the first to settle the southern isles."

"True, but they only settled part of them. The Falcon and Black Knight isles were largely unexplored. Reliable ships were few and far between then."

Hans thought for a moment while Randolph continued to look over the chart. After a few moments he spoke up again.

"I think I know of something that could help you."

Randolph looked up. "What is that?"

"The royal directory in Port Royal - it has several public copies of charts. You might not find it there, but if you could somehow gain royal approval, they might let you access the private collection - the rest of the map might even be in there."

The officer's face broke out in a grin. "Excellent. Thank you so much for your help."

"My pleasure."
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Thu May 19, 2005 7:21 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Migal Mordorse bent his head. “We won’t be going anywhere ‘till you say so…”

Caimlin nodded sharply. “Very good.”

Grid: I-17
Location: Anka Dolour

A day after Caimlin’s and Migal Mordorse’s little standoff, the three triremes, the Centipede, the Barracuda and the Piranha entered the bustling harbor and docked. Caimlin went ashore will his Dragon Masters and the crate off gold, leaving Migal Mordorse and the Fright Knight seamen glowering. Caimlin had never been to the slave island before and therefore did not know his way about, but after cornering a slave trader and handing over several fat coins, Caimlin was directed toward the palace. Once Caimlin caught sight of the grand mansion sitting at the foot of the craggy mountain, he wondered why he hadn’t been able to find it on his own.

It had once been a handsome construction, with gables and wings, stained glass and intricately carved gargoyles. The gargoyles were gone now, and the stained glass was shattered. The great oak doors were black with age and the smoke that rose up from the clogged streets of Anka Dolour. Though the building was originally of Black Knight design, countless warlords and slavers had remodeled and modified it, slowly devolving the mansion into what one could imagine to be a Fright Knight haunted house.

A little apprehensive, Caimlin walked up under the eaves, onto the sagging porch and to the giant doors. He pulled what he hoped was a bell. Nothing happened for a moment, then a resounding ring boomed out from above. All the Dragon Masters, including Caimlin, jumped. It had sounded like a whole chorus of eerie cathedral bells had been sounded. The ringing remained in the sale air for the longest of times, and Caimlin was just gearing himself up to pull the cord again when there was a click, and with a load moan and creak one of the doors pivoted inward. A butler stumped out. He was a pale man with bulging eyes and wavering hands. He had a predominate bald spot, and what hair that was on his head was long and mangled. The man wiped dripping mucus from his filthy moustache and growled, “Whadda ya want?”

Caimlin coughed. “I seek council with Lord Yuri Firetresses regarding a business deal made with Lord Void.”

The butler cackled, a screeching owl-like hoot.

“Firetresses’ dead. Dead for months. King Kendo’s in charge now.”

Caimlin wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.


King Kendo.” the butler corrected.


Caimlin thought for a moment.

“May we see King Kendo?”

The butler, without a word, turned his back on Caimlin and disappeared inside. Caimlin took this as a yes, and stepped inside, gesturing for his Dragon Masters to follow. It was dark inside the mansion, dark like a crypt. Caimlin could barely discern the hunched form of the disgusting butler shuffling ahead. No torches in brackets lined the walls; the only light came through tiny windows clogged with dust. The darkness bothing Caimlin. And the smell. Caimlin was used to many unpleasant smells, he was a Dragon Master after all, but the smell within this mansion, and the whole island for that matter, was beginning to affect his stomach in ill ways.

A suddenly flare of light caused Caimlin to blink. The butler had pushed open a pair of doors, emitting a flood of flicking torchlight. This new room apparently had once been the dining room. Now, however, it had been converted into some sort of throne room-cum-great hall. To the left was a giant man-high fireplace, ingrained with soot, and to the right were tables piled with food. Laid out on the floor was a worn and stained carpet. It had probably once been a grand crimson, but had now faded almost to gray. The carpet led from the doors to the far wall, where a man sat on what obviously was supposed to be a throne. Chained to the throne were two slaves, both females, who meekly grasped bowls of fruit. The man was nothing like royalty, but in the surrounding settings, he fit right in. As Caimlin came closer, he could make out the fine details of the man’s face: the single functional eye, glinting keenly. Opposite that eye, a patch, held in place by a cord. His eye wasn’t the only thing scarred. Half of one ear was missing, and he nosed appeared to have been broken at least twice. And all of his face, and any other part of his exposed skin, for that matter, was laced with jagged scars.

The butler didn’t introduce the Dragon Masters, and so Caimlin was forced to do it himself, improvising as he went.

“Hail, King Kendo. I am Caimlin, humble ambassador of Lord Void, the king of all Dragonar. I had come to seek council with Yuri Firetresses, but as seeing a more worthy man has taken his place, I am honored to seek council with you.”

Caimlin knew he was overdoing it, but it was better to play it safe when one had no idea with whom one was dealing with.

“Void, eh? He wants slaves, I reckon?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kendo shifted. “Then why didn’t ye just go to t’ markets? Why’d ya hafta bother me?”

“Lord Void and Firetresses had made a deal…Lord Void would get a discount on the slaves bought, because…”

Caimlin didn’t think it wise to mention Lord Void and Firetresses had been friends.

“…Firetresses owed Lord Void…something.”

“Firetresses’ dead!” snapped Kendo, “I make no deals. You’ll buys slaves at the price everyone does.”

Caimlin bowed ever-so-slightly.

“Grimes!” said Kendo, “Take them away!”

As Caimlin turned, he saw Kendo tug at a chain and swear. With a dead look in her eyes, the slave began feeding Kendo grapes. Grimes, with a grunt, led the party of Dragon Masters back to the doorstep and slammed the door in their faces.

“Now what?” muttered a recruit.

Caimlin turned to him. “We buy slaves.”
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Fri May 20, 2005 3:06 am

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:“Now what?” muttered a recruit.

Caimlin turned to him. “We buy slaves.”

Grid: I-17
Location: Anka Dolour

And buy slaves they did. Caimlin gave each recruit a bag of gold and promised four extra pints of beer to whoever acquired the most slaves by the day’s end. And so, the buying frenzy began. The troupe of Dragon Masters, spurred by the promise of beer, stopped at nothing to get slaves, including not paying for some. They bribed auctioneers, killed guards and threatened anyone in sight to sell them slaves for an outrageously low price. And so when the blood-red run slid into the western sea, every oarseat on the Centipede, the Barracuda and the Piranha was filled and every manacle clasped around an ankle or wrist.

“Cast off and chart a course for Port Firetresses.” ordered Caimlin as he strode aboard, hands clasped behind his back.

“Now, sir?” asked Migal Mordorse.

Caimlin turned. “You did send a small party aboard and restock as I ordered?” he demanded.

Migal Mordorse nodded slowly, his black eyes locked on Caimlin, “Yes, sir.”

“Then heave to! We sail through the night!”

“What’s the hurry?” Migal Mordorse muttered to himself.

Caimlin heard him. The Dragon Master said loudly and commandingly, “Lord Void does not like to be delayed. Think of the consequences if I informed him his slaves were late in arriving due to a questioning pale-face?”

Migal Mordorse bristled at the slang for a Fright Knight and paled further. He wasn’t a fool. He had heard of Lord Void. He knew what the sorcerer could dish out, whether it be from the Mana or Earth Magic. With a fluid movement, Migal Mordorse took up a bullhorn and addressing the captains of the other two ships, ordered, “Amos, Lancer, prepare to cast off! Follow in my wake!”

Amos and Lancer shouted back their understanding. Migal Mordorse then began shouting at the crew of the Centipede, “Drummers, start up a beat, living now! Whipmasters, get those whips flying, but don’t damage the goods to much. We want them intact for Lord Void!”

Looking like the many legs of it’s namesake, the three levels of long oars began to move, awkwardly at first, but steadier and more in rhythm as the constant drumbeat and stinging whips pushed the slaves into the grim duty of rowing themselves to a fate probably much worse. Slowly, the Centipede backed out of the Anka Dolour harbor, turned about in place, pointing it’s bow northeast, and slowly began it’s way past the island and toward the main. Behind it, the Barracuda and the Piranha followed, lamps on the forecastle and poop deck defining their shapes in the fading light. The trio of triremes slowly retreated from Anka Dolour, taking with the misery and suffering of over four hundred souls.
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Postby Formendacil » Fri May 20, 2005 6:46 pm

Grid: M-8
Location: Approaching Drullen Bell

Formendacil wrote:"How long are you two staying?" she asked, bending over the fireplace, where some loaves were baking.

"Two nights," said Sir Dractor. "Then we need to head back. Bjarn has a country to rule, and I have plenty to do."

Sir Dractor and Bjarn, as said, left the Regga homestead after two nights there, and headed back home to Drullen Bell. They took it easy, discussing their trip, and speculating about their younger friends' futures.

"Do you think they'll stay settled down?" Bjarn was asking. "Reno has always been a wanderer."

"Shainya isn't," said Bjarn. "And Reno is happy with her. I think they'll stay settled down, especially when the children arrive."

"Children?" said Bjarn. "You think she's pregnant?"

"No, not yet," said Sir Dractor. "I'm just saying that I think she will be in the upcoming months... Those two are very much in love."

"That they are, that they are," said Bjarn. "But what about you, my friend, you don't intend to settle down, as far as I know."

"No," said Sir Dractor. "In fact, I intend to be on my way as soon we reach Drullen Bell."

"This smith, this Brakespear, he is in the Dark Forest realm, you say?"

"Aye, on the Fell Isle," said Sir Dractor.

"You'll need to get into the country somehow," said Bjarn. "Their borders are closed too."

"I was thinking that maybe you could use your influence with the Dark Forestmen to get me over their borders. I can catch a ship from their mainland to the Isle."

"I suppose I might be convinced to do something of that nature," said Bjarn. "If..."

"If?" said Sir Dractor, raising an eyebrow. "If what?"

"If you promise to come back and have a visit, a real visit mind, sometime in the next year. And I don't mean a few days or a week, I mean a month or so."

"That's a promise you'll get with no difficulty," laughed Sir Dractor. "But I'll be here a day or two anyway. I'm not going to leave this very night."

"I'll try and get those memoirs written before you get back," said Bjarn, "so don't be TOO quick about it. I'll need to find myself another project after it though..."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Oh, I always have. Or someone else has for me."
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Postby Sir Kohran » Fri May 20, 2005 10:14 pm

Then he and Sir Santis were off, galloping across the vast Morcian country, to Barleyburg, where King Mathias awaited them.

Grid: N-14
Location: Morcian flatlands

Jaythus was tired.

It was now early evening, and Jaythus was glad to set up camp. He and Sir Santis Rufusclaw (preferably "Santis") had ridden for a whole two days across the dusty, shrubby plains of Morcian country, with Santis on his huge brown horse, and Jaythus mounted on his dirty white pony, heading towards the coastal land of Talonjay, where King Mathias would meet them in the town of Barleyburg. Santis, being far more experienced as a knight and soldier, could ride much better and faster than young Jaythus, though he politely slowed his pace to allow the new knight to keep up, as they traversed the hills and fields of the land, he sun beating down on them.

Presently, Jaythus had just finished setting up his tent, in a small gorge beneath a rocky outcropping, a location which would protect them from any wind and/or rain. Santis had gone off to hunt for some "dinner", and had been away for about two and a half hours. In the meantime, Jaythus had busied himself with menial tasks, like securing the horses in a sheltered spot nearby, putting up the tent, and lighting a fire with some old wood. He had also removed his armour and sword, stashing them in the tent, irritated by the clumsiness they caused him.

Now he had nothing to do except toss odd bits of bark into the flames. The sky overhead was a dark crimson orange, slowly turning dark sable. Jaythus sighed, lying back on his cloak. He sat up again rapidly as he saw the great figure of Santis striding onto the campsite, with two dead deer slung over his shoulders, and a quiver of arrows with a bow hanging at his belt.

With a smirk, he swung down in front of the crackling fire, next to Jaythus.

“I see the camp’s in order. Good work, lad. Here’s dinner.” Santis said, as he set down the two deer.

Grabbing his sword from inside the tent, Jaythus began to skin the deer. As he spoke, he realised this was the first time he had used his sword for something other than an annoyance. “Thanks. Now let’s get some of this good meat down us.”

Their meal was soon ready, with the deer turned into tasty bits of red meat, warmed over the fire, and the two knights talked as they ate the sweet red meat.

“So,” Jaythus began, “why is King Mathias in Barleyburg? I’d have thought that he’d just send someone else to meet us.”

Santis thought on this as he took a great bite. “Odd. The King usually stays in the Castle these days. He doesn’t really care about foreign affairs much now. Though, there was some news about some new governor, Jayson or Jaython, or something else happening.”

“Well, I’m thinking it’ll be something important then.” Jaythus replied, picking up a small, juicy piece of meat. Quickly, he changed the subject, not wanting to sound intruding on the royal affairs. “Santis, how did you become a knight? Were you born into it, or did you gain the title yourself?”

Clearly happy to be the centre of attention, Santis launched into his story with gusto.

“It all began when I was just eight years old, in Orkosan. I was in the family barn, carrying some hay for the horses, and then I was amazed to see…”

Jaythus was quickly regretted asking Santis. The knight’s past was far too complicated and monotonous to be very interesting, and Jaythus soon found himself longing to go to sleep, but in respect for the senior warrior, he tried to look like he was listening, which was a rather difficult thing to attempt.

The talking went on for a long while, and the stars had even come out, before Santis finally finished.

“…and after I received the letter, that’s how I came to the Castle. And I suppose you can work out the rest.”

Tentatively, Jaythus began, thankful that the "epic" had ended. “So, er, very good story, Santis. I, um, greatly enjoyed it. Want to get some sleep now?”

To his relief, Santis instantly complied, and settled down in the tent and laid his great form down on a cloak, pulling a fur blanket over himself. Jaythus followed suite.

“Night then, lad. Get some rest for tomorrow.” Santis mumbled as he closed his eyes. Jaythus noticed him place his blue sword near his makeshift bed.

“Right then,” Jaythus answered, pulling his own blanket over his back. “Night, Santis. See you tomorrow.”

Santis was already snoring lightly. Jaythus couldn’t sleep for quite a while, still unused to sleeping out in the open, and not in the soft beds of the Castle.

But soon enough, he slept.
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Postby The Green Knight » Sat May 21, 2005 11:04 pm

Targon reached up and removed his bandages as Taylor went on with his pitch. What he felt was unbelievable. It was his head…in one piece.

As the merchant rambled on, showcasing one particular trinket, then another, Targon began to examine his surroundings. He was on a vessel, albeit a rather small and crowded one. It was a strange sort of scow, with some sort of steering mechanism in the front and a cabin near the back with some sort of calliope in front of it. Behind this –and it was without a doubt the strangest thing Targon had ever seen- was a spinning mill wheel that seemed to be propelling the ship northward.

Taylor fired up the calliope now to aid him in his spiel, but he set aside the fiddle and whatever trance it held over the men onboard faded. Crusaders exchanged intense looks with the surrounding pirates. Targon wagered the only reason they weren’t killing each other was because they didn’t have any weapons. That, and the fact that they weren’t quite sure what to make of their current situation.

Targon wasn’t sure what to make of it either. They were stuck on a tiny ship with a man who was obviously crazy. Either that or maybe just excessively helpful and trusting.

But Targon had little time to think on this for his mind soon turned itself to another matter. “Smythe!”

Sydney jumped and whirled around at the sound of the terrifying voice behind him. “Where’s my rock?” the infuriated Dragon Master asked through his teeth as he bore down on the smaller pirate.

“Now don’t look at me Targon. Burtrand’s got the stone and he’s gone!”

“What? What do you mean, gone?” Targon fumed. Smythe continued to explain what had happened after Targon had blacked out on the Mantis.

“I’d like to get back at ‘im same as you.” The pirate finished. “It ain’t fittin’ fer a cap’ain to leave his crew in the lurch like 'e did. Not that I’m too concerned about finding him right now. We’re in enough trouble right here.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Ye don’t know where we are do ye? This here’s the Apple-tart, captained by the infamous Taylor Road. Aye, he’s a legend among we piratey folks. The one trader who’s managed ta keep his ship from ever being pillaged. Not even once in forty years! They say if ye even try ta get ‘im he’ll whip out his magic fiddle an’ put ye in a trance. Aye, next thing ye know, ye’re singing ‘is tune an salut’n ‘is ship as ye watch it sail off inter the distance. An’ what’s more, after that ye’ll be cursed fer a good month. An’ ye’ll be so unlucky that ye won’t be able to pillage so much as a pile of driftwood. Aye, that’s why my men haven’t been misbehaving er fighting with the Crusaders, even though we outnumber em. They’re scared ya see.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Targon exclaimed. “I think I’ll have a word with our captain.”

But Targon’s word would have to wait for at that moment Taylor hopped down to the deck and declared:

“Land ho! Weeel gentlemen welcome tae Port…eh…Weel Port sompen er other.” The good ship Apple-tart was pulling into Port Sompenerother even as Taylor Road addressed his audience. “This’ll be where ye’re getting’ off me good Mister O’Brion. Here’s a flask o’ me special beer to share with ye’re men an’ a bit o’ foot cream fer ye’re— Taylor leaned in and raised his hand to the side of his mouth. “Weel fer your fungus problem.”

O’Brion raised his eyebrows in shock as Taylor winked and leaned back. “Just a minute.” Said the Crusader. “What about these Pirates?”
Taylor turned on his heel to look at the large group of pirates crowding his rather small deck. “I’ll tell ye what lads, ye can either go with mister O’Brion here an’ deal with the knights o’ Knights Kingdom, er ye can sign on as me crew an’ come with me fer now.”

Peggy looked at Marble-eye as the rest of the pirates exchanged glances. They all knew what their answer would be and so did Taylor.

“Weel then O’Brion I think ye must be gang.” The tradesman said, hustling the crusaders onto the docks. “But before ye go…” and he leaned again, into the crusader’s ear. “Ifin ye want tae find the girl ye’d best ask around here. I ken this here’s where they came ashore but beyond that I canna say. Goo-luck tae ye.”

“Now wait a bloody minute!” said Targon, who had overheard the conversation. “If Burtrand’s here then I’m gettin off too. He’s got somthin that belongs to me.

“Ye would do very weel Mister Targon,” said Taylor Road looking up into the Dragon Master’s eyes. “to not think so much aboot that wee little rock.”

Targon glared. He felt that this pipe-puffing merchant would soon find himself being hurled across the dock and into the murky water beside behind it. This never came about, however for suddenly…something told Targon not to do it and he thought better of it.

The Dragon Master backed off and without another word, Taylor reversed the paddlewheel and set them to leaving the shore.

Meanwhile, on the wharf, O’brion stood scratching his head. What did the man mean “this is where they came ashore”? If he was speaking of Burtrand and the princess it hardly seemed possible.

Now, as he watched, the ship leaving the harbor he caught a glimpse of the captain waving to him and heard his booming voice come sailing back over the water.

“Keep good track o’ that beer, O’Brion. It’s a wee bit o’ a brake-through recipe I designed meself. The first ever made out o’ dried kelp.”

“An’ now,” said Taylor, whipping out his fiddle and turning to the pirates. “ifin ye’ll all take ear, I’d like tae hear what ye think of this new tune I’m workin’ on. Me very own version o’ The Seas o’ Caggarin”

Weel as I sailed out on a bright day morn
Blue an’ bloomin’ were the skies
I chanced to drift some miles from home
An’ found a sight before me eyes

Weel I tacked my ship to the starboard side
Faced my stern tae the land I knew
I asked the mist an’ asked the tide
What is this place that I come to

An they said….
Cheer up me lad
Yet your heart never fail
For ye’ve found the seas o’ Caggarin
Where the bold an’ free do sail

Weel I turned me bonnie ship around
Intae the waves, intae the wind
I gave me pipes a blast o’ sound
An’ sailed the seas o’ Caggarin

Weel I wish me friend that ye could get
Tae the sea where fare wind flies
Where never does the sun there set
Nor darkness ever fill the skies

An’ it’s cheer up me lads
Let your hearts never fail
For ye’ve found the seas o’ Caggarin
Where the bold an’ free do sail
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...

Ok, enough of that!
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Postby Dragoman » Sat May 21, 2005 11:34 pm

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island
Dragoman wrote:Theron then turned and while walking away he said to Arthus: “gather the men; it’s time that I explain things more thoroughly.”

At night fall and while the remaining Shadow Knights were gathering, Theron had gone to what use to be his tent, hoping to find that which had been given to him back at Willensstark. He was somewhat surprised when he found the jar unbroken and none of its contents missing, but he just rationalized it as a thing of some special substance and thought nothing more of it. Immediately after finding it he took the small jar and emptied the Shadow Dust into a leather pouch which he then tied to his belt. After which he went back to the now fully gathered Shadow Knights.

He walked up slowly to Arthus while keeping one hand on his pouch

“Arthus” Theron called

Yes Lord Theron? He answered

“I want you to properly brief and encourage them. They need to hear a voice of someone who they respect not fear.”

“Yes Lord Theron.”

And so with this Arthus then turned and began to address the Shadow Knights:

“Hear me brave warriors!” He bellowed “you came here to this island with nothing but three simple promises: glory, riches, and a chance to protect our way of life. But now I’m going to give you more then just promises, instead I will give you purpose. Listen men and prepare your selves for we have been sent here with the purpose to renew and strengthen our shadow power. We told you before that we were going to the island of Solitaire and so we have, but now I’m going to tell you the secret that few know about this place: It is believe that this island houses the underworld passage to the fiery inferno of Hellecell.

At this most of the Shadow Knights began to shift around in great anxiety for they knew the legends of Hellecell. Others felt the anxiety simply because they recognized that a place that involves the words fiery inferno probably isn’t going to be pleasant.

“What is Hellecell?” asked a Shadow Knights

Well some believe Hellecell to be a lesser realm of the dead” Arthus answered “others believe it’s just a burning place deep beneath Dametreos, but from were I’m standing it’s both. Legend says that there is a dark entity that lord's over Hellecell. This entity known as Shaidar is said to be a most powerful necromancer and fire mage if not a full demon incarnate. It is also said that Shaidar possesses a mighty staff that can strengthen its wielder and inflame the souls around him to do remarkable thing. It is for this staff that we are here. Our mission is to take Shaidar’s staff and transport it back so it can be used to improve our wanting forces thus bring us hope of a new period of greatness.”

When Arthur finished, another Shadow Knight spoke up in a very bold manner:

“Why have you brought us here to die? You speak as if this is a simple task, but I know you have left much detail from your story. Shaidar is more then just a necromancer, and you know it! They say his flesh burns like lava and his skeletal minions are many. He is most powerful and we too few. It is futile to even try, we are doomed, and you fooled us in to coming here and now we will die. How in your mind did you even think that we could even get off this island with no ship!? We are in deed hopeless in this and from this point I will no longer follow Ther…”

Just then the hysterical Shadow Knight felt an unbearable surge of pain in to his back and when he looked downed he found a large black spear point sticking out from his chest and with that he fell dead. Theron then stepped out from behind and poled out the spear from the lifeless knight. The poor knight didn’t even see Theron approaching

“Do any of you know why this one is dead now!?” Theron began with a roar.

“Because you killed him!” answered Arthus frustrated at yet another casualty

“No” said Theron bluntly “It was because he had lost hope! So now let this be a lesson to you all: that whoever falls in to despair is already dead. You all must be fearless when faced with adversity. If not why would I have brought you here? We do this not just for are selves but for our way of life. This one said” pointing to the corpse lying beside him “18 are too few, but I tell you right now that all things are possible if you have faith and courage in your purpose! You Shadow Knights often talk of fate and choice and how they are one in the same; you believe that choice reveals our fate and the fate of others help us to choose. But when the time comes for your fate, will you choose to run? Arthus has told you your purposes and it will be my hope that you will place your faith in that purpose and place your courage in me. I will not desert you to be trapped with that demon. We are going to show that he is nothing when faces with the likes of us. But if my words do not give trust then step foreword so I may slaughter you now and give you a dishonored end."

Either from fear or hope in his words, no one questioned Theron from that point on.

And so that night they left for the cave made of ruby in hopes of finding the Underworld Passage to Hellecell
Last edited by Dragoman on Mon May 23, 2005 8:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Mon May 23, 2005 6:33 pm

Formendacil wrote:"Ah well, all will be fine, young Vikky. Pity about Stormrider though. Would've liked ter have gotten him back personally. Still, he's had his comeuppance. Best move on to other things."

That, it seemed to Viktor, was a wise decision. Lingering would not be a good idea.

Grid: I-17
Location: about ten miles out from the Anka Dolour

"There she be." stated Broadside.

It was three days later.

"What?" asked Viktor. He had not the aid of a spyglass and therefore didn't see what Broadside saw.

"Anka Dolour, of course." replied Broadside, "We'll reach 'er 'fore midday."

"Then what?" Viktor asked, looking back at the Crusader ship behind them.

Broadside shrugged.

"Hopefully the slavers will chase the Aterops off."

"And if not?"

"Then we're in trouble."



Onboard the Aterops, Captain Johnson said, "So, our prey is fleeing to it's slaver allies. I expected as much."

Johnson eyed the distant isle. He knew that if the slavers saw the Aterops and decided to attack in full force, he could not win the battle.

"MacDougal!" he called out suddenly, "Drop anchor, spill wind! Stop the Aterops as quick as you can!"

"Aye sir!" responded the seaman with only a slight hesitation.

"What are you doing?" demanded Rosa.

Johnson ingored her.

"Well?" Rosa growled.

"We are holding back until darkness."


"You shall see."
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Postby Sir Drake » Mon May 23, 2005 8:18 pm

Grid: R-7
Loc.: Daggerfall

It was almost a week since Varras was defeated by now and things were allready changing a bit in the Wolf Pack. Many cities was starting to get rebuild. However, the Throne high in the Spire was still empty, still, the King hadn't returned to his Pack. In the mean time, a council got formed, calling themself the Tribunal, they would control the Wolf Pack untill the King returned. But all that didn't mather anything to Swift, all he wanted now was some rest and some time with Aaylah.

Aaylah was back out of the infermey for two days and was now brushing her hair on the balcony of the house were she and Swift stayed in. It was a rather large house, with a large garden and beautifull decorated rooms. Swift was watching her from the doorstep. Aaylah felt that she was being watched and turned.

"So, the war is over, what will you do now? Are you staying here or will you return to your tribe? For me the choice is sipmle, I wish to return to the Dark Foresters"
"I'll go with you of course, you can't expect me to leave you alone now can you?" Swift said and walked towards Aaylah he grabbed her in his arms and looked into her brown eyes.
"Remember what I told you, so long ago? That, when the war was over, I would mary you? Well then..." he said and kneeled.
"Aaylah Jerlock, would you make me the most happiest man in Dametreos and mary me?" he continued "I don't have a ring yet, but-"
"I don't need a ring, all I want is your love, but I can't do this. Voolmark needs to approve you first, that our way, I'm so sorry"
"You don't need to apologise, I understand" Swift said "as soon as I can get out of here, we'll go to your 'father'"
"Why can't we go now?"
"The Tribunal asked me to stay 'till the King returns, to witness his 'recrownation'"
"I see..."
"Well then, in for a walk in the garden?" Swift asked her.
"Sure, why not"

So, under the moonlight, the two made a walk in the garden.
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