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Classic-Castle Roleplay: June 2005

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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Mon Jun 27, 2005 5:38 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:Screeching, the twenty or so bat flew out of the confining cage and out a window, all while Opal cried, “Fly, my pretties, fly, fly!”

“What be those for?” demanded Japheth.

“Your spies!” winked Opal, “Your extended eyes!”

“Bats are blind.” muttered Japheth.

Perhaps Opal be not the best choice after all… he thought.

Opal giggled.

“You silly Jaffy, I put a spell on them! Don’t worry, you’ll get your information, cupcake…”

I be sure hoping so, thought Japheth.

Grid: K-13
Location: The Haunted Mansion of the Zolten-Koffkatzski Family

While Japheth waited impatiently for Opal’s batty minions to return, Opal herself went about little tasks, humming to herself and swishing about in her robes. After setting out her powerless crystal ball in a patch of light coming through an arching window to recharge, the enthusiastic aspiring witch went about dusting with a will. With a quiet muttering of words and a quick wave, a sudden but steady gush of air shot out of her wand’s tip. Opal then proceeded to stir up every particle in the mansion while she darted up and down rooms waving her blower-wand and riding upon her broomstick. Sitting on a lumpy and sagging velvet couch, Japheth coughed.

After an insane hour of ‘dusting’, Opal returned to Japheth and chattered away about mindless things such as whether toads and frogs were actually the same creature with different names, and her grueling classes at the esteemed Fright Knight school for witches, Pigpimples Academy.

“They are so demanding, Jaffy, dear, so demanding! A five-page essay on the healing and magical properties of bear’s drool! Droll, cupcake, absolutely droll! And they won’t even let us work with any dragon components, yet! How unfair is that? Scales, spittle, liver, tears, even dung! They say we aren’t experienced enough! Hmph!”

Opal crossed her arms, wrinkled her nose, and pouted. Japheth watched the stirred-up dust settle back down to their former locations.

“So how are you, Jaffy? How’s my favorite dragon warrior?”

Opal cuddled teasingly close to Japheth and flirtingly stroked his muscular chest.

“I be better than normal.” grinned Japheth, pleased finally that Opal had gotten her priorities straight and was now clinging to him instead of her dratted broom.

He then went on to retell an edited (and altered, and highly colored, and skewed in his favor) version of past events, of how he had personally tricked the Royal oaf Clive Baudelaire into giving him his ship the Precious, and how he had saved the entire Dragonsbane Brigade by selflessly flinging himself at the gruesome locknest, and how, because of his exceptional skill as nautical navigator, he had guided the Precious single-handedly to a safe berth, where he directed the repairing of the Precious. Of Ajaxx’s true mission he said little.

All the while he told he mostly fictional exploits, Opal cooed admiringly and snuggled closer, continuing to stroke, murmuring things like, “Oh, Jaffy, heroic!” and such. As Japheth approached the end of his yarn, a high-pitched chittering could be heard, which unmistakably was produced by bats.

“My pretties are back!” cried Opal, and she leapt to her feet.

She hurried to the window, skirts swishing, and called, “Come, my pretties, return to Mommy!”

Like flies converging on a corpse, the hairy, winged creatures dove and flapped through the open window, flying about Opal in circles. Soon the black masses almost blocked Japheth’s sight of her, and the screeching was deafening. Then, suddenly, the bats dispersed, and returned the their cage almost as one, where they snagged a branch, flipped upside down and quieted. Opal, her hair tussled and her skirts a-flurry, returned to Japheth, breathing hard and smiling.

“Lord Void is rebuilding it,” she informed Japheth, “He is rebuilding the Fire Breathing Fortress, on the footprint of the old structure. Slaves are clearing the land, while others mine for fresh stone. He second-in-command, Caimlin, is overseeing the construction first-hand. Lord Void is residing at the Grolling Fortress, with Elsa Byrd, the architect who designed the new fortress.”

Japheth nodded slowly.

“That be explaining a lot…but there’s a lot more I need to know…”

Opal shrugged.

“My pretties can’t find out everything. But!”

Opal rushed upward, disappeared for a moment, then returned, something clasped in her hand.

“Here,” she said, giving the object to Japheth, “It’s yours, honeycomb. It’ll tell you all you need to know.”

Japheth looked at the object. It was a crystal ball, half the size of Opal’s ball. It could easily fit in his pocket.

“Just rub it, and tell it what you want to know!” said Opal, giggling, “You can also use it to communicate with anyone else who has a ball. Just speak the name of the person!”

Opal giggled again.

“Now we can talk every day!”

Japheth smiled and stowed the travel-friendly crystal ball in his pocket.

“Thank you, Opal.”

Opal smiled.

“Oh! Just be sure to set it out in the sun after each use! It must be recharged!”

Japheth nodded, then stood.

“Well, Opal, I must be going.”

Opal frowned.

“Ah, Jaffy, you just got here!”

Japheth shrugged helplessly.

“I must. Ajaxx, you know…”

Opal’s frown deepened, but then she sighed.

“Fine, then. But be sure to call every day, sugar!”

She whipped out her want, and, with a flash, Japheth was teleported back to the outskirts of Port Jozef.
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Postby Formendacil » Mon Jun 27, 2005 6:16 pm

Grid: N-24
Location: Talistrand

Formendacil wrote:Then the wedded couple were escorted with their wedding party out to the open air with a full-dress Cavalier escort. Rice and flowers flew down from above them as the pipe organ marched them out.

"You know," whispered Bernard to Elwen, "I think I'm done being nervous."

"About time," she whispered as they kissed.

It was a long night for the wedding guests...

There was the dinner, and gift-receiving (a very lengthy affair with the number of guests...), and the ball which lasted well into the night.

The following day Elwen and Bernard were kept very busy signing thank-yous and packing.

Packing for the trip to Orion, that is.

"The honeymoon's being put off until after the ball," Bernard told Elbadar. "Which is good since I'm not even sure where we're going yet."

"You leave for Orion on the morrow then?" asked Elbadar.

"Yes, and you?"

"A couple more days," replied Elbadar. "We're moving the entire regiment up. I'm hoping to get a commission at the ball, and it would be advantageous to have them on hand."

"Two hundred MORE visitors?" said Bernard incredulously. "You do realise that quartering them will be near-impossible?"

"I'm leaving them in a village south-east of the city," said Elbadar. "On the road to Chevraport. It's far enough out that accomodations were easy enough to get, but within a day's ride. Halfstare will be in charge while Del Grakken and I are in the city."

"We'll see you there, then," said Quorandis. "Good luck finding a commission."

"We'll do alright. Enjoy your honeymoon!"
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Mon Jun 27, 2005 11:32 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:“What’ve we got ‘ere?” asked the pigeon master.

“Personal letters from Governor Drock.”

“Right them, I’ll send ‘em out right away…”

The pigeon master took the four envelopes and thumbed through them.

“Madame Baradair, Ajaxx Dragonsbane…got quite a list of big folks…”

The pigeon master tied the four envelopes to the legs of four pigeons, sending them flying with a wave of his hand.

The four pigeons almost at once went their separate ways. One turned right around and landed at another location on Monolinious Dracis. One headed toward mainland Dragonar. And the other two flew toward Borianis Dracis. Within a few days the pair had arrived at the abandoned Camp Maurdord. Befuddled, the two carrier pigeons stood there, pecking about at worms and waiting for someone to come and removed their cumbersome messages. At last a wandering merchant came along and found the two wayward birds. With much coaxing and cooing, he was able to capture and cage the birds. When he discovered the envelopes and seeing to whom they were addressed to, he immediately took them both to the nearest town, Port Gordlan-Gordule. One of the men at the mayor’s office remembered that the Commander-General Ajaxx Dragonsbane had expressed intent to sail to Port Firetresses, and so the official affixed the two envelopes to two new pigeons and sent them flying northward. After another week of flight, these two birds arrived at Port Firetresses. The so-called mayor was completely befuddled on what to do with the letters, but by an extremely good stroke of luck one of the Dragonsbane Brigade recruits somehow came across the letters, and took them at once to his commander-and-chief, who was residing in the Royal port of Jozef. And that is how Ajaxx Dragonsbane received a very important letter from the Classic Emperor.

Grid: E-11
Location: Port Jozef


Ajaxx looked up from a chess board and the game he was playing himself with. A Dragonsbane Brigade soldier had peeked through the partially open door.

“Come in, soldier.”

The soldier pushed the door open all the way, stiffened in a salute, then said, “Sir, I was in Port Firetresses when I came across these.”

The soldier held out the twin envelopes and Ajaxx took them. He looked at the seal and the names scribbled across.

“Where exactly ye be gettin’ these?” asked Ajaxx, looking back up at the recruit.

“I got them from the mayor’s shack, sir.” said the soldier, “I heard someone mention Dragonsbane and so I -- er -- listened in, sir. It be seeming two carrier pigeons from Port Gordlan-Gordule flew in with those there ‘velopes, sir. The mayor, he di’n’t know what ter do with them, so he tossed them. And then I, sir, got them.”

Ajaxx scratched his chin, eying the envelopes. They interested him greatly, especially the fact that they had not come from Port Gordlan-Gordule originally. No, the seal of filthy sorcerer Drock was stamped on, as was -- and this was the most confusing -- the seal of the Classic Emperor. Ajaxx debated whether to open them. They could be a trap. He had heard of such things before. Mysterious envelopes, sent by the unknown, claiming to come from high places. Envelopes of death, they were called, for inside them was not a letter but a fine white power, which if breathed or touched would eventually kill you.

Ajaxx fingered the envelopes, pressing the folded bits of paper between his thumb and forefingers. He didn’t feel anything unusual inside. Ajaxx glanced at the recruit, then handed the envelope bearing his name back.

“Open it.” he ordered.

Befuddled but obedient, the soldier did so. Out slipped a single sheet of paper. The recruited looked at it.

“Sir?” he said, as if asking permission to read it.

“Give it here.” Ajaxx said abruptly, “You may go. Thank you, soldier.”

“Yessir, my pleasure, sir!”

The recruit returned the letter and envelope and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Ajaxx unfolded the slip of paper and read:

To whom it may concern,

The Court of Constantius VII, Emperor of Legoland and Overlord of Dametreos, is pleased to invite you to an Imperial Ball, to be held at the Yellow Castle in Orion on July 11th, 2005, C.C.

With the end of the Wolfpack Civil War, and the end of the Royal-Falcon Conflict (2004-5), Dametreos now enjoys near-total peace, with no nations possessing formal stances of aggression towards any of its neighbours, a state which has not occurred, according to Imperial staticians, since 1723 C.C.

It is therefore in honour of this most momentous occasion that His Imperial Majesty is hosting a Ball, for all the invited dignitaries of the Empire and of Dametreos.

The festivities will open with a parade for the edification of Orion's citizens, in which as many guests as desire may partake in. A formal feast will be held for the guests immediately prior to the Ball. Both will be held in the Yellow Castle.

At midnight between the 12th and the 13th of July, a fireworks display will be provided, ending the official festivities.

In the days leading up the ball, and ending the day after, Orion will be hosting an international trade fair, open to merchants from across Dametreos. All guests of the Emperor are invited to visit this, and promote the trade of their nations.

All guests will receive food and lodging free from the Imperial bounty, and will be lodged in the Yellow Castle or in the great estates of Orion.

Trusting that the guest, or his or her delegated representative will be able to attend, I remain,

Julius Hadrianica,
Imperial Steward of the Yellow Castle,

on behalf of His Imperial Majesty,
Constantius VII,
Emperor of Legoland,
King of Orion,
Lord of the House Legonis,
Overlord of Dametreos

Ajaxx set aside the invitation.

This is most interesting… he mused.

At that moment there was a knock on his door.

“Yes?” Ajaxx grunted.

“Ajaxx, I be having news…”

“Japheth! Come in!”

The door opened and Japheth entered. His boots were wet, but he looked pleased.

“Sir,” he began formerly, “Lord Void be bent on rebuilding the Fire Breathing Fortress. He has hired an architect, Elsa Byrd, and her plans be grand indeed. Brigadier-General Caimlin has brought slaved, and they being workin’ on building the fortress. Caimlin be at the construction site, Lord Void and Elsa Byrd be at the Grolling Fortress.”

Ajaxx nodded approval, his eyes glinting.

“That be good, Japheth, good indeed. It be not long ‘fore we strike. But, for now…”

Ajaxx reached over and tossed Japheth the second envelope.

“Be ye wanting to go to a ball?”

Japheth tore open the envelope, read it’s contents, then looked at Ajaxx.

“This be interesting.” he said.

“Aye.” nodded Ajaxx, propping his legs up on the table.

“Ye think we should be going?” asked Japheth.

Ajaxx continued to nod.

“Aye. We be gettin’ close to the Emperor, and that be good. A good time to give him some hints…of the future to come.”

Japheth nodded.

“If’n we be both going, who be managing the Brigade while we be gone?”

“Captain Dolter.” responded Ajaxx without hesitation, “And if’n we be going, then we better prepare now. It be two, three week’s walk to Orion. We be needing to leave on the morrow, and hope we can acquire some horses along the way…”

Japheth nodded, backing toward the door.

“Aye, sir. I’ll be gettin’ read now…”

“Very good.”
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Postby Formendacil » Tue Jun 28, 2005 2:45 am

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Formendacil wrote:"According to Drazzuil, he was," replied Bartavlo, "but Elbadar overrode him. It appears there has been some disagreements between them in the past."

"Thank you, Bartavlo," said Vækadær, moving to end the conversation. "I will keep that in mind." He moved away from the crystal, and it went dark.

"Milord..." the Marquis's voice broke into Vækadær's thoughts. He looked up at Louis Vincentius from his seat in the Marquis's gardens.

"Yes, Commander-General?" he replied. Vækadær only used noble titles for those worthy of it.

"About this... goblet... what do you want me to do with it?"

Vincentius was referring to the infected goblet Opal had given him. Or, more accurately, the enchanted-to-infect-the-drinker goblet than Opal had given him. Vækadær had given it to the Marquis, intending him to use it at dinner that night.

"You were to see to it that it was set before Count Ollero when he dined with you tonight," said Vækadær.

"Why are you so eager to kill off Ollero?" asked Vincentius. "He is only a hapless drunk."

"A hapless drunk who could well propagate his lineage," replied Vækadær sharply. "But I need not explain myself to you." The Tridentine general winced.

"Suffice it to say that Ollero has in his veins some rather potent ancestry, which I do not wish to see ever raised against me. He might be a hapless drunk, but I do not wish to risk things. Of course, I do not expect you to understand such things."

Vincentius curled his lip.

"However," Vækadær continued. "I think I have a better use for that goblet than Ollero."

"Then you don't want him coming to dinner with me tonight?" asked Vincentius.

"By all means, invite him!" said Vækadær, "don't draw any unusual attention to yourself. I'll simply have to dispose of him at another date, probably by cruder means."

"If I may ask, why didn't you just do that before?" Vækadær looked at him in disgust.

"I want no suspicion tied to his death- the time is not yet ripe for anyone to be learning of my plans. And minor though his estate may have been, I might have been able to acquire it if he died a peaceful death. However, I have a more important victim for that goblet than Count Ollero."

"And that would be."

Vækadær paused before replying.

"Lord Marshal Elbadar."

"Who?" asked Vincentius, in genuine ignorance.

"I'll leave you to find out on your own. And be careful how you go about it. I will not tolerate being found out. Enjoy your dinner with Count Ollero."

And Vækadær returned to his quarters.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Wed Jun 29, 2005 11:13 pm

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:“And if’n we be going, then we better prepare now. It be two, three week’s walk to Orion. We be needing to leave on the morrow, and hope we can acquire some horses along the way…”

Japheth nodded, backing toward the door.

“Aye, sir. I’ll be gettin’ read now…”

“Very good.”

Grid: E-11
Location: Port Jozef

Packing to leave took a lot shorter than both Ajaxx and Japheth had expected. Of course, they didn’t have much to take, just a change of clothes for the journey there and their best suit each for the Ball itself. Then there was Ajaxx’s chess set as well, wrapped carefully in smooth leather binding. All of this fit comfortably in two packs, which were slung over two newly-bought horses. Before dawn had fully broken, Ajaxx had finished giving instructions to Captain Dolter, and the two friends were off, riding away from Port Jozef deep into the Dametreosian mainland.

Many miles east, at the Grolling Fortress, Lord Void and his entourage were also making an early start. Riding atop a coal-black warhorse with reigns of gold and black leather was Lord Void himself in his ever-black robes. With his monocle newly polished and moustache and goatee precisely waxed and trimmed, he looked as powerful as he had when he had risen to the Dragon Master throne eighteen years ago. To keep off the beating heat of the sun, he had conjured a bubbled of coolness that just barely surrounded himself and the horse.

Caimlin was not so lucky, and had to deal with the full wrath of the fiery eye by more conventional -- and less effective -- means: a white turban, soaked in water, wrapped around his head. His traditional black dragon-helm was secured behind him on his saddle, but he still wore his heavy armor and sweated and sweated.

Elsa Byrd had forgone a horse completely, and instead installed herself in a bright white (at least it wasn’t pink) litter, and was hauntingly complaining at the four dark-skinned, tattooed slaves that carried it.

In front of Lord Void was an Elite Guard of twenty Dragon Masters, clad in the traditional reds, yellows and blacks. Following behind were twenty more soldiers, ten camels loaded with supplies and enough slaves to manage them. An impressive envoy to be sure. At a healthy trot it would reach Orion in a week, or three or four days before the festivities began.

Four Dragon Masters. Two leaders. Two followers. One destination. And neither pair knew the other pair would be there as well.
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Postby Formendacil » Thu Jun 30, 2005 6:32 am

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

"I know that," Adrian was saying, "but a changed spelling hardly makes a name 'fantasy'. My grandpa spells his name "Adrien", instead of the "Adrian", which I and most others use, but is his name fantasy? Hardly..."

"Well, it's true Malcolm doesn't sound very Dragon Masterish," replied Hans, "but do you have any other suggestions?"

"Not really, I suppose..." said Adrian. "That's just my typical, pedantic nature showing through. Malcolm's not bad, but I think it needs a partner. Either as a first name or a last name. I don't think it should stand alone..."

"Of course..." said Hans, but he broke off.

Hans and Adrian were in the Great Archives, the library of the world, and Hans' habitat. Things were going reasonably well, as Cate had not had time to capture them with any more dancing lessons yet, being quite busy with her wardrobe and other ball-related matters.

So the two bibliophiles had hung out in the archives: reading, writing, and, well, archiving. At the moment they were discussing Hans' plans for the epic he was trying to write.

However, Hans broke off as a figure stepped out from around a bookshelf, and broke into a big smile at the sight of him. The young archivist jumped up from table.

"Dude!" he said. "Sir Dractor, it's awesome to see you!"

"You as well, Master Lentawl," said the big knight. "I understand I need to thank you for that favour you did me."

"Hey, no problem," said Hans. "Luxus deserved it. Oh, hey! Let me introduce you guys. Sir Dractor, this is Adrian Seojton, a friend from the Leidenheim area. Adrian, this is Sir Aethelred Dractor. I met him during the winter."

Adrian and Sir Dractor shook hands. Adrian winced under the big knight's grip.

"So what brings you here?" asked Hans. "Did you come for the ball? Where on earth did you get an invitation?"

"Bjarn," replied Sir Dractor. "The Emperor sent twenty invitations to Drullen Bell. Quite a few of the Lost Stars company is here: myself, Bjarn, Reno, Shainya, and Voolmark."

"Bjarn's here?" said Hans. "That rocks! But back to the original subject, what are you doing in the Archives?"

"Looking for your help," said Sir Dractor. "I've got a new set of armour, as you can see."

"Yeah, and it looks wicked!" said Hans.

"Anyway, I need a sword to go with it. The smith I got the armour from recommended I try to find a sword from one of the great masters of yore. That's where you come in."

"Me?" said Hans.

"Yes," replied Sir Dractor. "If you'd be amenable to doing another favour, I'd like you to compile a list of the twelve greatest swordsmiths of all time, and any known information concerning the size and whereabouts of any swords they have made."

"Dude..." whistled Hans. "That's crazy! Even the Archives won't have THAT much miscellaneous data on one subject."

"Do what you can," said Sir Dractor. "I just need a spot to start looking."

"I'll do my best," said Hans, "but I'd like a favour in return."

"Name it," said Sir Dractor.

"We need swords," said Hans, with a bit of crafty grin. "They don't need to be something spectacular, like you're after, but we need something that we can wear to the ball, and swing around for fun. Think you can do it?"

"I'll send Thomas around tomorrow morning," said Sir Dractor.

"Thomas?" asked Hans, puzzled.

"My new squire," replied Sir Dractor. "I'd explain, but I promised Bjarn I wouldn't leave him all alone with Marchioness Valerian for dinner, and I need to head out. Hunt me down, if you have the time, and I'll tell you a few new yarns."

With a wave, Sir Dractor exited the Archives. Hans turned to Adrian.

"Isn't he cool?" he asked. "I love consorting with heroes."

"I think I've seen or heard of him somewhere," said Adrian, thinking. "Hmm.... Wait a minute! I know where it was!"


"On a wanted poster."
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Postby Formendacil » Thu Jun 30, 2005 5:29 pm

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Formendacil wrote:"I'll leave you to find out on your own. And be careful how you go about it. I will not tolerate being found out. Enjoy your dinner with Count Ollero."

And Vækadær returned to his quarters.

It was the end of June. Vækadær was leaving the Marquis' villa.

"I will be in the Archives if something urgent arises. Do not seek me out unless it is truly urgent," he told Vincentius as he left.

Vækadær made his way up to the Yellow Castle, and then through the yellow-stoned corridors and halls until he came to the massive tower that was the Archives. He was met by Master Lentawl as he entered.

"Can I help you?" asked the Archivist politely. He was taking a break from cataloguing, and felt like doing a simple task normally left for Hans- when the boy was around. At the moment he seemed to have disappeared somewhere between shelves R-213 and T-67.

"I am looking for a copy of the personal papers of Augustus Alexander Smith," said Vækadær.

"Augustus Alexander Smith..." murmured Master Lentawl, heading over to the ten foot tall, twenty foot wide collection of indexing cards. It was an incomplete system, and always would be, but would likely set him on the right path. He dug through a box of index cards, before looking up at Vækadær.

"Swordsmith in Castleton from 931 to 960 C.C? Murdered by Ekard the Savage in 960- never avenged?"

"The same," nodded Vækadær. "Are his papers here?"

"Hmm..." muttered Master Lentawl. "Copies of the Personal Papers of A.A. Smith transferred from the Castleton Archives in 1004 at the request of Emperor Boniface II. Only copy in existence since the Great Fire of Castleton in 1348. Replaced with new copies in 1733 due to water damage. Old copies since destroyed. Removed from Imperial Archives, without replacement, at the request of the Smiths Guild in November, 1982. Hmm... that's interesting."

"Removed?" said Vækadær quietly. "Without replacement? Who would have done that?"

Master Lentawl was already cross-referencing.

"Head of the Smiths Guild in 1982- Master Harold Brakespear, of Port Crowne. Remained head of the Guild until 1986. The last entry mentioning him- that is referenced- is from August 1987, when he retired from the king's service."

"Thank you, Master Archivist," said Vækadær, turning to leave. "I must track down this Master Harold Brakespear."
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Thu Jun 30, 2005 5:43 pm

Formendacil wrote:With a wave, Sir Dractor exited the Archives. Hans turned to Adrian.

"Isn't he cool?" he asked. "I love consorting with heroes."

"I think I've seen or heard of him somewhere," said Adrian, thinking. "Hmm.... Wait a minute! I know where it was!"


"On a wanted poster."

Grid: J-10
Location: Archives, Orion

Hans, who had been rearranging sheets of parchment, did a double-take.

“Say wha’?”

Adrian shrugged. “Saw it in Leidemhiem ‘bout six months ago. I live in Tols, but Leidemhiem’s where my school is. Anyway, there was quite a ruckus one morning, and the next moment, there were wanted posted everywhere, proclaiming that some persons where escaped prisoners and offering a huge bunch of cash for their capture.”

“Oooh, that.” Hans waved his hand dismissively, “That’s when Sir Dractor and his friends were fleein’ the Sorcerer-King’s minions. Sir Dractor told me.”

“Crusaders aren’t Sorcerer-King’s minions!” retorted Adrian hotly, not quite sure who or what the Sorcerer-King was, but pretty certain that he (it?) was an evil wizard. Evil wizards loved to have cool-sounding names: Lord Void, BloodVaine, Inion…

“Whuh-evah.” Hans rolled his eyes dramatically, shrugging the event aside, “We have work to do!”

“Aye.” nodded Adrian agreeably, “Let’s do some digging!”

Several days later and loaded with notes and references hastily scribbled, the two teenage intellects stumbled their way out of the Archives Chamber and down a secondary hallway connecting the Chamber to the rest of the Yellow Castle.

“Halt!” ordered a guard clad in the purples and golds of an Imperial Cavalier, “This is a restricted area for the Emperor’s royal guests. Run along, lads.”

Shifting his papers awkwardly, Hans produced a badge of some sort and waved it at the guard.

“Junior Archiver Hans Lentawl.” Hans muttered, “And this is my friend, Adrian Seotjon. Let us pass, man!”

The Cavalier harrumphed.

“This little token won’t get you anywhere, page-boy.” he sneered, “Only those with invitations from the Emperor himself can pass.”

“Page-boy?!?!“ cried Hans angrily, “I was able to go this way every day!”

Adrian said nothing, looking back and forth between his friend and the Cavalier and wondering whether it would have just been easier (and safer) to take the long way around.

“A matter of national security!” snapped the Cavalier, “We don’t want terrorists sneaking in and massacring all the guests.”

“I’m Hans Lentawl, you kettle-headed numb-skull! I’ve walked these passages since I was six! Let us pass!”

“Is there a problem?” cut in a calm voice.

Sir Dractor walked onto the scene, fully clad in his impressive armor and carrying not one, but two swords. The big knight glanced at the Cavalier and then at the two teens.

“What’s going one here?” he asked, stepping up to the Cavalier. He was over foot taller.

“Er..” fumbled the Cavalier, “These young hooligans think they can just barge their way into--”

Sir Dractor glanced at Hans and Adrian again, an amused look on his face. The slightly shorter Hans, his face angry and breathing hard, and Adrian, taller of the two, standing there, not saying word.

“These are my friends.” said Sir Dractor, drawing out a rumbled piece of parchment.

He handed it to the Cavalier silently and stared down at the man while the Cavalier nervously read the Emperor’s invitation.

“Very good, sir.” the Cavalier nodded, then stepped away, clutching his pike nervously.

“Come along.” motioned Sir Dractor, and Hans and Adrian scurried after the big knight.

When they were around the corner, Sir Dractor burst out laughing.

“You two! Terrorists!” he chuckled, leaning against a yellow-embossed wall, “I pity these soldiers, forced to fret about every minor occurrence…”

He looked at the stacks of paper both adolescents carried.

“Goodness, you found all that in just a few days?”

“We stopped when our hands cramped up.” said Adrian.

“I’m much obliged.” said Sir Dractor, now leading them to his chamber, “Scholar I am not. I couldn’t stand spending hours on end researching swords.”

Hans and Adrian dumped their loads on a small desk in Sir Dractor’s cramped room and then drew out some select sheets each.

“There’s, like, a huge ton of magical and legendary swords out there.” said Hans, “Seems every time some knight in shining armor chops off some evil dude’s head with a blade, the sword is deemed legendary.”

“Even broken swords are legendary.” added Adrian, “There’s an old tale about a son of a great war hero -- whose name is forgotten -- who chops off the finger of some sorcerer with his dead father’s shattered blade, thus ending the war and saving the world. After that, however, he gets seduced by a piece of jewelry and is killed. Then jewelry falls into a river and is lost for ages until a short person finds it and --”

“Adrian.” Hans nudged him “You’re getting off-topic.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Anyway,” Hans continued, “All the swords here on these pages are your best bet. All the others are lost, or locked away, or broken, or maybe never even existed.”

Sir Dractor took the two pages Adrian handed over and glanced over the list of twenty-three swords.

“Barkbite, sword of Conan Grimtongue. Gwynnndae, sword of Lady Hermione Leon Lionadais. Truth, sword of Prime Minister Drakko.”

Sir Dractor looked up. “Drakko? He has such a sword?”

Hans nodded.

“Recorded right here in the Archives. Says before he joined a renegade group that called themselves the Misfits, Sir Drakko, as he was then, saved a unicorn from death buy fighting off orcs and rescuing the beast from a pit. As a gift, the unicorn gave Drakko the Sword Of Truth, which only allows the wielder to use it for good deeds.”

“Interesting.” murmured Sir Dractor, glancing back at the sheet, “My thanks, lads.”

“No prob’em, man.”

“Not at all.”

“Now,” continued Sir Dractor, turned toward his small bunk and picking up the two sheathed swords, “Here you go.”

He tossed them and Hans and Adrian, not expected such and abrupt gesture, fumbled to catch the swords. Adrian managed to do so, pulling the sword close to his chest like a ball. Hans’ sword danced just out of fingers reach and clattered to the floor. Sir Dractor burst out laughing again.

“You’d better keep those sheathed, lest you hurt yourselves.”

“Ha-ha.” said Hans sarcastically, bending over to retrieve his sword.

With some help from Sir Dractor, Hans and Adrian managed to get the sheaths attached to their belts.

“There.” said Sir Dractor at last, “That should do it.”

He looked at the two teens.

“Now…” he said, one eyebrow arched, “Where did you get invitations to the ball? Get them directly from the Emperor?”

“…that’s right!” fumbled Hans.

Sir Dractor chuckled again.

“As you say. See you both at the ball, or sooner, I hope.”

“Right on.”

“Will do.”

As Hans and Adrian left Sir Dractor’s quarters, Adrian muttered, “That was a bit awkward.”

“And embarrassing.” nodded Hands, worriedly patting his scabbard, “I need to work on my sword skills.”

“I was referring to the invitation bit.” said Adrian dryly.

“Oh…right…well, if anyone finds out, we can always just blame it on Cate.”

Adrian frowned. “Somehow I have a feeling that wouldn’t work.”
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Postby Sir Kohran » Thu Jun 30, 2005 6:41 pm

"In the name of King Leo, I order you to submit!"

Solesstorn didn't answer. Instead, he raised his iron staff, pointing it at the red-tuniced captain.

"I advise you to let me by, my friend, or you'll find yourself in a most unpleasant condition."

Grid: P-19
Location: Western Knights' Kingdom coast

The captain did not budge under Solesstorn's proclamation. "Bah! I hear that threat every day of the week. Now move along with us!"

Solesstorn raised his iron staff, focusing his power on the soldiers surrounding him. He built up his will, his power, his magic...


Solesstorn paused momentarily. Why?

Because you need to establish some good relations here, and blowing out the brains of the the first people you meet all over the place is not the way forward. So let it lie for now. We both know that you can get out of whatever jail these people put you in, if not with your tongue, than your staff.

He sighed, clearly unimpressed with the idea. Whatever you say, Master.

The answer was simple.


And with that, he was gone.

"I hate it when he does that," Solesstorn muttered, as he relented his mana.

"Come on then, show us your tricks! Or are you bluffing?" the captain cried, completely oblivious to the previous conversation.

Sighing, the young wizard let his staff droop wordlessly. In a flash, two Knights' Kingdom guards grabbed him.

The captain chuckled. "We'll have you up for questioning tommorow, maybe," he said, "But until then, you can have a little nap in the dungeon!"

Irritably, Solesstorn let the guards pull him away, towards a keep that dominated the smal ltown below.
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Postby Robin Hood » Thu Jun 30, 2005 10:58 pm

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton (One last time)

Kjeld's room had been left alone since his death. Not a piece of glass, or bit of furniture had moved. Lego hadn't even had the blood cleaned up.

It was, Aiden thought, one of the less appealing places he had been in. Looking at the dried blood on the floor would have sent a lesser man shivering away. Aiden merely felt slight sick.

As Robert led him and Kae-Os into the dead king's room, the guard explained everything.

"-and then he transformed into an eagle and flew out the broken window."

"Indeed," muttered Kae-Os, sounding distant, as though talking with himself. "Did the king say it was an eagle?"

"Yes he did, no that I think about it, his majesty said a hawk, not an eagle. Though I fail to see any difference."

"If we ever see him in hawk form, the difference will be very great." Answered Kae-Os. "If we just shoot a plain eagle out of the sky, the shapeshifter will still be on the loose."

While Robert thought this out, Aiden gestured to his companion. Lying on the floor, in one of the larger areas of blood, was Lego's sword.

Kae-Os went over, and bent toward the sword. He bent so far that his face was only a few inches from the floor. The elf's eyes glazed over and his body relaxed. He might have fell right onto the floor, but Aiden, being used to his friend's ways, grabbed the elf and steadied him.

In a second, Kae-Os' eyes refocused and he straitened up. Turning to Aiden he said, "We have him."

Aiden said nothing, but silently noted the use of the word "him" rather than "it".

The elf turned to Robert and asked; "you said the king managed to draw a bit of blood from the killer?"

"Aye," replied the guard. "He said that he made a small cut in the stomach."

Kae-Os reached down and picked up the sword. The bottom half was drenched in dried blood, but the point was relatively clean.

At least clean of dried blood. The top few centimeters of the weapon were soaked in newly drawn blood. At least it seemed newly drawn.

Kae-Os touched a bit of the blood with his finger. It looked like ordinary blood, but it was sticky. As though it had been spilt only a few hours ago. Not weeks.

Lift his finger to his mouth; Kae-Os put a small bit of blood of his tongue. After a second he spit it out.

"Most interesting," mused the elf. He looked up. "That’s it."

He then reached into a pouch and drew out a tiny vial, smaller than his smallest finger. After popping out the cork, he filled it with the some of the sticky blood. When he got enough, he placed the vial back in his pouch.

Aiden then said, "Well, we'll be going now. Be back when we have the killer."

Robert had been watching all this with slight confusion. Now he spoke up. "So that’s it? A small bit of blood and you can track him?"


Robert looked more than a little skeptical. "And how do I know that you will come back?"

"You don't," answered Aiden. "However, its not like we stole anything. If we do never come back, the only thing you will lose will be that bit of blood. And I seriously doubt you need it."

That was true, and Robert saw it. He shrugged and the two other men walked toward the door. Just before they were there, the guard asked, "Out of curiosity, what are you going to do with the killer if you find it?"

"Oh, you know," replied Aiden. He suddenly whipped out his two sheathed sabers, twirled them around in a complicated pattern, threw them in the air while they were still spinning, caught them, and sheathed them. "Take care of him."

He them turned and left, Kae-Os right behind him, leaving a rather surprised Robert behind.
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Postby venvorskar » Fri Jul 01, 2005 1:52 pm

venvorskar wrote:Grid 16-K.
“Now show us the countryside, Erigorn.” commanded the figure in silver.
As the dragon rose into the air, a most surprising thing happened. The dragon spoke, saying: “Yes, Venvorskar.” For it was the dreaded evil wizard Venvorskar, come from another world, to see the land of Dametreos.

The dragon rose in to the air an flew away in to the night. Venvorskar and Stcikle flew until they reached the Fright Forest. When they got there Venvorskar said,"Ah! Here is the site for my next castle. Stickle I will stay here. You bring the others to this spot and set up camp." "Yes master. I will do as you say." Venvorskar dismounted and stood in the clearing as he watched Stickle fly off.
Darkold was out for a walk. Midnight is a strange time for a walk but for Darkold it helped him to think. He passed by a clearing but when he was midway next to the clearing he gasped with fright. A gigantic dragon was landing, two figures climbed of the dragon's back. They held a mutted conversation together and then the figure in red got back on the dragon a flew away. Then the figure in black stood in the full light of the moon. As he stood he seemed to shrink and his clothes changed also. When he was done his looked like a small peasent boy. Suddenly he wipped around to face Darkold. Darkold stared at him, Venvorskar stared back. There was something strange about his eyes. They seemed like twin green whirl pools that drew him closer,closer,closer. Now he could see his face very close. It was huge, but those eyes. He could not pull away. then, when the eyes were filling his entire vision he heard a voice drifing through his mmind saying, "You will forget everything you saw this night, and you will go back to your hut and sleep."
The next thing Darkold knew was that he was lying in his be and the morning sun was shining through his window. He consulted his sundial watch. "Thats funny, It's eleven in the morning. I never sleep this late." Then he remembered his dream. "Hmm, somthing about a dragon, and green eyes. Oh!, too terrible to think about."
"Maybe Midark has some good advice about this dream."
Venvorskar left the forest and headed for the Rusty Sign Tavern.
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Postby Lord_Of_The_LEGO » Fri Jul 01, 2005 8:04 pm

The Classic-Castle Roleplay is continued in this thread.

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