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Classic-Castle Roleplay: June 2005

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Postby Sir Kohran » Sun Jun 12, 2005 9:36 am

He looked up. There, standing amongst the bodies by the mast, stood that same dark figure, staring out at him from beneath a black hood, with perhaps just a hint of sarcasm.

Solesstorn glared back.

Solesstorn really hated ghosts.


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

The ship had reached the shallows, though it was now sinking fast. Solesstorn didn't care all that much, however. He knew he could make it to shore.

He looked back. The dark figure was gone, though Solesstorn knew he was still there.

The Wizard stood up, his black and grey robes flowing around him, and grabbed his iron staff. The keen winds caught his shining bronze hair, blowing it around him. Solesstorn gave one last look at the two crews he had betrayed to the slaughter, and then watched the vessel's progress.

The Bonecrack hit the shore at the same time the water flooded into the ship. Solesstorn jumped down from the prow, and landed on the sand. Looking behind him, he saw the Bonecrack sink away into the depths of the sea. That journey was over.

Solesstorn cast his dark eyes over the shore. Gulls cried overhead; small crabs scuttled over the shore; small boats could be seen on the horizon. He was here.

"So, this is it. Dametreos."

Solesstorn allowed himself a rare smile of satisfaction. After years of searching through the Great Archives of Reandaron, he had finally located the Castle Isles.

Yes, he thought, Master will be pleased.
Last edited by Sir Kohran on Thu Jun 16, 2005 7:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Sir Drake » Sun Jun 12, 2005 12:47 pm

She laughed and took a bite out of the apple.


She threw the apple back and saw Lhorn's bleeding hand.
"That's doesn't look good" she said "you'd better come to my place, it's not that far"
"No, I don't want to bother you with this"
"You're not bothering me at all, I have nothing to do at the moment"
"Well, then, I'm coming with you, by the way, what was your name again?"
"I haven't mentioned it yet" she said "but if you really want to know, my name's Aaylah, Aaylah Jerlock"
"That's a nice name, do you happen to be familly of Fraun Jerlock, the well-known Ranger?"
"Yes, I am his sister"
"What are you doing around here, then?"
"My friend, Swift, had to go to the coronation with some Wolfpack officials, so, I'm here, too. Well, here we are, my house, it's not really mine, but you know what I mean"

Aaylah opened the door and leaded Lhorn in.
"Here, have a seat"
"Thanks"
Lhorn sat and looked around. Some moments later, Aaylah was back with some bandages.
"I'll have to clean it first. Would you please roll up your sleeve"
"Sure" Lhorn replied and rolled up the sleeve of his tunic.
"My, my, you're pretty muscled for a common man, let me guess, you're a soldier?" Aaylah said when she noticed the muscles in Lhorn's arm.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm a member of the Scythian Guard, an elite band of Dark Foresters"
"You're kidding me, aren't you"
"No, I'm not, want to see the proove, want to see the traditional tattoos?"
"I can't refuse that, but show them later, after I've taken care of your hand"

Aaylah continued cleaning Lhorn's hand and finnaly wrapped some bandages around it.

"There you go, finished" she said with a smile on her face.
"Well, thanks, I guess. I'll better leave now" Lhorn said.
Last edited by Sir Drake on Sun Jun 12, 2005 6:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Sir Dillon » Sun Jun 12, 2005 5:59 pm

O-13
Location: a small clearing in some woods


Kor looked at the freshly dug grave and tried to hold back the tears. How could he have let this happen? The boy Shan, who was probably no older then 14, had his life snuffed out.

The tears started to fall.

“No. I won’t cry.” He said to himself. “I barely even knew the boy, how can I be crying over him? Grown men don’t cry!” But he couldn’t help himself.

Kor started to get mad at himself, why couldn’t he have saved the boy? There was only three Shadow Knights, and one of them was wounded. Why couldn’t he save him?

About half an hour later, Cynan came back from the wood holding two dead rabbits by the feet. Kor had gotten control of himself, but he guessed his eyes were bloodshot.

When Cynan saw him, he said in a mocking voice “You weren’t crying over that megablok were you?”

Kor glared at him, but said nothing.

“Come on” Cynan continued “you barely even knew him, and know you’re crying over him. You’re weaker than I thought.”

“Weak!? What does caring about someone have anything to do with weakness?!” Kor voice was weak, but Cynan could tell he probably shouldn’t make him mad, so he treid to change the subject;
“Lets cook these rabbits and eat, I’m starving.”

“Yes, lets.” Replied Kor, “than lets get out of this Tyco land.”
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Postby The Green Knight » Sun Jun 12, 2005 11:06 pm

The merchant turned to Targon with a scrutinizing eye. “Yee’re a strange one, Targon. Aye, an’ that’s why I’m not lettin’ ye out of my sight. Ye know, yeer voice sounds a wee bit garbled taeday. Ifin ye care tae tell me why, I might jus’ let ye go ashore. Why dinna ye step intae me cabin, mister Destructible.”

There was something wrong with Targon. He knew it. He could feel it deep down, but he couldn’t tell what it was exactly. Was he the type who meekly followed orders? Or the type to sit idly by while he was shipped all over the south seas? Two ports they had passed now and Targon was still on this tiny ship with this man who he knew almost nothing about. What was it Smythe had said? Something about the man putting people into trances or something? “Well” Targon thought. “If he’s messing with my mind, I’ve got to fight back.”

“Weel now, what do ye think o’ me cabin, eh? Suren it may be a wee bit small, but it’s snug an’ cozy an’ I wouldna have it any other way.”

Looking around, Targon saw that Taylor was right. Every bit of the walls was covered with shelves and every bit of the shelves was full of trinkets. Some were broken, some half made. And in the corner there was a desk with a box of tools on it. It reminded Targon of a workshop. In another corner there was a stand with dozens of strange musical instruments that Targon had never the likes of. From the ceiling hung all sorts of dried provisions as well as a hammock and in the far wall, directly opposite the door, was a stout, black iron furnace with a little door on it. Targon guessed that this was what powered the paddlewheel and the calliope and he wasn’t far wrong.

“So how aboot that voice o’ yeers? Ye know the name o’ lass what handed ye that scar?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ye’re lucky ye ken that? Most people canna get theer throat slit an’ live tae tell o’ it. But then again…most people canna get theer head split open an’ live tae tell. Ye were lucky I came aloong when I did.” The merchant squinted, looking sideways at the Dragon Master. “Aye, very lucky indeed.”

“Are ya tryin’ to say something?” Targon growled.

Taylor looked away. “Heh, that girl kens how tae wield a piece o’ metal, eh? Aye, she isna brave girl but ye dinna want tae make her mad. ‘course I might be mad meself ifin ye’d kidnapped me.”

The Dragon Master closed his eyes trying to shut out Taylor’s voice. What was he getting at? What game was he playing? How did he know so much? “Concentrate Targon. Make him answer your questions for a change.”

“You—” Targon rumbled through gritted teeth. “What are you getting at?”

Taylor turned back to the Dragon Master, his eyes soft now. “Ye really want tae go ashore don’t ye?” The peddler sighed before continuing. “I jus’ want tae tell ye…tae tell ye not tae waste yeer life chasin’ after that stone. An’ tae remind ye too that ye’ll not always be so lucky. One o’ these days ye’ll find yeerself standin’ at deaths door wishin’ ye’d struck a blow fer the side of good. Chodan kens ye—”

“What?” The Dragon Master sneered. Something snapped inside of Targon at that moment. “Chodan? CHODAN? Don’t bore me with the myth of Chodan! I know the way things really work ‘round here! Who’s really runnin’ things! And I don’t like getting morality lessons from a bloody Mountebank! Oh, an’ about the stone? Don’t even begin ta pretend you know anythin’ about that. Nobody knows what it is— who it is. Not you, not Burtrand… Nobody but me.”

“Weel,” Taylor sighed, “there’s the door Mr. Targon. Ye’re free tae go.”

The Dragon Master turned, and left without a word. But eyes of Taylor Road followed him out and when he was gone the peddler spoke to the stillness.

“An’ ye’re wrong, Mr. Destructible. I ken more then ye think.”
~
Targon jumped over the last few boards of the dock and onto the sandy soil of the island.

“Ah, free again. No more ships, no more bloody women, an’ no more mystical medicine peddlers! Yessir… I don’t care what the rules are. An’ I don’t care who thinks they’re in charge either. I’m gonna get my kingdom and no one’s gonna stop me! But first… First I’m gonna find my rock!”
~
On board the Aterops, Captain Johnson looked over his new recruits. They didn’t look like the honest, steady men he wanted on his ship. But then, most of his men hadn’t started out that way. He’d whipped them into shape just like his captain had done to him all those years ago. Now he’d ordered three of his men into the town to buy supplies and materials. That left him with the rest of his crew and the new men.

“I wish O’Brion was here.” Johnson thought to himself. “Maybe that merchant could give me a better idea of where…”

But as Johnson was thinking this he heard a strange strand of music floating across the water. Turning, he saw the Apple-tart paddling its way out onto the seas. The form of the merchant could still be made out against the water, as he stood by the controls. He was holding some kind of new instrument. A bag like thing with pipes. Or, as Taylor called it, a zampogna.

And the beautiful, deep, melancholy tune of that instrument echoed over the water as the Apple-tart went puffing into the distance.
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...





Ok, enough of that!
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Postby Sir Kohran » Mon Jun 13, 2005 8:22 pm

Suddenly, the door to the inn flew open, and a breathless Talonjay soldier ran in. All the laughing customers stopped instantly.

"The King is here!" he cried.

As if to emphasize the point, a trumpet blew in the distance.

Instantly, the inn exploded into life. Jaythus, Santis and Jayson forgot their differences and dashed outside, with a horde of citizens following them, there to greet King Mathias of Morcia to Barleyburg.


Grid: N-14
Location: Barleyburg

The entire town was full of life. Anxious crowds gathered in the streets. As he, Jayson and Santis pushed through to the front, a large convoy of soldiers and servants dressed in the regal blue of Morcia, flying the royal lion flags of the Castle, marched through the open gates. Jaythus gasped as he spotted King Mathias himself. The lightly-bearded King of Morcia was wearing a shining golden crown and a grey cloak, a dull silver blade hanging on his belt, riding on a splendid white horse, bedecked with a deep blue barding and a matching horse hat.

"That's him, Jaythus," Santis whispered. "The King himself."

Jaythus had seen Mathias on occasion within the Castle, but never like this before. He was still marvelling, when Sir Jayson elbowed him aside, and shoved a peasant in front out of his way and strode out to see the King. He dropped down to one knee, facing the ground. Jaythus and Santis followed, joining Jayson in the road. They knew what Mathias would have to say about it, but respect was important to enforce.

The column of men stopped. King Mathias smiled, before dismounting. He pulled each man up, speaking as he did.

"Come on, stand up, I'm not Lord Void or BloodVaine. I don't need worship."

Somewhat embarrased, Jaythus and Santis stood up, but Jayson was already standing.

"Well, sire, it's good to see you again," Santis commented.

"All good Santis, and I'm glad to see you've got Jaythus along without loosing his limbs. You too, Jayson, you seem to have done a good job of keeping this place together since Jayko's absence. Now, we've got business to discuss in Talonjay Castle. I want to see you all there in half an hour." Mathias ordered, as he returned to his men.

"Well, we'd best get ready, lad." Santis muttered.
Last edited by Sir Kohran on Thu Jun 16, 2005 7:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Sir Dillon » Mon Jun 13, 2005 10:52 pm

O-13

After they ate, Kor and Cynan set out, they didn’t really know where they were going, they didn’t really care.

As the walked along Cynan looked at Kor quizzically and asked;
“There’s one thing I can’t figure out, what did the Shadow Knights want from you?”

Kor looked at the ground for a while, than said simply

“Something they want, that they thought I had, but I don’t.”

“What?” Cynan asked. “I mean, it must have been of great importance…”

“It’s something that you don’t need to know about” Kor cut in “and should not trouble yourself over.”

Cynan glared at Kor, but said nothing. In his mind he was thinking of someway he could get back at him, though Kor had never done anything wrong to him, anger had blinded his right mind.
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Postby Robin Hood » Tue Jun 14, 2005 3:02 am

Grid; G-8
Location: Castleton

The coronation was over. It was the second one that year. While Kjeld’s had been a grand, if cold, affair, Lego’s coronation was the most somber the kingdom had seen for quite some time. Only a select amount of nobles had been present, and afterwards, the new king had made no speech to his new subjects. Nobody was surprised, for they all knew Lego to be in shock.

The king was at the moment sitting in his own room. His father’s room had been left alone by his order.

Robert entered the room. He had suffered almost as much a Lego had. With the killer impersonating him, Robert felt personally responsible. He felt extremely guilty for leaving his post, even though Kjeld had given him permission.

“Sire, the message has been sent to Sir Theodore. Is there anything else you would like?”

“No that’s it for now. You can do the search now.” Answered the new king.

“Very good sire,” and Robert left.

Lego stared out the window. He and his brother had had a long talk about what to do about the killer. They had decided to hire someone to track down and kill the murdered. Someone who specialized in that. Robert, feeling responsible, was going to hire the person.

”Someday, you will pay.” Lego thought toward the unknown killer.
I build, therefore I am.

Brave words coming from a guy called grapenuts.
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Postby Formendacil » Tue Jun 14, 2005 4:56 am

Grid: Q-18
Location: easternmost end of the Fright Knights portion of Kingdom Isle, at Envika Sorgodh.

Vaekadaer returned home.

It was home now. Vaekadaer could scarcely remember a time when it hadn't been, before Sorgodh had found him and taken him from his parents. That had been his home once, that small Black Falcon house, but no more. Now Envika Sorgodh was his home.

And soon it would not only be his home, but his property as well.

For twenty years Vaekadaer had served Sorgodh. For twenty years he had bowed to the wizard's schemes and demands. But as he had grown and matured, his resistance to magic had done so as well. Finally, he knew he could break free of the wizard's immunity spell. And then....

Vaekadaer was no longer a young boy. Nor a young man. He was at the height of his strength and his powers. The time had come to rise in the world, to rise until there was nowhere higher to rise.

He rode over the drawbridge of the Castle. As he reached the far end, the soldiers (loyal to him, and not to Sorgodh. After fifteen years as the wizard's batlord, Vaekadaer had selected every soldier in the castle) saluted, and took his horse, as he went in out of the rain. Sorgodh was waiting for him in the throne room.

"How was your mission, boy? Have you planted my spy in the Imperial Court?"

"Yes, Lord Sorgodh," said Vaekadaer, with a hint of resentment. "He has been planted."

"Excellent, it's about time," said Sorgodh. The old sorceror settled down on his throne with a satisfied sigh. "At last all of the plans I made can be set into motion. The interruptions caused by Lord BloodVaine are ended at last."

"They are going to have to be modified somewhat again," said Vaekadaer.

"What do you mean?" snapped Sorgodh. "My magics have told me nothing of any interruptions. You weren't seen, were you, boy?"

"You will address me as 'milord'," said Vaekadaer, in a tone he had never before taken with Sorgodh. "And the plan went as intended. But it isn't 'your' plan anymore. It is mine. In all the re-contacts I have made, I established their loyalty to me. Not to you."

"What?" snapped Sorgodh.

"You heard what I said," said Vaekadaer coldly.

"Perhaps it is time to remind you, boy, just how it is that I am your lord, and you are my servant." And Sorgodh raised his hand, tapping into a torturing spell that would have wracked Vaekadaer with pain, had Sorgodh's powerful Immunizing spell still held him.

But the Immunizing spell did not. Sorgodh's mighty, twenty-eight year-old spell no longer had the power to resist Vaekadaer's natural magic reflection. As Vaekadaer released his will, his natural defences released, and the Immunizing spell snapped. Sorgodh's torture spell rebounded off Vaekadaer and returned to its sender.

Sorgodh writhed in pain. It was no minor spell he had cast. But he soon through it off, and prepared to combat Vaekadaer, much readier now.

It was still dangerous for Vaekadaer. Powerful as his reflective abilities were, they were not complete, and Sorgodh was a mighty wizard, perhaps as powerful as Lord Void himself.

But Vaekadaer was more than just a wizard-repellant, he was a world-class warrior. Drawing his magical blade Cuthmort, he launched himself at Sorgodh. The wizard threw up a magical shield, but Cuthmort slashed through it as though it were drapery, and sliced at the wizard.

It was a short, if ugly, fight. Sorgodh was a tough old wizard, and didn't go easily, even managing to get a crippling spell under Vaekadaer's reflexes. But when all was said and done, it was Vaekadaer who limped out of the room, and Sorgodh whose head was severed from its shoulders.

"Captain Drazzuil," Vaekadaer called the chief guard as he took possession of Envika Sorgodh. "Clean up my throne room. There is a body in there."

"Yes, sir," replied Drazzuil, with a smile. Vaekadaer's takeoever was met with pleasure by the guards.

Yes, thought Vaekadaer, it was good to be home. And now, it most truly WAS home.
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Postby Sir Drake » Tue Jun 14, 2005 4:51 pm

Grid: R-7
Loc.: Daggerfall

Radjar walked through one of the many dark halls of the Spire. The coronation was over and it was time for the Dark Forest delegation to go home, it was just a matter of gathering his troops now.
He stopped at a certain door and knocked, after hearing 'enter', he opened the door and gave the soldiers the order to pack their stuff.
In just a mere hour, the entire 'army' of Dark Foresters stood outside at the courtyard.
Radjar mounted his white steed, raised his hand and gone they were, of to their homelands again. In a matter of minutes, the group would ride through the torn plains of the Wolfpack, but now they had to ride through the small streets of the city, watching for villeins and other people.

Lhorn sat bored on his horse, he never liked horsebackriding that much. He prefered going on foot, but well, the Prince's call is the Prince's call.

They rode by an inn, when suddenly a woman stormed out, followed by a drunken idiot, trying to kiss her and probably even more than that.

Lhorn heared and jumped of his horse and came up behind the man. He placed his curved, shining, steel knife against the man's throat. The man swallowed and saw the icey look on Lhorn's face.

"Get out of here" Lhorn yelled, kicking the man aside.
"You...hick...foul-" was the only reply that came out of the man's mouth before he fell asleep on the hard cobblestones.
"Well, well, miss Jerlock, what a coincidence" Lhorn said when he took a closer look at the woman.
"Lhorn, thanks, I guess, but don't expect a reward or something now-"
"I wasn't expecting anything, miss"
"Where are you going actually?" Aaylah asked.
"Back to our lands, of course, our time here has come to an end. By the way, how's that friend of yours?"
"Well, he's fine, besides he's not home that much anymore. Lesser and lesser, if you ask me. Are you allowed to stay longer?"
"Sure, Radjar's a great guy, he wouldn't mind. Why?"
"Well, I'll pack my stuff and then we could leave tommorow, I'm eager to go home again, to see Voolmark and my brother again"
"Won't you friend mind that?"
"No, I guess not, I hope not"
"Well, then..." Lhorn said while throwing a glimpse at Radjar, whom was nodding in approval "we've got a deal, I'll come by tommorow, be sure you packed your gear"
"Yes, I'll make sure I packed it"

Lhorn rode to Radjar and told him that he would stay one day longer. After the report, he dismounted, stalled his horse and entered the inn.

(Yay, 260th post :D )
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Postby Formendacil » Tue Jun 14, 2005 5:39 pm

Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

Formendacil wrote:Thomas blew out the lamp, and they settled down to try and get some more sleep. But as Thomas was starting to drift off, he heard Sir Dractor's chuckle.

"You know, I first met the man we are going to see, Lord Bjarn, from the inside of one of his prisons. He was threatening to have me killed if I tried to escape..." Sir Dractor's chuckle died off as he drifted to sleep, but Thomas was wide awake for a while.

What kind of a strange world was it out here?


They had landed in Forestmen territory. The captain had interrogated the prisoner, and found out who his associates were, and had the whole lot of them imprisoned in the brig, pending transfer to a Crusader gaol.

They transferred to a Forestman flatbottomed barge, and sailed into Delvarden Gard on the swamps. The great forests rose up around them, and on the edges of the algae-filled waters some hermit moose calmly chewed on the cud of life.

Thomas was a Forestdweller, but this was new and strange to him. The woods about Drullen Bell were a temperate rainforest, with enormously large trees and a lot of precipitation. Hemmerington had a much drier clime, and the untravelled squire noticed the change acutely.

The barge docked at Delvarden Gard, and he followed Sir Dractor ashore. Delvarden Gard was not large, compared with Orion, Falconis City, Port Crowne, Castleton, or most of the cities of the other nations, and even in the Forestdweller nations it was smaller than a couple, but it was still a city, and Thomas showed every sign of being a gawky country boy on his first trip to the big city.

Or, he would have, if Sir Dractor hadn't led him straight through the city to Drullen Bell Keep. And this was an impressive fortress, easily comparable to almost any in the other realms, and certainly the crown jewel of the Forestdweller realms.

Thomas almost didn't take in the saluting Forestmen as he and Sir Dractor made their way into the fortress. But just enough of his mind wasn't gawking at the massive stonework that he wondered.

"Sir Dractor, I thought you said that you were imprisoned here. How come they're saluting you?"

Sir Dractor laughed. "Thomas, that was a long time ago. Nearly a year. In that time a lot can happen. And has happened. Come along, we need to find Bjarn."

"Lord Bjarn?"

"The one and only," said Sir Dractor, "unless you Dark Foresters have an extra one stashed away somewhere that I haven't heard of."

Thomas didn't even laugh. Things were moving too fast for him. Then someone came and talked to Sir Dractor. An elf! Thomas had heard of elves, naturally, but he didn't realize that there were still some in the League of Forestmen. Sir Dractor was unfazed.

"Good afternoon, Gonderin," he said, addressing the elf. "Is Bjarn in his study?"

"He is," said the elf, "and I expect he'll be wanting to see you. And your companion." Gonderin glanced over at Thomas, with the hint of a bemused smile.

They went on. Thomas was still rather awed, but soon enough they came to a rather small, but well-furnished chamber on the second floor. Opening the door, Sir Dractor gave him a view of a sunlit room with glass windows and carpeted floor. A middle-aged Forestmen, somewhat older-looking than he was, was slowly talking under his breath as he put his words to parchment.

With the quick ears of a tracker, he heard the door creak open, and looked up. A big smile broke out.

"Sir Dractor! Good to see you! Welcome home!"

Home? thought Thomas.
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Postby Sir Drake » Wed Jun 15, 2005 7:13 pm

Grid: R-7
Loc.: Daggerfall

Aaylah packed her stuff, putted on her green top and skirt, knotted her belt and was moving towards the door, when suddenly Swift walked in.

"Where are you going all packed up?" he asked.
"I - I, I'm going home" she replied.
"Yeah, right, all by yourself, don't make me laugh"
"No, I'm not going alone, someone going along with me"
"Who? I demand to know who!"
"What wrong with you, you a-"
"Shut up" Swift yelled "WHO!"
"Lhorn, his name is Lhorn, okay" Aaylah answered, almost bursting in tears.
"You're going with another man? How could, you're carrying MY child"
"Swift, there's some thing I must confess to you. The child, it's...I...V...Varras killed it, when you were gone, he killed when it was still inside of me"
"How could you?"

Swift grabbed his knive and tried to slash at Aaylah, she sidestepped, but her shoulder got cut.
Swift's eyes grew wide and he dropped the knife. He stood shaking on his legs and dropped on his knees.

"What is it Swift, tell me!"
"It's Him"
"Who? Who's doing this to you?"
"Since I killed Varras, He took control over my mind, He's back, after all those millenia, aargh!!!"

Swift lay crawling on the floor, his hands grasping his head.

"Please Aaylah, kill me!"
"No, I can't, I won't"
"Then, run..." Swift managed to say before his eyes started to turn hellish red again.

Aaylah grabbed her stuff and with tears in her eyes, she stormed out of the house and jumped on her brown horse. She rode towards the inn, where she met Lhorn for the second time. Lhorn was just about to mount his horse as she came.

"Hurry, Lhorn, we must go, Swift's gone berserk"
"Then, we must act"
"No, we must not, let's go!"

Lhorn obeyed and together they rode away from Daggerfall.
Last edited by Sir Drake on Thu Jun 16, 2005 6:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Formendacil » Thu Jun 16, 2005 3:59 am

Grid: Q-18
Location: easternmost end of the Fright Knights portion of Kingdom Isle, at Envika Sorgodh.

Formendacil wrote:"Captain Drazzuil," Vækadær called the chief guard as he took possession of Envika Sorgodh. "Clean up my throne room. There is a body in there."

"Yes, sir," replied Drazzuil, with a smile. Vækadær's takeoever was met with pleasure by the guards.

Yes, thought Vækadær, it was good to be home. And now, it most truly WAS home.


Vækadær wasted no time in asserting his rule over Envika Sorgodh. Most of its denizens were loyal to him already, rather than loyal to his dead master, but a smooth transition was always a good idea.

He already controlled Sorgodh's interfactional networks. BloodVaine's attempted takeover of Dametreos had totally ruined Sorgodh's mainly Classic contacts. After the war, he had relied on Vækadær to build the new network. None of the contacts even knew that Sorgodh had even existed.

Vækadær had no need of a deputy, lieutenant, or apprentice. But he did have allies and servants. The chief one at Envika Sorgodh was Andrei Bartavlo, the Batlord who should have inherited Envika Sorgodh after the old wizard's death. But he was a wise enough man to perceive that he could never fight Vækadær, and chose instead to cast his lot in with him. And so he was Vækadær's chief of staff at the castle.

"Milord," he addressed Vækadær was a salute, "the commission you sent to Lady Opal has returned, with her compliments."

"Excellent," said Vækadær, taking the sealed goblet gingerly handed him by Bartavlo. He placed it aside. The time was not quite ready for it.

"Milord, if I may ask, what is that goblet?" asked Bartavlo, eying the object in question a bit uneasily.

"It is a goblet enchanted to give the first person to drink from it a very deadly illness," said Vækadær. "Opal was kind enough to make it for me."

That was the problem with Vækadær, of course. Being immune to most magical attacks, he had the tendency to associate himself with magic and magical users as if he were one of them, since they could not harm him, and he was extremely deadly in normal arts. However, when he thought up something that called for magic, he had no way of creating it for himself. And no one in his command to turn to. Hence, he contacted one of the many sorceresses scattered throughout the Batlands, Opal, and asked her to help him. For the right price, she had.

"What is it for?" asked Bartavlo. Vækadær did not answer him though.

"You do not need to know," he said, chuckling slightly. "Let us just say that it involves this." He handed Bartavlo a sheet of parchment, creased where it had been folded in an envelope. It 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


"Where did you get this?" asked Bartavlo, looking up, impressed, after he had skimmed over it.

"Let's just say that Batlord Durak owes me a few favours," said Vækadær quietly.

"While I'm gone, you'll be in charge of Envika Sorgodh, and I want to you to pass on all messages to me in Orion. The bats will know where to find me. Also, select me a retinue of a valet, five guards, and four servants."

"Yes, milord," replied Bartavlo. "When do you plan to leave?"

"Before the end of the month," replied Vækadær. "I have business to attend to ere the Ball begins."
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Postby Formendacil » Thu Jun 16, 2005 4:46 pm

Grid: J-10
Location: Approaching Orion

Adrian M. Seojton was somewhat lost. Well, not really lost. He knew he was on the Imperial Highway between Orion and Chevraport on the Classic Coast. And he could see Orion coming up over the next rise. Beyond that, however, he had no idea where he was going.

The largest city in Dametreos was coming up fast before him, and Adrian had no idea where in it he was going to find Slacsentius Manor, which was somewhere on the Via Tridentia, past 49th Boulevard, neither of which Adrian had ever seen before.

The son of a fairly successful scribe from the village of Tols, north of Leidenheim, Adrian knew the northern port fairly well, and had travelled all over the Crusader colony at various times in his life, but this was his first trip to the continent. Having just turned 18 and having graduated from school, he was spending his summer travelling parts of Dametreos before settling down and finding a job.

His friend from the year before, Cate Slacs-Sicl had been quick to invite him to Orion and see her family's manor. For someone as pedigreed and wealthy as Lady Cate, this was an unusual friendship, but then, Cate was an unusual lady. About Adrian's own age, she was lively, fun, and not altogether concerned about rules.

Adrian squinted up at the tavern signs as he entered the bustling city. Slightly near-sighted, he had a bit of trouble making out the words, but he wasn't near-sighted enough to justify the expense of a pair of spectacles.

It took him most of the day, getting directions from the local merchants, to find his way to Slacsentius Manor. It was a rather uncomfortable experience for Adrian, who was a bit of an introvert, but he finally managed to arrive.

Slacsentius Manor, the city manor of the Slacs-Sicl family, was an impossing red sandstone ediface, with immaculate gardens and a well-groomed staff. Feeling very much like a backwoods redneck, and very grateful that his normal mode of dress was rather serious, he walked up to the gate, and pulled the bell cord.

An eldery, and very distinguished, butler came to the door.

"Yes?" he said, looking down at Adrian with just a hint of curiosity.

"I'm Adrian Seojton," said he, "I'm here to see Lady Cate Slacs-Sicl." He could see the butler's mind starting to silently comment on Lady Cate's poor choice of friends.

"Come this way, sir," said the butler, and he led Thomas through the Manor, and into the gardens beyond. Kate was seated at an easel, attempting to paint a still life of a rather ugly-looking bowl of mangoes.

"Adrian Seojton to see you, milady," announced the butler with a bow.

"Adrian!" cried Cate, jumping up and hugging a rather embarassed Adrian. "I wasn't expecting you for another month! Good to see you."

Adrian hugged her back, and began to explain about the favourable winds, and good weather, and being done school early.

"Oh, but never mind that," said Cate. "This is perfect. There's a huge ball coming up- people from all over Dametreos. I've got such a good idea about it. Come on!"

Cate started dragging Adrian out of the garden.

"But where are we going?" he asked.

"To the Great Library, up at the Castle," said Cate. "There's someone you've GOT to meet."

"But what about your painting?" asked Adrian, gesturing at the mess of paint already being moved around by the wind. A mosquite was stuck in one of the stickier spots.

"Oh, never mind that!" said Cate. "It's garbage, anyway. Come on, let's go!" And with a dash, she rushed him out of the Manor, and off towards the Yellow Castle and the Great Library it contained.
Last edited by Formendacil on Thu Jun 16, 2005 9:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Sir Drake » Thu Jun 16, 2005 5:22 pm

Grid: Q-7
Loc.: Arekh Agrim, the highest peak on the Fell Isle

Aaylah and Lhorn had continued riding all night and now they were on the Arekh Agrim, the highest hill of the Fell Isle. From here out, a man could see all of Dametreos, every land and every isle, all could be seen by whom who watched from here. Aaylah wanted to take a small break, Lhorn agreed and they dismounted their horses. As Aaylah looked to the south, she saw fire spouting out of the south-western part of Morcia. Lhorn noticed her astonished look and started tp speak.

"The lands of Arkonia. Once, millenia ago, they were the most peacefull plains of all Morcia. But alas, they were turned into a great black, fiery, ashlands by the awesome powers of the Great Sorceror. If it wasn't for the swift reaction of Sir Orlan and his Knights, the Sorceror's greed would've consumed all of Dametreos. All the trees that once stood there, got chopped and thrown in the fires of his furnaces, deep under the ground, in the dim-lighted caves below his black, adamantile fortress.

The Sorceror got vanquished, his soul left his body, but now, millenia long, he finally regained form. He returned to his Black Tower. His vicious creatures are starting to multiplie again, Goblins and Orcs, Trolls and Uber Wolves, the larger 'cousin' of the Bloodwolf kind. Mercenaries and heretic Shadow and Fright Knights are all traveling to there. They feel it, the power of the Sorceror is growing, his black aura goes far, his knowledge of magic is superb. He has his mind set on Dametreos again. The fire and smoke you can see come from his ovens, where he now forges weapons for his army. But more happens there. He performs experiments on humans, not only now, but already a long time, but now he has found a way to create super-soldiers. He calls them Elite Shadow Knights, they look very human, but their strength can't be matched by any man, they growl more than they talk, but their sight is great and their condition is far greater than any of a common man can be"
"How do you now all this?" Aaylah asked.
"I have my connections"
"We must do something to stop him"
"We can't, believe. I've been there. I know happier places than that, it's suicide to go there"
"Then why did you go?"
"I didn't go, I was forced to, but let us not talk about my dreadful past, we should move on"

Lhorn mounted his horse and so did Aaylah, still puzzled about what Lhorn had said. In the west the sun was allready sinking in the lands when the two finally rode away from the hill, of into Dark Forest terretory.
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Postby venvorskar » Thu Jun 16, 2005 7:34 pm

Grid 16-K
It was midnight. The moon had been obscured by dark clouds and a heavy rain was falling. A small ship sailed towards the shore. On the side of it could be read, in very faint letters, DarkCloud. It came up to the shore and a plank dropped out of its side onto the shore, holding the boat in place. A red cloaked figure with a black hood walked out of the ship, to the shore. A rope was thrown to him from the ship. He caught it and tied the ship up to a tree that was nearby.
Another figure came from the ship to the shore. He was in silver armor, but his sword and cape were purple.
The red figure walked up to him and said, “The ship has been secured, my master. We can now head inland.”
“Very good, Stickle.” Replied the dark figure. “Come, Erigorn.” He continued, but not to Stickle.
A jet black dragon with brightly glowing orange wings lifted off the deck and landed on the dark sand beach. The black figure, and his servant Stickle, mounted the dragon, for it was large enough for two passengers.
“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.
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