Grid: K-13
Location: Village of Sishara
Cecilya blew her reflection a kiss and giggled. She looked stunning in her new dress. Ignazio had ordered it from Ninjarian lands. It was black and scarlet silk and satin. The cut fitted her body perfectly and showed off her beautiful and alluring figure. Her raven black ringlets framed her stunning ivory face. Dark brown eyes gleamed like two deep portals to the abyss.
"This will be a perfect Yuleball", she whispered to herself with an alluring smile. Her white shining fangs shone against her dark red lips. "Perfect..."
The door silently creaked open behind her and she saw Ignazio in the mirror.
"Ah, my love, you look most beautiful tonight", she said in a seductive voice.
He offered her a gloomy smile and glided forward soundlessly.
"Are you sure?" Ignazio asked in a low and sad voice.
Cecilya turned around and caressed his ivory cheek with her cold fingers.
"Of course, it´s too late to do anything about now anyway. Why don´t you let slip your self-control for once? It´s Yuletide after all."
"I can´t.... I would become...."
"A beast like me", Cecilya giggled.
Ignazio sighed and nodded slightly. Cecilya smiled and kissed him. She let her fangs scratch his lips and he felt his beast stir within as the blood touched his tounge.
With a firm grip he pushed her away and shrugged.
"Why don´t I just kill myself?" He said bitterly.
"Because someone keeps you here", Cecilya giggled. Then she curtsied and walked past him and out of the room with graceful steps.
Ignazio sighed and then he followed.
They had used the Great Hall of the mansion to host the Yuleball. Countless candles were lit and adornments hung everywhere. A huge table had been set up in the hall and about a hundred people were gathered around it. Cecilya winked at Ignazio and they sat down in the seat of honour.
All the murmur in the hall stopped as they sat down and everyone focused their gaze on the two stunning strigoi.
Neither Cecilya nor Ignazio spoke. Cecilya smiled and raised her hand and at once countless servants rushed into the hall with the dinner. The intense smell of exotic spices was so overwhelming that it even made the rank smell of sweat from the villagers fade away.
The guests nervously glanced at their hosts. This dinner was better than anything they had ever imagined but they didn´t dare start yet, they knew how strange their new rulers were.
Cecilya smiled again and winked at a young boy of 14 years.
"Come to me", she demanded in a sweet and alluring voice. The beauty of her features was painful to behold and the boy was entranced by her.
"Closer..."
He stood up and walked towards her. All eyes in the hall were on him but he didn´t see anything else than Cecilya´s ivory skin, dark eyes and dark red lips.
"Closer..."
She caressed his cheek with her cold hand. He shivered slightly at her touch but he didn´t go away.
"Sit down, my beautiful young friend", she whispered.
The young boy turned to the chair closest to Cecilya and gazed at a man in his 30s who sat there.
"Move."
The man looked up at the boy and then he glanced at Cecilya who smiled a very disturbing and feral smile.
The man quickly stood up and rushed out of the hall.
"Very well. Tuck in."
The guests were dumbfounded for a few moments because of her strange behaviour and vulgar language but then the intense smell of the food became too much and they tucked in.
Cecilya smiled broadly throughout the whole feast and surveyed the eating men and women. Once in a while she shot a glance at Ignazio who sat frozen in his chair and just stared at the ceiling. She shrugged sadly but let him be.
Everyone was too concerned about their dinner to care about the hosts, everyone except the youg boy who didn´t touch his food. Instead he kept gazing openmouthed at Cecilya.
Halfway through the dinner she leaned closer to him and whispered:
"These kinds of feasts are pretty boring, aren´t they?"
He nodded fiercely and she leaned even closer.
"What about a walk in the moonshine?"
She was so close the her lips almost touched his ear as she spoke. He nodded again and immediately stood up. Cecilya stood up as well and no one seemed to care. Everyone was too concerned with their own dinner.
Everyone except Ignazio who weeped a single tear of blood as he saw the two walk out of the hall.
It was cold outside and snow covered the ground. Cecilya pretended to shiver from the cold and walked closer to he boy who nervously put his arm around her.
Slowly they made their way through the cold night. They steered their steps toward a small hut rather close to the mansion.
"Let´s get inside", Cecilya said. The boy nodded and opened the door.
They entered the hut which was nothing more than a single small room with a bed and a fireplace. It was completely dark inside.
Cecilya closed the door and everything was dark and silent except the excited breath of the boy. Cecilya sat down on the bed and drew him down beside her.
His heart pounded loudly in his chest and blood rushed quickly through his veins. Cecilya smiled and leaned closer. She kissed him and caressed his neck with her long nails.
"What´s your name?" She whispered seductively.
"Gabriel", he answered in an excited voice.
"Lie down, Gabriel."
He obeyed without hesitation and she kissed him again. Her cold lips sent shivers through his body.
She grabbed his shirt and ripped in two.
"Ah....Gabriel..."
Her cold fingers caressed his chest and she kissed him on the neck. He grabbed her violently and started to tore her dress apart. She laughed.
"Ah, Gabriel. That one was very dear."
He felt her cold skin against his, her lips against his neck and then suddenly something sharp pierced the skin on his neck.
He let out a weak moan of pain before the pleasure came. Passion ran like wildfire through his body and made everything disappear. There was nothing in the whole world except him and Cecilya. Their hearts beat in the same rhythm. Hot blood flowed... he became weaker...
Cecilya stood up and dropped the empty corpse on the floor. She smiled contently and licked the blood from her lips.
The Yuleball had just begun.
Classic-Castle Roleplay: December 2005
-
the_great_one
- Artisan
- Posts: 283
- Joined: Sat Jan 17, 2004 11:58 pm
Grid : J-8
Location : Reno Homestead.
It had been a while since anything eventful had happened in the Reno homestead.
Reno and Shainya had lived everyday as it came, loving each other with equal ammounts, overjoyed that they had each other.
Reno, however, had been travelling his whole life. But finally, he had found peace.
His adventurous life had been eventful. The many adventures, all started with the raising of a glass, and the bitter taste of ale on his lips.
But finally, he was happy.
He was having a baby.
Location : Reno Homestead.
It had been a while since anything eventful had happened in the Reno homestead.
Reno and Shainya had lived everyday as it came, loving each other with equal ammounts, overjoyed that they had each other.
Reno, however, had been travelling his whole life. But finally, he had found peace.
His adventurous life had been eventful. The many adventures, all started with the raising of a glass, and the bitter taste of ale on his lips.
But finally, he was happy.
He was having a baby.
[url=http://www.google.com]Your Greatest Friend[/url]
K-16 Blocktavia Captial of Westernia
(Also known as the Western Knight’s Kingdom to everybody who has time on their hands)
It was the day after Yule in southern Dametreos. Only now had the shipping industry of the Westernians, the Morcians, The Fright Knights and the Black Knights had gotten back to normal. The great blizzard of 04’ had done quite a bit of damage. Luckily, the middle of winter wasn’t the time for the bulk of the fleets to be out. This winter was no exception, the Western Straight was not in the deep south or in the far north. But the region around the batlands had earned a reputation with whole fields of thick ice.
Not a single military vessel in Blocktavia’s collection was out in the harbour today. A few merchant vessels were out an about, but not the usual number. A thick blanket of snow had buried the land, even if it was close to the Ocean. It was the middle of the week so many people were out and about, even if only a few were willing to be out in the bitter cold. Pyriuss sure didn’t want to be.
The Cult didn’t have to much influence in Westernia, mainly due to competent rulers and a competent army. Morcia on the other hand was now covered in a vast spider web. To remove the Cult from there would tear the heart out of the faction. Besides those two, they did have considerable influence in the Batlands, but She-of-the-Barrow didn’t seem to be very supportive of them.
The Cult of Shadows had a tiny coastal outpost hidden a few miles up the coast. Not too large, it only had a single Ocean worthy boat. A week before however, the outpost captain drove it into an iceberg. He had been relieved of his head the next day, but the boat would take several weeks in the repair shop to be sorted out.
While the other ten men in his force were at the outpost, Pyriuss decided to pay Blocktavia a visit. According to his superiors, several merchants in the region were under the Shadow’s influence and would be willing to ferry them across the channel. Pyriuss decided to go search for them himself, besides, not many of the highly disciplined Shadow Knights had clothes to go wandering around in public areas with. It didn’t matter to him, it seemed like a century since he had been to a city. And not even once had he been in one on his own.
He spent ten minutes staring a the great stone castle before he realised people were staring at him. He was soon quite lost in the maze of streets. There were a hundred different sites to see on every street corner. He had been wandering around one particular area for the better part of an hour before he became aware of the fact that he was lost. He asked for directions, but that just made him get lost in a different section.
Once he felt he was ready to scream, a squad of soldiers marched through. Each wore expensive well crafted suits of plate and chain mail that was polished to the point of being mirror like. Each soldier had a sword at his side and a shield with a lion insignia on it. Each one of them was topped off in a kettle helmet. Pyriuss suddenly remembered a moment an eternity ago when he first saw them. His father had a sword like that… Pyriuss shook his head, the past was dead.
While Pyriuss was thinking, one of the soldiers who was reading some parchment, they walked into each other.
“Sorry, about that.” Pyriuss stuttered.
This soldier had a billowing black cape flying around his shoulders and was a foot taller then all the others. He had a well oiled black beard and seemed to look much older then he actually was. “Oh not at all my good sir, it was my fault. Say, you seem lost.”
Pyriuss nodded, “Yep…” He mumbled to himself.
The soldier laughed “Yes, I also found these streets to be confusing. By the way, Sir Richard the Strong at your service!” Sir Richard shook Pyriuss’s hand hard enough to break it off.
“Mine’s Pyriuss sir.” He replied. “Can tell me which direction the docks are in?”
Richard laughed again “Yes I can, we’re headed there now. It will be easier if you just follow us.”
While the group of minifigs made their way through the winding streets, Pyriuss noticed something was bothering the knight. So he just came right out and asked him. The knight shrugged “It’s Princess Storm, apparently she’s gone missing.” He handed Pyriuss the parchment he was holding. It was a wanted poster showing the sketch of the princess.
Maybe it was because he was cold, stressed and hungry or maybe had spent decades living in a hole without the comfort of women, but the princess seemed to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. If she had gone missing, Richard had good reason to worry.
“Aye, terrible business that. King Leo and Queen Leonora put out a hefty sum of gold for her return. I knew her all her life and if anything should happen to her…” Richard never finished his sentence.
They arrived at the docks, Richard and his soldiers had business in the opposite direction so they bid each other good bye.
(Also known as the Western Knight’s Kingdom to everybody who has time on their hands)
It was the day after Yule in southern Dametreos. Only now had the shipping industry of the Westernians, the Morcians, The Fright Knights and the Black Knights had gotten back to normal. The great blizzard of 04’ had done quite a bit of damage. Luckily, the middle of winter wasn’t the time for the bulk of the fleets to be out. This winter was no exception, the Western Straight was not in the deep south or in the far north. But the region around the batlands had earned a reputation with whole fields of thick ice.
Not a single military vessel in Blocktavia’s collection was out in the harbour today. A few merchant vessels were out an about, but not the usual number. A thick blanket of snow had buried the land, even if it was close to the Ocean. It was the middle of the week so many people were out and about, even if only a few were willing to be out in the bitter cold. Pyriuss sure didn’t want to be.
The Cult didn’t have to much influence in Westernia, mainly due to competent rulers and a competent army. Morcia on the other hand was now covered in a vast spider web. To remove the Cult from there would tear the heart out of the faction. Besides those two, they did have considerable influence in the Batlands, but She-of-the-Barrow didn’t seem to be very supportive of them.
The Cult of Shadows had a tiny coastal outpost hidden a few miles up the coast. Not too large, it only had a single Ocean worthy boat. A week before however, the outpost captain drove it into an iceberg. He had been relieved of his head the next day, but the boat would take several weeks in the repair shop to be sorted out.
While the other ten men in his force were at the outpost, Pyriuss decided to pay Blocktavia a visit. According to his superiors, several merchants in the region were under the Shadow’s influence and would be willing to ferry them across the channel. Pyriuss decided to go search for them himself, besides, not many of the highly disciplined Shadow Knights had clothes to go wandering around in public areas with. It didn’t matter to him, it seemed like a century since he had been to a city. And not even once had he been in one on his own.
He spent ten minutes staring a the great stone castle before he realised people were staring at him. He was soon quite lost in the maze of streets. There were a hundred different sites to see on every street corner. He had been wandering around one particular area for the better part of an hour before he became aware of the fact that he was lost. He asked for directions, but that just made him get lost in a different section.
Once he felt he was ready to scream, a squad of soldiers marched through. Each wore expensive well crafted suits of plate and chain mail that was polished to the point of being mirror like. Each soldier had a sword at his side and a shield with a lion insignia on it. Each one of them was topped off in a kettle helmet. Pyriuss suddenly remembered a moment an eternity ago when he first saw them. His father had a sword like that… Pyriuss shook his head, the past was dead.
While Pyriuss was thinking, one of the soldiers who was reading some parchment, they walked into each other.
“Sorry, about that.” Pyriuss stuttered.
This soldier had a billowing black cape flying around his shoulders and was a foot taller then all the others. He had a well oiled black beard and seemed to look much older then he actually was. “Oh not at all my good sir, it was my fault. Say, you seem lost.”
Pyriuss nodded, “Yep…” He mumbled to himself.
The soldier laughed “Yes, I also found these streets to be confusing. By the way, Sir Richard the Strong at your service!” Sir Richard shook Pyriuss’s hand hard enough to break it off.
“Mine’s Pyriuss sir.” He replied. “Can tell me which direction the docks are in?”
Richard laughed again “Yes I can, we’re headed there now. It will be easier if you just follow us.”
While the group of minifigs made their way through the winding streets, Pyriuss noticed something was bothering the knight. So he just came right out and asked him. The knight shrugged “It’s Princess Storm, apparently she’s gone missing.” He handed Pyriuss the parchment he was holding. It was a wanted poster showing the sketch of the princess.
Maybe it was because he was cold, stressed and hungry or maybe had spent decades living in a hole without the comfort of women, but the princess seemed to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. If she had gone missing, Richard had good reason to worry.
“Aye, terrible business that. King Leo and Queen Leonora put out a hefty sum of gold for her return. I knew her all her life and if anything should happen to her…” Richard never finished his sentence.
They arrived at the docks, Richard and his soldiers had business in the opposite direction so they bid each other good bye.
Avatar by Graynar
-
Sir Kohran
- Sheriff
- Posts: 1568
- Joined: Thu Oct 28, 2004 7:24 am
Grid: B-13
Location: Sea, on board the (remains of) the Niflheim
Bekyf Banesbaek was not in the best of moods. Which was unsurprising, really, as he was waist deep in freezing seawater, trapped in a sinking longship, with barely half of his crew left alive, and nothing but the cold, deep sea around and below them.
Bekyf sighed. How had he and his clan ended up like this? Only a year ago, he had been warm and content in his home; the city of Kjellenburg. Now, thanks to the tyco storms, he and his Vikings were separated from their comrades, with several of them near death due to the icy water, and their ship was badly damaged and sinking.
Bekyf stared dumbly around the wreckage of his once-proud longship, the Niflheim.The entire lower level was flooded, and sinking all the time. Bekyf was alone down here, all the other remaining warriors had headed for the relative safety of the top deck, though the unsteady mast looked like it might fall on them at any second. He was searching for the last of the weapons and the supplies, and also to get a last glimpse of his beloved ship's lower deck, before it was consumed by the waters.
"Oh, a curse on you, Thedrikfjörge!" Bekyf muttered darkly. "It was you that brought us this far west to begin with."
However, though he dislikled the man, Bekyf respected him, and secretly wondered if he'd live to see him again.
The grizzled Viking spat in the frigid water, which was slowly but surely rising. Suddenly, he noticed a barrel floating behind the stairs to the top deck. He broke into a tight grin, and padeled over to it, which was not easy, thanks to his water-logged clothes.
He had just grabbed the barrel, which was filled with several daggers, when a voice came down from the upper deck.
"Jarlship! We've spotted a vessel!"
"Hold on, I'm coming!" Bekyf shouted, as he grabbed the ladder and hauled himself back up to the top deck.
Location: Sea, on board the (remains of) the Niflheim
Bekyf Banesbaek was not in the best of moods. Which was unsurprising, really, as he was waist deep in freezing seawater, trapped in a sinking longship, with barely half of his crew left alive, and nothing but the cold, deep sea around and below them.
Bekyf sighed. How had he and his clan ended up like this? Only a year ago, he had been warm and content in his home; the city of Kjellenburg. Now, thanks to the tyco storms, he and his Vikings were separated from their comrades, with several of them near death due to the icy water, and their ship was badly damaged and sinking.
Bekyf stared dumbly around the wreckage of his once-proud longship, the Niflheim.The entire lower level was flooded, and sinking all the time. Bekyf was alone down here, all the other remaining warriors had headed for the relative safety of the top deck, though the unsteady mast looked like it might fall on them at any second. He was searching for the last of the weapons and the supplies, and also to get a last glimpse of his beloved ship's lower deck, before it was consumed by the waters.
"Oh, a curse on you, Thedrikfjörge!" Bekyf muttered darkly. "It was you that brought us this far west to begin with."
However, though he dislikled the man, Bekyf respected him, and secretly wondered if he'd live to see him again.
The grizzled Viking spat in the frigid water, which was slowly but surely rising. Suddenly, he noticed a barrel floating behind the stairs to the top deck. He broke into a tight grin, and padeled over to it, which was not easy, thanks to his water-logged clothes.
He had just grabbed the barrel, which was filled with several daggers, when a voice came down from the upper deck.
"Jarlship! We've spotted a vessel!"
"Hold on, I'm coming!" Bekyf shouted, as he grabbed the ladder and hauled himself back up to the top deck.
-
The Green Knight
- Reeve
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Tue May 18, 2004 3:14 am
- Location: Minnesota
- Contact:
Grid: G-9
Location: South of Orlon
Two weeks after the hermit left Orion and after many miles had felt his footsteps, Gib rested his eyes on a familiar sight. It was not the Neverwood. No indeed, for though that was his final destination, he needed to pick up an old friend first.
The hermit descended through the scattered trees, into the hallow before him, looking for traces of the large lolloping creature. He fumbled with the horn slung about his neck on a cord as he wondered if he should use it. But just as he was about to blow, Gib found what he was looking for.
Tracks. Being fresh, they were easy to follow and soon led Gib into a clump of wild blackberry bushes where he found something brown and shaggy was snuffling about.
The hermit smiled. “Grizzle!”
Needless to say, the reunion was a joyous one. The faithful bear and his master exchanged their usual greetings. Namely, a furry hug and a few words and growls between them
“Griffin?” Gib said, responding to Grizzle’s inquiries into the notable absence of their feathered friend. “Don’t worry about him. I’ve sent him off to find Jackal. They’re going to meet us at the Neverwood. Speaking of which, I think it’s time we headed south.”
Location: South of Orlon
Two weeks after the hermit left Orion and after many miles had felt his footsteps, Gib rested his eyes on a familiar sight. It was not the Neverwood. No indeed, for though that was his final destination, he needed to pick up an old friend first.
The hermit descended through the scattered trees, into the hallow before him, looking for traces of the large lolloping creature. He fumbled with the horn slung about his neck on a cord as he wondered if he should use it. But just as he was about to blow, Gib found what he was looking for.
Tracks. Being fresh, they were easy to follow and soon led Gib into a clump of wild blackberry bushes where he found something brown and shaggy was snuffling about.
The hermit smiled. “Grizzle!”
Needless to say, the reunion was a joyous one. The faithful bear and his master exchanged their usual greetings. Namely, a furry hug and a few words and growls between them
“Griffin?” Gib said, responding to Grizzle’s inquiries into the notable absence of their feathered friend. “Don’t worry about him. I’ve sent him off to find Jackal. They’re going to meet us at the Neverwood. Speaking of which, I think it’s time we headed south.”
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...
Ok, enough of that!
Ok, enough of that!
-
Formendacil
- Knight Templar
- Posts: 4162
- Joined: Wed May 05, 2004 7:22 pm
- Location: Ashland, MA
- Contact:
Grid: I-26
Location: Off the coast of the southwestern Classic isle.
Captain Vronair was waiting aboard the Ragnoir for his master to return. It was three days since Lord Vækadær had gone ashore, alone.
The Isle of Valence, as the southernmost of the three smaller Classic Isles was known, was a sparsely inhabited, rocky and grassy island. In the distant past, it had been more populated than it was now, and ancient ruins littered the landscape. Captain Vronair wasn't a betting man, but if he had been, and if anyone had been willing to take the bet, he wouls have gambled that it was to one of those ancient ruins that the Lord Vækadær had gone.
It was only a few hours after the three-day mark that Vækadær returned to the Ragnoir. His appearance, however, shocked Vronair quite a bit.
The normally neat and well-groomed Vækadær was covered in dirt and ashes. His hair was singed and tussled, and his clothes muddied and torn. Vronair could see various blood stains on his clothes, and bruises on his skin. Whatever it was that Vækadær had been doing, it didn't appear to have gone well.
"Make for home," Vækadær ordered, brusquely, as he boarded the Ragnoir. His mood appeared to be no better than his appearance, and although extremely curious, Vronair knew better than to cross him.
Vækadær descended into his cabin, and drew out his crystal, and contacted Bartavlo.
"Yes, milord?" replied the ambassador, as he received the summons.
"What took you so long?" snapped Vækadær, as Bartavlo had taken about two minutes to respond.
"I had to extricate myself from the Black Knight ambassador," answered Bartavlo. "I'm in the privy at the moment."
"Never mind that," said Vækadær. "We have more important matters to discuss."
"Your mission did not succeed?" said Bartavlo, insightfully.
"No," replied Vækadær, "a member of the Valenti family stills lives. I should have done as you suggested, and confirmed the deaths of Fredrick Arnulf Valenti's family. Get to work on that immediately. Any report from Drazzuil?"
"He is in position, milord," replied Bartavlo, "and is taking his time seeking the papers. Apparently, he encountered some hostility in the village during his last visit, and wants to avoid that."
"Just so long as I have those papers ere Cupid's Day," said Vækadær. "I've waited long enough. Any other news?"
"We've encountered a complication on the Del Grakken front," said Bartavlo. "The fool has received permission from King Ajaxx to rebuild his regiment, but he's become entangled in Dragon Master politics, and is serving as a Brigadier General under Ajaxx. Elbadar and his few men have disappeared, and are apparently enemies of the state, so there is some consolation there."
"Indeed," said Vækadær. "Is that all?"
"That's all of note," said Bartavlo. "The trivial matters will be delivered, as usual, to Envika Sorgodh by carrier pigeon."
"Good," said Vækadær, as he abruptly terminated the telaharm.
Location: Off the coast of the southwestern Classic isle.
Captain Vronair was waiting aboard the Ragnoir for his master to return. It was three days since Lord Vækadær had gone ashore, alone.
The Isle of Valence, as the southernmost of the three smaller Classic Isles was known, was a sparsely inhabited, rocky and grassy island. In the distant past, it had been more populated than it was now, and ancient ruins littered the landscape. Captain Vronair wasn't a betting man, but if he had been, and if anyone had been willing to take the bet, he wouls have gambled that it was to one of those ancient ruins that the Lord Vækadær had gone.
It was only a few hours after the three-day mark that Vækadær returned to the Ragnoir. His appearance, however, shocked Vronair quite a bit.
The normally neat and well-groomed Vækadær was covered in dirt and ashes. His hair was singed and tussled, and his clothes muddied and torn. Vronair could see various blood stains on his clothes, and bruises on his skin. Whatever it was that Vækadær had been doing, it didn't appear to have gone well.
"Make for home," Vækadær ordered, brusquely, as he boarded the Ragnoir. His mood appeared to be no better than his appearance, and although extremely curious, Vronair knew better than to cross him.
Vækadær descended into his cabin, and drew out his crystal, and contacted Bartavlo.
"Yes, milord?" replied the ambassador, as he received the summons.
"What took you so long?" snapped Vækadær, as Bartavlo had taken about two minutes to respond.
"I had to extricate myself from the Black Knight ambassador," answered Bartavlo. "I'm in the privy at the moment."
"Never mind that," said Vækadær. "We have more important matters to discuss."
"Your mission did not succeed?" said Bartavlo, insightfully.
"No," replied Vækadær, "a member of the Valenti family stills lives. I should have done as you suggested, and confirmed the deaths of Fredrick Arnulf Valenti's family. Get to work on that immediately. Any report from Drazzuil?"
"He is in position, milord," replied Bartavlo, "and is taking his time seeking the papers. Apparently, he encountered some hostility in the village during his last visit, and wants to avoid that."
"Just so long as I have those papers ere Cupid's Day," said Vækadær. "I've waited long enough. Any other news?"
"We've encountered a complication on the Del Grakken front," said Bartavlo. "The fool has received permission from King Ajaxx to rebuild his regiment, but he's become entangled in Dragon Master politics, and is serving as a Brigadier General under Ajaxx. Elbadar and his few men have disappeared, and are apparently enemies of the state, so there is some consolation there."
"Indeed," said Vækadær. "Is that all?"
"That's all of note," said Bartavlo. "The trivial matters will be delivered, as usual, to Envika Sorgodh by carrier pigeon."
"Good," said Vækadær, as he abruptly terminated the telaharm.
-
Sir Kohran
- Sheriff
- Posts: 1568
- Joined: Thu Oct 28, 2004 7:24 am
Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island
Santis and his young companion got to their feet.
“No,” Solesstorn said, tightening his grip on his staff. “We must all stay together. Everyone is here for a reason.”
“Even the expendable ones?” Santis asked, a hint of sarcasm seeping through.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“So how did you mean it?” Jaythus demanded. Even he was angry.
“You’ve already lost the two Westerners. Now Viktor’s gone!” Santis shouted. “Who else is ‘expendable’? Hmm?”
“What I meant was that they were expendable to the plan – they have no role to play in it, so I gave them something else to do. Trust me, I learnt a long time ago the value of life.” the wizard added, eyeing his undead hand that was thankfully concealed.
Santis’s eyes darkened, his hand on his sword. Jaythus eyed the wizard uneasily. A tense silence settled. The fire died down. After several seconds slipped by, Solesstorn spoke, once again in his formal, flat tone.
“Come, we must search for Viktor, and Storm and Mikelen. Viktor and Storm both have quick tempers, and I don’t know what dangers this island holds.”
Solesstorn paused for a second then headed towards the forest, his staff in hand, his black cloak concealing him. Jaythus looked at Santis, his expression asking for an answer.
“Let’s go, lad,” the Orkosanian knight replied, as he grabbed his octagonal shield and war hammer, “We’ve got to find Viktor and the others.”
Jaythus nodded quickly, and drew his own sword, gazing at the reflection of the fire on it. Then he ran up to Santis, who was already following Solesstorn into the woods.
He drew his sword and slammed it into a tree, shattering the bark. He gasped irately.
“This is all that intellibrix wizard’s fault, you know,” he muttered angrily, his face turning almost as red as his armour. “
Storm clenched her fist. “Oh, stop your raving,” she snapped. “You’re no better than some of the men that tried to - ” She stopped.
“What?!” Viktor replied. “Tried to what?”
Storm’s bad mood was stifled. “Oh, um, forget it. Now we’ve got to go – we need to find Mikelen!”
With that, she took off, dashing through the foliage, her bright red hair flying over her cloak.
Viktor sighed, then wrenched his sword out of the wood, and took off after her, crashing through the bushes.
***
Solesstorn, Jaythus and Santis were striding through the densely packed trees in silence. Occasionally, Santis would stoop to examine something on the ground, but Solesstorn would merely keep his eyes focused straight ahead.
As he stared about at the thick woodland, and the branches that almost blocked out the sunlight, something strange suddenly occurred to Jaythus.
“Notice that?” the blue-clad Easterner said.
“What?” Solesstorn asked
“It’s completely quiet. There’s no animals. Nothing.” the young Easterner murmured.
“The lad’s right.” Santis remarked. “Somewhere like this should be swarming with critters.”
Solesstorn frowned. “Have you not yet noticed? This whole island’s wrong. The weather, the tide currents, the ‘wildlife’...”
What he was going to say Jaythus never found out, because suddenly a piercing scream slashed through the woodlands like a knife.
“Storm!” Jaythus cried.
At once, Solesstorn took off through the trees, dodging the foliage in his way. Santis charged after him, smashing aside anything in the way, with Jaythus hurrying to stay with him.
Location: Solitaire Island
"Well, that's tyco brilliant, isn't it just?" Santis growled. "First you send off the 'expendables'. Then you get rid of Vik. Now there are only three of us left on this Chodan-forsaken island. I’m getting Vik back, before you decide I’m an ‘expendable’. Come on, Jaythus.”Santis was frowning. Jaythus looked scared.
“I’m going off to find them,” cried Viktor, “and the Wooden Duck help you if you try and stop me!”
With that, Viktor left the camp.
Santis and his young companion got to their feet.
“No,” Solesstorn said, tightening his grip on his staff. “We must all stay together. Everyone is here for a reason.”
“Even the expendable ones?” Santis asked, a hint of sarcasm seeping through.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“So how did you mean it?” Jaythus demanded. Even he was angry.
“You’ve already lost the two Westerners. Now Viktor’s gone!” Santis shouted. “Who else is ‘expendable’? Hmm?”
“What I meant was that they were expendable to the plan – they have no role to play in it, so I gave them something else to do. Trust me, I learnt a long time ago the value of life.” the wizard added, eyeing his undead hand that was thankfully concealed.
Santis’s eyes darkened, his hand on his sword. Jaythus eyed the wizard uneasily. A tense silence settled. The fire died down. After several seconds slipped by, Solesstorn spoke, once again in his formal, flat tone.
“Come, we must search for Viktor, and Storm and Mikelen. Viktor and Storm both have quick tempers, and I don’t know what dangers this island holds.”
Solesstorn paused for a second then headed towards the forest, his staff in hand, his black cloak concealing him. Jaythus looked at Santis, his expression asking for an answer.
“Let’s go, lad,” the Orkosanian knight replied, as he grabbed his octagonal shield and war hammer, “We’ve got to find Viktor and the others.”
Jaythus nodded quickly, and drew his own sword, gazing at the reflection of the fire on it. Then he ran up to Santis, who was already following Solesstorn into the woods.
“TYCO!” Viktor roared. “This is the last thing I need!”“What took you so long, anyway?” asked Viktor.
“I was coming back as fast as I could.” said Storm, “I’ve lost Mikelen.”
He drew his sword and slammed it into a tree, shattering the bark. He gasped irately.
“This is all that intellibrix wizard’s fault, you know,” he muttered angrily, his face turning almost as red as his armour. “
Storm clenched her fist. “Oh, stop your raving,” she snapped. “You’re no better than some of the men that tried to - ” She stopped.
“What?!” Viktor replied. “Tried to what?”
Storm’s bad mood was stifled. “Oh, um, forget it. Now we’ve got to go – we need to find Mikelen!”
With that, she took off, dashing through the foliage, her bright red hair flying over her cloak.
Viktor sighed, then wrenched his sword out of the wood, and took off after her, crashing through the bushes.
***
Solesstorn, Jaythus and Santis were striding through the densely packed trees in silence. Occasionally, Santis would stoop to examine something on the ground, but Solesstorn would merely keep his eyes focused straight ahead.
As he stared about at the thick woodland, and the branches that almost blocked out the sunlight, something strange suddenly occurred to Jaythus.
“Notice that?” the blue-clad Easterner said.
“What?” Solesstorn asked
“It’s completely quiet. There’s no animals. Nothing.” the young Easterner murmured.
“The lad’s right.” Santis remarked. “Somewhere like this should be swarming with critters.”
Solesstorn frowned. “Have you not yet noticed? This whole island’s wrong. The weather, the tide currents, the ‘wildlife’...”
What he was going to say Jaythus never found out, because suddenly a piercing scream slashed through the woodlands like a knife.
“Storm!” Jaythus cried.
At once, Solesstorn took off through the trees, dodging the foliage in his way. Santis charged after him, smashing aside anything in the way, with Jaythus hurrying to stay with him.
K-16 Blocktavia
A day went past. Pyriuss located the merchant captain who was in league with the Cult of Shadows. He seemed like the type, a short bloated worm who would push down little kids and trample them in a hurry to get his filthy claws on a bent penny. Captain Flogwart as he was none, would have had him cut down on the spot and thrown into the bottom of the harbour, but Pyriuss flashed his credentials at him first. Now the good captain would not only transport Pyriuss and his men across the Western Straight, but also throw in a free meal and what ever else his motley crew could get their hands on.
By the way things were going, the captain would only get his ship, the Cruddler a run down brigantine-out of the harbour by the noon hour. The other ten Shadow Knights in Pyriuss’s company were wandering around the deck, looking for something to pass the time. Many were simply practicing for (in their minds) the inevitable battles that would come once they landed.
Pyriuss took no part in that, he lay in a cot bellow deck. It was his first time on a ship and the Wooden Duck willing, it would be his last. Even if he had to swim back to mainland Dametreos, it would be done. His cot swayed gently along with the rest of the boat.
“Tyco you!” He groaned.
Swaying uneasily in his cot, he reached for a bucket to relieve the contents of yesterday’s meals. Just then, his ragged, fraying cot broke under his weight. Whatever reaction he had planned was made worse when the contents of the chamber bucket/puke bucket landed all over his head. Deciding to walk in at that moment was Captain Flogwart.
“Don’t worry yer lordship, yill git ‘cher sea legs in no time.” He laughed.
Pyriuss stifled an oath and gave him a dripping dirty look.
“Heh, heh, take this me b’y, it’ll cure what ails ye!” He chuckled, bringing out a hip flask.
Pyriuss snatched it greedily out of the captian’s hands. He gulped half of it down in seconds. Then he stopped. “W,what is this?”
Flogwart laughed again “It’s a special brew yer lordship. I got it from a sorcerer from on Borilus Dracis or some island named like that. Anyway, it’s dragon’s milk with a few other of it’s nutritious fluids mixed in. It’ll be the cure fer ye sea legs!”
Pyriuss sloshed around the foul contents of his mouth and looked out the porthole. It was going to be a long voyage…
A day went past. Pyriuss located the merchant captain who was in league with the Cult of Shadows. He seemed like the type, a short bloated worm who would push down little kids and trample them in a hurry to get his filthy claws on a bent penny. Captain Flogwart as he was none, would have had him cut down on the spot and thrown into the bottom of the harbour, but Pyriuss flashed his credentials at him first. Now the good captain would not only transport Pyriuss and his men across the Western Straight, but also throw in a free meal and what ever else his motley crew could get their hands on.
By the way things were going, the captain would only get his ship, the Cruddler a run down brigantine-out of the harbour by the noon hour. The other ten Shadow Knights in Pyriuss’s company were wandering around the deck, looking for something to pass the time. Many were simply practicing for (in their minds) the inevitable battles that would come once they landed.
Pyriuss took no part in that, he lay in a cot bellow deck. It was his first time on a ship and the Wooden Duck willing, it would be his last. Even if he had to swim back to mainland Dametreos, it would be done. His cot swayed gently along with the rest of the boat.
“Tyco you!” He groaned.
Swaying uneasily in his cot, he reached for a bucket to relieve the contents of yesterday’s meals. Just then, his ragged, fraying cot broke under his weight. Whatever reaction he had planned was made worse when the contents of the chamber bucket/puke bucket landed all over his head. Deciding to walk in at that moment was Captain Flogwart.
“Don’t worry yer lordship, yill git ‘cher sea legs in no time.” He laughed.
Pyriuss stifled an oath and gave him a dripping dirty look.
“Heh, heh, take this me b’y, it’ll cure what ails ye!” He chuckled, bringing out a hip flask.
Pyriuss snatched it greedily out of the captian’s hands. He gulped half of it down in seconds. Then he stopped. “W,what is this?”
Flogwart laughed again “It’s a special brew yer lordship. I got it from a sorcerer from on Borilus Dracis or some island named like that. Anyway, it’s dragon’s milk with a few other of it’s nutritious fluids mixed in. It’ll be the cure fer ye sea legs!”
Pyriuss sloshed around the foul contents of his mouth and looked out the porthole. It was going to be a long voyage…
Avatar by Graynar
-
Lord_Of_The_LEGO
- Earl of Wells
- Posts: 2954
- Joined: Thu Oct 23, 2003 6:20 pm
- Location: Eureka, CA
- Contact:
Grid: S-1Sir Kohran wrote:What he was going to say Jaythus never found out, because suddenly a piercing scream slashed through the woodlands like a knife.
“Storm!” Jaythus cried.
At once, Solesstorn took off through the trees, dodging the foliage in his way. Santis charged after him, smashing aside anything in the way, with Jaythus hurrying to stay with him.
Location: Solitaire Island
The scream died as quickly as had pierced the air, but Solesstorn, Santis and Jaythus continued to dash in the general direction they had heard it from. Then a new cry reached their ears. It was Viktor.
“Storm! Storm! Storm, can you hear -- HOLY -- GAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!”
Solesstorn, Santis and Jaythus smashed through a bush just in time to see Viktor topple head first, armor and all, into a deep crevice. The three of them barely managed to grind to a halt before they, too, fell into the hole.
“Viktor! Viktor!” Santis bellowed, falling to his knees.
“Storm!” shrieked Jaythus, “Storm!”
****
Down in the crevice, Viktor could barely see. But what he could see nearly made him wet his undergarments. The body of Mikelen -- dead or alive, Viktor couldn’t tell -- was in the pinchers of a giant scorpion. The beast was a scaled and black and sinewy. It’s many legs clicked and clacked dryly as it danced back and forth. As Viktor watched, horrified, the scorpion plunged it’s immense stinger into Mikelen’s body once -- twice -- thrice. Then Storm, shrieking leapt from the shadows, her sword drawn and visor clamped down. Like a phoenix from Hades, she landed agilely on the back of the scorpion and chopped at it with her sword. It did little damage. The sword bounced off the scorpion’s armor like a toy.
Viktor drew his own sword and ran at the gruesome creature. Instead of swinging his sword his stabbed. His blade pierced the armor, but then to his horror it broke at the hilt, leaving the blade embedded. Several of the scorpion’s legs kicked out, and Viktor fell. The stinger tail came plunging down, and Viktor rolled -- under the scorpion. Above him, Storm was thrown off the back by the whirling tail.
****
Above ground, Santis had flipped down his visor and was preparing to jump. Solesstorn’s arm shot out.
“No.” he hissed, “You can’t go down there.”
“Shut the tyco up!” growled Santis, and he dropped into the hole.
Solesstorn learned back, his eyes dark.
“Well!” shrieked Jaythus, “Why aren’t you going down to help them! Use you magic!”
“I can’t!” growled Solesstorn, gnashing his teeth, “That’s Terrayn crystal outcrop down there. This tyco island is peppered with them.”
“What’s a--” Jaythus began, but Solesstorn cut him off.
“Terrayn crystals nullify all use of magic. I would be powerless down there.”
“But our friends!” cried Jaythus, wielding his sword awkwardly, “You may be useless, but I won’t.”
And with that, Jaythus flopped into the hole. Solesstorn cursed and reluctantly followed.
****
Viktor, stuck under the scorpion, could only watch as Storm hit the cave wall hard and crumpled to the ground. Viktor still had his shattered hilt, and he rolled onto his back. He banged the under shell of the scorpion rapidly with his hilt, but it did next to nothing. Suddenly one of the legs came down hard on Viktor’s arm. Armor buckled and Viktor yelled in pain. His yell mingled with Santis’ as the big red knight toppled from the hole and onto the ground. Almost at once Santis was on his feet, and in a battle stance.
“Viktor!” bellowed Santis.
“Under here!” Viktor yelled, “Stab, don’t swing!”
“What?” snapped Santis as the scorpion clattered forward, taking it’s weight off Viktor.
Viktor gasped as pain seared his arm. He scrambled up, pressed against the far all.
“Stab at it!” he repeated, “Stab!”
Santis continued to back up as the scorpion advanced. Milkelen was still in one of it’s claws. Santis stumbled and realised he had stepped on the still form of Storm. There was no where else to go.
“Stab!” shrieked Viktor.
At that moment, Jaythus fell from the hole. He landed right on top of the scorpion.
In the process of converting to [url=http://www.flickr.com/photos/nathanwells/]Flickr[/url].
-
Formendacil
- Knight Templar
- Posts: 4162
- Joined: Wed May 05, 2004 7:22 pm
- Location: Ashland, MA
- Contact:
Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell
It was holiday time in Drullen Bell Keep. Yuletide had passed and the New Year was coming. All was happy, joyful, and rather sedate.
Thomas Valt and Merina Valenti were often to be seen in each other's company, to the gossiping of some, the bemusement of others. And it was on one such day that Thomas and Merina were to be seen walking together around the Drullen Bell parapets. It was a mild, sunny winter day, with nary a breeze, and Merina was well-bundled. Thomas, on whom she was leaning, was wearing nary an extra garment, by contrast.
"Thomas," his companion had said as they began their walk, "it's bad enough that I have this cough. There's no need for you to go and get sick."
"Nonsense," he'd replied, "it's beautiful. Honestly, Merina, I've dressed like this every winter of my life, and I've never suffered from it."
Merina had frowned, but she took him and his word, and they set out on their walk.
What they talked about for the hour or two that spent slowly circling the walls of the keep, was unknown to anyone else, and probably of little interest to anyone else. Merely the prattle of two young people, falling in love, who already know each other fairly well.
As they were finishing their circle around the fortress, and were drawing near to the main gates where they had begun, they were walking along the parapet overlooking the main courtyard. As they were doing so, a figure entered the courtyard from the passage from the main gate. He was a large man, heavily bundled in a dark green cloak.
"What in Dametreos..." gasped Thomas.
"What?" asked Merina.
"It's Brian Broughton!" said Thomas. "I'd know that guy anywhere!"
"Who's Brian Broughton?"
"Oh, right," said Thomas, "he's the cooper back in Hemmerington. Or, at least, he was... HEY!!! BRIAN!"
Down in the courtyard, Brian looked around, hearing his name called, and appeared a bit confused.
"UP HERE!" shouted Thomas.
"Thomas? TOM!" bellowed Brian. "Thank Chodan, I've found you."
"Just a second!" Thomas called back. "We'll be right down."
Heedless of Merina's ailment, they rushed down the stairs into the courtyard, Thomas throwing himself into a big bear hug.
"Brian!" he cried, "it's great to see you! How are things?"
"Not too good, Thomas," said Brian, "but it's been a good year, and now that I've found you, it'll get better! But let's get inside. It's a nice day and all, but I'm freezing!"
"Just a second," said Thomas. "Brian, I'd like you to meet Lady Merina Valenti. Merina, this is Brian Broughton, our village cooper."
"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," said Brian, shaking Merina's hand. As soon as they had shaken, however, that hand went up to her mouth as she started to lightly cough.
"Oh no!" said Thomas, grabbing Merina's arm. "Come on, let's get inside. I'm so sorry, Merina. This was all my idea..."
"Oh, Thomas," said Merina. "It's just a cough. Don't worry so much. It's not the bad cough."
Watching from the sidelines, Brian's first thought at this moment was that the village of Hemmerington would have a field day with this gossip once he and Thomas returned. Poor Maeve MacDouglas! She had always had her eye on Thomas. Ah well, Brian thought, that's how the days of our lives are, fraught with twists and turns. And boy, was Hemmerington's gossip circle going to see that.
Location: Drullen Bell
It was holiday time in Drullen Bell Keep. Yuletide had passed and the New Year was coming. All was happy, joyful, and rather sedate.
Thomas Valt and Merina Valenti were often to be seen in each other's company, to the gossiping of some, the bemusement of others. And it was on one such day that Thomas and Merina were to be seen walking together around the Drullen Bell parapets. It was a mild, sunny winter day, with nary a breeze, and Merina was well-bundled. Thomas, on whom she was leaning, was wearing nary an extra garment, by contrast.
"Thomas," his companion had said as they began their walk, "it's bad enough that I have this cough. There's no need for you to go and get sick."
"Nonsense," he'd replied, "it's beautiful. Honestly, Merina, I've dressed like this every winter of my life, and I've never suffered from it."
Merina had frowned, but she took him and his word, and they set out on their walk.
What they talked about for the hour or two that spent slowly circling the walls of the keep, was unknown to anyone else, and probably of little interest to anyone else. Merely the prattle of two young people, falling in love, who already know each other fairly well.
As they were finishing their circle around the fortress, and were drawing near to the main gates where they had begun, they were walking along the parapet overlooking the main courtyard. As they were doing so, a figure entered the courtyard from the passage from the main gate. He was a large man, heavily bundled in a dark green cloak.
"What in Dametreos..." gasped Thomas.
"What?" asked Merina.
"It's Brian Broughton!" said Thomas. "I'd know that guy anywhere!"
"Who's Brian Broughton?"
"Oh, right," said Thomas, "he's the cooper back in Hemmerington. Or, at least, he was... HEY!!! BRIAN!"
Down in the courtyard, Brian looked around, hearing his name called, and appeared a bit confused.
"UP HERE!" shouted Thomas.
"Thomas? TOM!" bellowed Brian. "Thank Chodan, I've found you."
"Just a second!" Thomas called back. "We'll be right down."
Heedless of Merina's ailment, they rushed down the stairs into the courtyard, Thomas throwing himself into a big bear hug.
"Brian!" he cried, "it's great to see you! How are things?"
"Not too good, Thomas," said Brian, "but it's been a good year, and now that I've found you, it'll get better! But let's get inside. It's a nice day and all, but I'm freezing!"
"Just a second," said Thomas. "Brian, I'd like you to meet Lady Merina Valenti. Merina, this is Brian Broughton, our village cooper."
"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," said Brian, shaking Merina's hand. As soon as they had shaken, however, that hand went up to her mouth as she started to lightly cough.
"Oh no!" said Thomas, grabbing Merina's arm. "Come on, let's get inside. I'm so sorry, Merina. This was all my idea..."
"Oh, Thomas," said Merina. "It's just a cough. Don't worry so much. It's not the bad cough."
Watching from the sidelines, Brian's first thought at this moment was that the village of Hemmerington would have a field day with this gossip once he and Thomas returned. Poor Maeve MacDouglas! She had always had her eye on Thomas. Ah well, Brian thought, that's how the days of our lives are, fraught with twists and turns. And boy, was Hemmerington's gossip circle going to see that.
-
Sir Kohran
- Sheriff
- Posts: 1568
- Joined: Thu Oct 28, 2004 7:24 am
Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island
The scorpion was driven mad with a foe that it could it couldn't see right on top of it. It wheeled around, stabbing at anything and everything with its poison barbed tail, and waving its dark pincers wildly towards the unarmed Viktor.
"Megablocks!" the injured Easterner cursed.
"Tyco!" Santis shouted. "Take this!" he shouted, tossing his broadsword to Viktor. The Easterner was surprised but he grabbed the sword as it fell, eager to have a sword in his hands again. Santis drew his own warhammer, and charged forward, with Viktor close behind.
"FOR THE CODE! YAHH!!!" he bellowed.
Santis smashed his heavy warhammer right onto the monster's head, dazing it. Viktor took the opppurtunity and stabbed the scorpion deep in the mouth. This brought the beast back instantly. Roaring with pain, it struck down at them, knocking the two brave Easterners away, sending their weapons flying. It raised its tail to strike at Santis. The big Knight was cornered against a boulder.
"Santis! NO!" Jaythus cried. He drew his sword and hacked at the hideous tail, but his blow did little harm and he was grabbed up in the pincers of the scorpion, and was tossed away, crying out, to crash into a nearby wall, unconscious, near to Storm and Mikelen.
The scorpion turned back to Santis, who was trying to reach his warhammer, limping from a cut to the leg.
Viktor looked around desperately. He was the only one left standing, and Solesstorn was nowhere to be soon. Cursing the wizard to no end, he dashed up behind and jumped beneath the scorpion, trying to get to his friend. But instead, the scorpion threw all its weight and bulk down onto him. Bravely, Viktor thrust upwards with Santis's sword, piercing the soft flesh, causing the scorpion to hiss in pain. But then the heaving chest crashed down onto Viktor, smothering him.
By now, Santis had retrieved his hammer, and struck an awkward blow to the beast's head. But the scorpion simply tore his hammer away, and stabbed him with its stinger.
Although his armour prevented the poison from striking, Santis was knocked down again by the force of the blow. The beast raised its stinger once more, and thrust at his head.
Suddenly, Solesstorn sprang in front, with his iron staff in one hand, and Storm's sleek sword in his right. He ducked beneath the menacing pincers, his cloak partly hiding him in the shadows. Roaring, he landed several hard blows to the beast's head, stunning it. Then he slammed Storm's blade hard into the monster's head, right above its eyes.
The scorpion was badly wounded. It reared up, stumbling about, and stabbing the ground madly. It grabbed at the sword impaled in its head.
Solesstorn dashed to Viktor, who was now free of the scorpion's suffocating weight. He was dazed and shocked, but still conscious.
"You alright?" he asked, helping the Easterner to his feet.
"What the *cough* tyco took you so *cough* intellibrix long?!" he gasped.
"I had to get a sword." came the simple reply. "And stay hidden from the scorpion at the same time."
Viktor was too tired to argue. Instead, he supported Santis, who was stumbled towards them.
Suddenly, Viktor looked up.
"The scorpion! TYCO!"
The crazed, dying beast was charging straight towards the unconscious forms of Storm, Mikelen and Jaythus.
Location: Solitaire Island
There was a moment's silence as everyone, including the giant scorpion, took in the situation. Then, suddenly, the beast snapped back to life, dropping the limp Mikelen from its pncers and slashing wildly at Jaythus. The young Easterner screamed, trying to avoid the meter-long pincers.Santis continued to back up as the scorpion advanced. Milkelen was still in one of it’s claws. Santis stumbled and realised he had stepped on the still form of Storm. There was no where else to go.
“Stab!” shrieked Viktor.
At that moment, Jaythus fell from the hole. He landed right on top of the scorpion.
The scorpion was driven mad with a foe that it could it couldn't see right on top of it. It wheeled around, stabbing at anything and everything with its poison barbed tail, and waving its dark pincers wildly towards the unarmed Viktor.
"Megablocks!" the injured Easterner cursed.
"Tyco!" Santis shouted. "Take this!" he shouted, tossing his broadsword to Viktor. The Easterner was surprised but he grabbed the sword as it fell, eager to have a sword in his hands again. Santis drew his own warhammer, and charged forward, with Viktor close behind.
"FOR THE CODE! YAHH!!!" he bellowed.
Santis smashed his heavy warhammer right onto the monster's head, dazing it. Viktor took the opppurtunity and stabbed the scorpion deep in the mouth. This brought the beast back instantly. Roaring with pain, it struck down at them, knocking the two brave Easterners away, sending their weapons flying. It raised its tail to strike at Santis. The big Knight was cornered against a boulder.
"Santis! NO!" Jaythus cried. He drew his sword and hacked at the hideous tail, but his blow did little harm and he was grabbed up in the pincers of the scorpion, and was tossed away, crying out, to crash into a nearby wall, unconscious, near to Storm and Mikelen.
The scorpion turned back to Santis, who was trying to reach his warhammer, limping from a cut to the leg.
Viktor looked around desperately. He was the only one left standing, and Solesstorn was nowhere to be soon. Cursing the wizard to no end, he dashed up behind and jumped beneath the scorpion, trying to get to his friend. But instead, the scorpion threw all its weight and bulk down onto him. Bravely, Viktor thrust upwards with Santis's sword, piercing the soft flesh, causing the scorpion to hiss in pain. But then the heaving chest crashed down onto Viktor, smothering him.
By now, Santis had retrieved his hammer, and struck an awkward blow to the beast's head. But the scorpion simply tore his hammer away, and stabbed him with its stinger.
Although his armour prevented the poison from striking, Santis was knocked down again by the force of the blow. The beast raised its stinger once more, and thrust at his head.
Suddenly, Solesstorn sprang in front, with his iron staff in one hand, and Storm's sleek sword in his right. He ducked beneath the menacing pincers, his cloak partly hiding him in the shadows. Roaring, he landed several hard blows to the beast's head, stunning it. Then he slammed Storm's blade hard into the monster's head, right above its eyes.
The scorpion was badly wounded. It reared up, stumbling about, and stabbing the ground madly. It grabbed at the sword impaled in its head.
Solesstorn dashed to Viktor, who was now free of the scorpion's suffocating weight. He was dazed and shocked, but still conscious.
"You alright?" he asked, helping the Easterner to his feet.
"What the *cough* tyco took you so *cough* intellibrix long?!" he gasped.
"I had to get a sword." came the simple reply. "And stay hidden from the scorpion at the same time."
Viktor was too tired to argue. Instead, he supported Santis, who was stumbled towards them.
Suddenly, Viktor looked up.
"The scorpion! TYCO!"
The crazed, dying beast was charging straight towards the unconscious forms of Storm, Mikelen and Jaythus.
-
Formendacil
- Knight Templar
- Posts: 4162
- Joined: Wed May 05, 2004 7:22 pm
- Location: Ashland, MA
- Contact:
Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell
"Healer Melkan sent me," explained the cooper. "And thank Chodan I found you here! I don't know what I'd've done otherwise. Probably gone back and had Melkan beat the snot of me."
Thomas laughed at the idea of the old healer beating the large, strong cooper up.
"What's so serious that old Melkan wants me for?" he asked.
"Well, back a few months, in September I think," said Brian, "some Fright Knight came to the village and started asking nosy questions about your grandfather, and any papers he may have left. We got him drunk in the Pu', and the Korvalt boys beat him up, and Melkan got him out of town in a hurry, but it seems like he's come back now. He's camped out in the woods to the south, and keeping low, but he's sent a spy into town, asking about the same stuff, and he's got a couple dozen armed soldiers with him in the woods. Melkan's afraid that if they don't find something soon, they'll stop the subterfuge and attack the village."
"So why don't they just call in the army?" asked Sir Dractor. "Surely the Dark Forest soldiers could handle it."
"That's just the thing," said Brian. "Not everybody in the village knows what's up. Just Melkan, and whoever's he's told, pretty much. Most of the village can't see what's right under their noses. We've never been in danger in living memory, not even during the Fell War. What's more, Corporal Jarva is our local soldier, and he's a fool, and certainly wouldn't believe it if we told him- and without his approval, we'd never get a detachment to come down to little old Hemmerington, whether we went over his head or not."
"That's a rather sad state of affairs," said Bjarn, "perhaps I could put a word in at Hemlock..."
"Wouldn't do any good," said Sir Dractor. "By the time it got down through the bureaucracy, and to Hemmerington, it'd be half a year later. And I don't think that Queen Arabella is quite so likely to take your every suggestion as young Radjar was."
Bjarn snorted, remembering more than a few times when the headstrong Dark Forester had disagreed wiht him.
"So will you come back, Thomas?" asked Brian. "Your village needs you."
Thomas glanced for a moment at Sir Dractor.
"I'd come back in a second," said Thomas, "but I'm a squire, and I can't just up and leave."
"Then take your big knight with you," said Brian, "that'd be even better."
"If it weren't for other commitments," said Sir Dractor, "I would. But I am sworn to escort Estella Tendarl to Orion, and I've taken one detour already. I'd best not take another."
"Will you let me go, at least?" asked Thomas.
Sir Dractor studied the younger man for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Very well," he said. "I suppose that you are able to take care of yourself well enough. You go back to Hemmerington with Brian, and stay there. I'll join you after taking Estella to Orion."
Merina's face was tight and inscrutable.
"What about me?" she asked.
"I don't think that you're well enough to travel..." said Sir Dractor.
"You're welcome to stay here," said Bjarn. "I'd be delighted to have your company for as long as you care to stay."
"I don't want to be left behind," said Merina. "It's too... depressing."
Sir Dractor frowned. Depressing was not a state that would be condusive to Merina's health, but travelling didn't strike him as any better.
"You can come with me, Merina," said Thomas. "We'll make sure to go easily enough for your health."
"Just a moment!" said Sir Dractor. "Thomas, I trust both you and Merina implicitly, but two young people travelling alone is a complication waiting to happen, and even if nothing does happen, the rumours it will inspire are most inappropriate for a knight to be. As a squire you are supposed to be learning the ways of honour as well as war."
"Nothing will happen," said Thomas, his voice hard.
"I trust Thomas with my life," said Merina. "Nothing will happen."
"The trust between you is enough to give me worry," said Sir Dractor.
"Anyway," broke in Brian, "they won't be travelling alone. I'll be with them."
"I'm not sure that you would count, in the eyes of the village," said Sir Dractor. "And I'd still rather have another person with them."
"I am going with Thomas, whether you like it or not," said Merina, her voice even more stubborn than Thomas's.
"Nothing will happen," said Thomas, "I promise you on my honour as a squire and on my grandfather's blade."
Sir Dractor sighed.
"You may as well give in," said Bjarn. "They're as stubborn as you are, and there are two of them and one of you."
"Very well," said Sir Dractor, resignedly. "You may go with Thomas- but only if William Jorgenson is willing to go with you. And make sure you have plenty of that druid's tea with you. Chodan alone knows what I'll do to Thomas if I arrive in Hemmerington and find you worse."
"Thank you, Sir Dractor," said Merina with a brilliant smile, as she jumped up and hugged the big knight unexpectedly.
"Merina, your health!" warned Sir Dractor, but Merina just grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"It's settled then," said Bjarn gloomily. "You'll all be off and I'll be alone and bored again."
"We should leave as soon as we can," agreed Brian. "It took me nearly two weeks to get here, and I don't know how long Melkan reckons the Fright Knights will hold off using force against the village."
"I could leave tomorrow," said Thomas. "Merina?"
"I'm ready when you are."
Location: Drullen Bell
Once they were inside the Drullen Bell's great hall, and Brian had settled in with by the fire, and Sir Dractor and Bjarn had joined them, Thomas asked Brian to explain why he had come.Formendacil wrote:"Not too good, Thomas," said Brian, "but it's been a good year, and now that I've found you, it'll get better! But let's get inside. It's a nice day and all, but I'm freezing!"
"Just a second," said Thomas. "Brian, I'd like you to meet Lady Merina Valenti. Merina, this is Brian Broughton, our village cooper."
"Healer Melkan sent me," explained the cooper. "And thank Chodan I found you here! I don't know what I'd've done otherwise. Probably gone back and had Melkan beat the snot of me."
Thomas laughed at the idea of the old healer beating the large, strong cooper up.
"What's so serious that old Melkan wants me for?" he asked.
"Well, back a few months, in September I think," said Brian, "some Fright Knight came to the village and started asking nosy questions about your grandfather, and any papers he may have left. We got him drunk in the Pu', and the Korvalt boys beat him up, and Melkan got him out of town in a hurry, but it seems like he's come back now. He's camped out in the woods to the south, and keeping low, but he's sent a spy into town, asking about the same stuff, and he's got a couple dozen armed soldiers with him in the woods. Melkan's afraid that if they don't find something soon, they'll stop the subterfuge and attack the village."
"So why don't they just call in the army?" asked Sir Dractor. "Surely the Dark Forest soldiers could handle it."
"That's just the thing," said Brian. "Not everybody in the village knows what's up. Just Melkan, and whoever's he's told, pretty much. Most of the village can't see what's right under their noses. We've never been in danger in living memory, not even during the Fell War. What's more, Corporal Jarva is our local soldier, and he's a fool, and certainly wouldn't believe it if we told him- and without his approval, we'd never get a detachment to come down to little old Hemmerington, whether we went over his head or not."
"That's a rather sad state of affairs," said Bjarn, "perhaps I could put a word in at Hemlock..."
"Wouldn't do any good," said Sir Dractor. "By the time it got down through the bureaucracy, and to Hemmerington, it'd be half a year later. And I don't think that Queen Arabella is quite so likely to take your every suggestion as young Radjar was."
Bjarn snorted, remembering more than a few times when the headstrong Dark Forester had disagreed wiht him.
"So will you come back, Thomas?" asked Brian. "Your village needs you."
Thomas glanced for a moment at Sir Dractor.
"I'd come back in a second," said Thomas, "but I'm a squire, and I can't just up and leave."
"Then take your big knight with you," said Brian, "that'd be even better."
"If it weren't for other commitments," said Sir Dractor, "I would. But I am sworn to escort Estella Tendarl to Orion, and I've taken one detour already. I'd best not take another."
"Will you let me go, at least?" asked Thomas.
Sir Dractor studied the younger man for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Very well," he said. "I suppose that you are able to take care of yourself well enough. You go back to Hemmerington with Brian, and stay there. I'll join you after taking Estella to Orion."
Merina's face was tight and inscrutable.
"What about me?" she asked.
"I don't think that you're well enough to travel..." said Sir Dractor.
"You're welcome to stay here," said Bjarn. "I'd be delighted to have your company for as long as you care to stay."
"I don't want to be left behind," said Merina. "It's too... depressing."
Sir Dractor frowned. Depressing was not a state that would be condusive to Merina's health, but travelling didn't strike him as any better.
"You can come with me, Merina," said Thomas. "We'll make sure to go easily enough for your health."
"Just a moment!" said Sir Dractor. "Thomas, I trust both you and Merina implicitly, but two young people travelling alone is a complication waiting to happen, and even if nothing does happen, the rumours it will inspire are most inappropriate for a knight to be. As a squire you are supposed to be learning the ways of honour as well as war."
"Nothing will happen," said Thomas, his voice hard.
"I trust Thomas with my life," said Merina. "Nothing will happen."
"The trust between you is enough to give me worry," said Sir Dractor.
"Anyway," broke in Brian, "they won't be travelling alone. I'll be with them."
"I'm not sure that you would count, in the eyes of the village," said Sir Dractor. "And I'd still rather have another person with them."
"I am going with Thomas, whether you like it or not," said Merina, her voice even more stubborn than Thomas's.
"Nothing will happen," said Thomas, "I promise you on my honour as a squire and on my grandfather's blade."
Sir Dractor sighed.
"You may as well give in," said Bjarn. "They're as stubborn as you are, and there are two of them and one of you."
"Very well," said Sir Dractor, resignedly. "You may go with Thomas- but only if William Jorgenson is willing to go with you. And make sure you have plenty of that druid's tea with you. Chodan alone knows what I'll do to Thomas if I arrive in Hemmerington and find you worse."
"Thank you, Sir Dractor," said Merina with a brilliant smile, as she jumped up and hugged the big knight unexpectedly.
"Merina, your health!" warned Sir Dractor, but Merina just grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"It's settled then," said Bjarn gloomily. "You'll all be off and I'll be alone and bored again."
"We should leave as soon as we can," agreed Brian. "It took me nearly two weeks to get here, and I don't know how long Melkan reckons the Fright Knights will hold off using force against the village."
"I could leave tomorrow," said Thomas. "Merina?"
"I'm ready when you are."
-
The Green Knight
- Reeve
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Tue May 18, 2004 3:14 am
- Location: Minnesota
- Contact:
OOS
“I wonder where Griffin and Jackal are?” Gib pondered aloud as they reached the edge of the trees. They were at the northwest corner of the Neverwood and as Gib looked around him, he saw nothing but trees and desert. No Griffin, no Jackal and yet, there was something.
To the southwest lay the land of the Dragon Masters and away near the horizon were the ruins of the Fire Breathing Fortrtess. It looked like there was something going on over there.
“I wonder…” Gib began, but just then there was flapping rush of wind as a hawk came to light on the hermit’s shoulder.
“Griffin! There you are. And where is Jackal?”
“Oh, coming is he?”
“Hmm, say Griffin, you don't think you might make a flight by that fortress over there? I want to know what they’re doing.”
Griffin nodded and was off, flying toward the fortress. The hermit smiled, watching the bird as he soared upward, but Gib's attention was soon arrested by something else happening near at hand. A greeting from the bear told him that Jackal had arrived. Gib turned around but to his surprise he found not one, but two wolves surrounding Grizzle.
“Hello? Jackal, who’s this? Griffin didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend. The newcomer padded forward on grey paws and introduced himself with a bark and a grinning growl.
The hermit took a moment to translate the meaning into old tongue. “Ugrun? That’s an interesting name. Well you’re welcome to join us and I will be glad of your company.”
Gib may have said more, but Griffin swooped back into the group just then and he turned to the hawk for answers.
“What do you see, Griffin?” The hawk cocked its head toward Gib and in a string of croaks, trills and crowings, made his observations known. “Slaves?” Gib stared at the far away construction. “And they’re rebuilding it? Void! I should have guessed. How long has it been I wonder, since our little chat in the ruins of that very fortress? Around a year, I believe since then. Since you spoke to me of oaths and of change. And now I return to see the fruits of your new character and…and this is what I find.” In his mind Gib congratulated himself for not trusting the wizard. Still, he had seemed so sincere then… “Well, some things never change I guess." he told himself. "And Dragon Masters are one of those things…eh Void.”
With a jerk, Gib turned his face from the uncompleted fortress and looked on the familiar trees of the Neverwood.
There it was. His home. Not one step away. And yet, now that he was here Gib wasn’t sure if could bring himself to take that step. It was not physical restraints that had kept him from visiting the wood during his recovery at the Perigils. No indeed, there had been many times that the hermit had found himself standing beyond the forest’s edge, longing to enter if only for a while, and yet…not able to.
You see, Gib had returned to the Neverwood once before, after the BloodVaine war and everything had gone wrong. In fact Gib didn’t doubt that he would have died that time, had it not been for a fortunate run in with an odd pair of travelers in his wood. The truth was, Gib was afraid. Afraid that the Neverwood wouldn’t let him back in. He wanted to go back more then anything and knew that he needed to, but…but what if he couldn’t regain control? What if the Neverwood spat him back out, once again? That was why he had procrastinated so long. Now however, things were different. Now his leg was healed, his allies were with him and his memories were intact. Gib wasn’t going to get any more prepared. It was now or never.
So the hermit took a deep breath and threw back his shoulders. “Well, I’m back. Come what may. The horn of Manus Belphinigib shall sound in the ruined castle once again, and all the good creatures of the wood shall know…that their ally has come once again, to walk in the shadows beneath the dark trees. They shall know that Gib has returned.”
The bear and the hermit managed to get out of the Royal Knight territory with slightly less trouble then would be expected considering how odd the duo must have looked to anyone they might have met. Still, ignoring their good fortune so far, one might say that their journey had been very typical and uninteresting. Indeed, when they finally did reach the Neverwood, it was the first sign of anything exciting or adventurous they’d seen since they left.“Griffin?” Gib said, responding to Grizzle’s inquiries into the notable absence of their feathered friend. “Don’t worry about him. I’ve sent him off to find Jackal. They’re going to meet us at the Neverwood. Speaking of which, I think it’s time we headed south.”
“I wonder where Griffin and Jackal are?” Gib pondered aloud as they reached the edge of the trees. They were at the northwest corner of the Neverwood and as Gib looked around him, he saw nothing but trees and desert. No Griffin, no Jackal and yet, there was something.
To the southwest lay the land of the Dragon Masters and away near the horizon were the ruins of the Fire Breathing Fortrtess. It looked like there was something going on over there.
“I wonder…” Gib began, but just then there was flapping rush of wind as a hawk came to light on the hermit’s shoulder.
“Griffin! There you are. And where is Jackal?”
“Oh, coming is he?”
“Hmm, say Griffin, you don't think you might make a flight by that fortress over there? I want to know what they’re doing.”
Griffin nodded and was off, flying toward the fortress. The hermit smiled, watching the bird as he soared upward, but Gib's attention was soon arrested by something else happening near at hand. A greeting from the bear told him that Jackal had arrived. Gib turned around but to his surprise he found not one, but two wolves surrounding Grizzle.
“Hello? Jackal, who’s this? Griffin didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend. The newcomer padded forward on grey paws and introduced himself with a bark and a grinning growl.
The hermit took a moment to translate the meaning into old tongue. “Ugrun? That’s an interesting name. Well you’re welcome to join us and I will be glad of your company.”
Gib may have said more, but Griffin swooped back into the group just then and he turned to the hawk for answers.
“What do you see, Griffin?” The hawk cocked its head toward Gib and in a string of croaks, trills and crowings, made his observations known. “Slaves?” Gib stared at the far away construction. “And they’re rebuilding it? Void! I should have guessed. How long has it been I wonder, since our little chat in the ruins of that very fortress? Around a year, I believe since then. Since you spoke to me of oaths and of change. And now I return to see the fruits of your new character and…and this is what I find.” In his mind Gib congratulated himself for not trusting the wizard. Still, he had seemed so sincere then… “Well, some things never change I guess." he told himself. "And Dragon Masters are one of those things…eh Void.”
With a jerk, Gib turned his face from the uncompleted fortress and looked on the familiar trees of the Neverwood.
There it was. His home. Not one step away. And yet, now that he was here Gib wasn’t sure if could bring himself to take that step. It was not physical restraints that had kept him from visiting the wood during his recovery at the Perigils. No indeed, there had been many times that the hermit had found himself standing beyond the forest’s edge, longing to enter if only for a while, and yet…not able to.
You see, Gib had returned to the Neverwood once before, after the BloodVaine war and everything had gone wrong. In fact Gib didn’t doubt that he would have died that time, had it not been for a fortunate run in with an odd pair of travelers in his wood. The truth was, Gib was afraid. Afraid that the Neverwood wouldn’t let him back in. He wanted to go back more then anything and knew that he needed to, but…but what if he couldn’t regain control? What if the Neverwood spat him back out, once again? That was why he had procrastinated so long. Now however, things were different. Now his leg was healed, his allies were with him and his memories were intact. Gib wasn’t going to get any more prepared. It was now or never.
So the hermit took a deep breath and threw back his shoulders. “Well, I’m back. Come what may. The horn of Manus Belphinigib shall sound in the ruined castle once again, and all the good creatures of the wood shall know…that their ally has come once again, to walk in the shadows beneath the dark trees. They shall know that Gib has returned.”
Let us stop for a moment and ponder the signiture...
Ok, enough of that!
Ok, enough of that!
-
Formendacil
- Knight Templar
- Posts: 4162
- Joined: Wed May 05, 2004 7:22 pm
- Location: Ashland, MA
- Contact: