Arkanel had made his request to many people, but only a few chose to accept, and fewer came to the appointed place at the appointed time. They each stood in the place agreed upon, and patiently waited. Their vision clouded for a moment, as the world they had grown up in vanished.
As everything went white, their vision cleared and they found themselves standing on a raised stone partition. The sage Arkanel was standing in front of them, surrounded by a white nimbus while holding an ornate wooded staff aloft, his white robes fluttering in the wind.
It was there first look at Arkanel, and he was a broad shouldered man, with a short wispy beard. He seemed fit, with unruly silver hair that hung down below his shoulders.
Closer inspection found the nine transplants to the world standing upon nine individual circles drawn in chalk, various symbols and markings constructed inside. The circles of each were different, including the seven empty circles.
Grass flowed in every direction, an unspoiled land by all appearances. In one direction, mountains could be seen rising up, as if out of the grass itself.
A slender young woman moved to give support to the sage as the nimbus surrounding him faded. She was light of skin, with silver hair to match Arkanal's. She was short, only coming up to his chest, and looking only at him. His face, which had been intense, lightened as he looked out upon those who had come and spoke.
"Welcome! Welcome, all, and thanks."
edit: I forgot describe yourselves.
O'karn looked around, appraising both the new 'companions' he found himself amongst and the the two before him. They both looked rather weak, why he could snap both of them over his knee with ease. But the old man, yes, that was the man that offered wealth beyond his wildest dreams. A world for his tribe to conquer and rule. Grunting in response to the mage, O'karn kept his guard up, not trusting his companions in the least at the moment.
If one was to look at O'karn, they would most likely have to creak their neck back quite a bit, for O'karn towered tall and mighty at nearly ten feet tall dressed in spiked black platemail with bone artistry running up and down it. On his back a powerful looking sword was sheathed, small skulls hanging from leather at the bottom of the hilt. His face was hidden behind a mask of bone, save for two penetrating black eyes and a fearsome coil of black hair which ran down his back in an indian style. All in all he looked both powerful an menacing, like some fell demonic warrior from beyond.
Fearless Leader
Daggedal shrugs, resting a hand on his sword.
"Yar, well, now that we're here, no turning back. This 'ad better be 'erth it," the man says, running a hand through his hair.
He's a fairly broad-shouldered man, wearing a spiked shield with a skull emblazoned on it. His sword appears to be nothing more than a typical sword, and he's wearing an odd mismatch of clothing, seeming to consist of a leather shirt and pants with far too many patches to have been made by a real tailor.
He carries a soldiers pack, presumably stuffed full of rations, blankets, and other travelling essentials. An unstrung bow also sits on his back. He's slightly pale, and the area around him seems to darken slightly. A cocky grin is on his face, and he has a goatee and moustache. His black hair is unkempt and long, and he appears to be at the height of readiness.
After a brief glance at his surroundings, Devon turned his attention on his companions. Examining them in turn.
Looking at Devon, one would see a tall (though not as tall as O'karn), lithe, individual who moved with a sort of inhuman grace. Clad in dark green camouflage fatigues, with a dark gray cloak and tan shoufa drawn up around the mouth, the only visible skin was a small pale swath around a pair of dark sunglasses. Anyone doing a scan for visible weapons might recognize the hilt of a sword poking up over his right shoulder along with the tip of an unstrung bow. In a holster on his right thigh there was a pistol of some sort (for those who recognize it as such) and a dagger on his left.
Arael glanced around her surroundings gleefully. Magic was such a wonderful thing! Noticing the unspoiled lands around her she stood awestruck, marveling that such a place could exist outside the care of Zeal.
Arael appears to be young woman with long, golden hair tied into a braid that stops at the small of her back. She wears white knee high boots with steel guards across the front, white leather pants with a chain where a belt would normally be worn, a golden short sleeve blouse with a white leather vest over it, the left shoulder pad bearing a staff sprouting wings, her right arm covered by a white leather glove with the same wings and staff emblem secured to her arm, and the left arm bare except for an odd looking glyph on the back of her hand.
She's wearing a white backpack. A white mace, the head spiked and bearing the same wings and staff emblem, rests at her right side. Those with sharp eyes might notice two large daggers under the vest.
Rackham's eyes dart around, taking in everything. He stands apart from his "companians," his stance is one of readiness. He looks at the two mages with distrust and contempt, and his hands are ever constantly carressing his weapon, a huge scythe. Every once in a while, his green eyes seem to glitter. "There had better be the violence you promised mage," he says. "And loot too," he adds as an aside.
If one looks at Rackham, they will see a tall man, standing at 6 feet. He wears a simple black tunic and pants with sturdy calve high black harden leather boots. These sport black iron toes. His armor consists of a leather breastplate dyed black with inveterwoven iron plates, studded leather gauntlets and greaves. To complete the assemble, he wears a grimreaper like cloak out of supple leather. Around his neck there is a simple silver chain with a silver dagger. His main weapon is obvious, a huge battle scythe with a black chain wrapped around the handle and an attached blade at the bottom.
Done with a cursory examination of those brought to this place along with him, Devon turned his attention to Arkanel and his assistant.
"Greetings," he spoke in a low melodious voice, punctuating the statement with a brief nod of the head.
Daggedal chuckles at Rackhams words, but dosn't say anything..
Nirae looked around, casually observing the place, though noting with a bit of disappointment that there didn't seem to be any seas to fare about. What's the use of a being a famous pirate captain... with no seas to pirate! After all, it was her apparent life goal.
Nirae was a study in black and crimson, though not a tall study, standing only five foot seven inches tall, positively short compared to a few of her companions. Loose fitting, black trousers, tied at waist and ankle, though the ankle ties didn't show from under the mid-thigh length, thick leather boots, slashed and folded down to knee height, dyed dark crimson, covered her legs, strong from years spent on the rolling deck of a ship. A black shirt, tight in the bodice and at wrists, loose and slightly slashed in full sleeves, leather jerkin, wrist braces, and shoulder guards, dyed a dark crimson served to cover her torso. And a knee-length black cloak with a crimson interior flapped loosely about from under her pack. Her saber hilt partnered her mace on the other side of her belt, and an astute individual might notice the tip of her throwing 'hawk peeking out from behind her back.
She glanced around at her new-found companions, a positively michevious grin lighting up her features as she spotted Rackham.
"Hey! Rackham, you ole' sea dog! You were chosen too?" She adressed the barbarian with a rackish grin on her features. "Hopefully I won't spend so much time patching you up this time around!"
Miaka smiled and waved at everyone with her right hand, holding her backpack in the other, the frilly sleeve of the translucent white gown she wore as part of her ceremonial outfit fluttering due to the motion. On top of the gown, she wore red robes, with a golden sash tied at her waist. The robes had a deep V-neck, a necklace of beads hanging around Miaka's neck decorating it. Red slippers at her feet, a trio of golden bands worn on her right ankle, platinum bracelets on both of her wrists and a golden circlet with an intricate design of a phoenix rising from its ashes adorning her head completed Miaka's attire.
The red-headed girl's normally long hair was collected into two buns, held together with ribbons of matching color. All of it, that is, save for two small sets of bangs woven into shoulder-length braids on each side of her face, blue shells serving as clamps for them.
Drall stood silently, his gaze passing over each of his "companions" in turn. 'It would seem that I have found myself in quite a diverse assemblage,' he thought. 'Some of these are outside my experience - that tall beast of a man seems quite fascinating to say the least. It would seem prudent to steer clear of him.'
The half-drow looked cautiously at Arkanel and his companion. 'This mage is a curious one. But I am willing - for now - to accept his generous offer of emploment.'
He then glanced at the Nirae and Rackham and nodded approvingly - their attire seemed well suited for the task at hand. 'Of course, I doubt any of them are as well equipped as I.'
The half-drow looked in mistrust at Devon and Arael. 'This is a strange one, I think. He seems too akin to a ranger for my tastes. And as for the mage, one can never trust those who claim to be good - in my experience, there is always something to hide.'
Drall smiled slightly, confident enough in his own abilities that he could easily escape if pressed by attackers. He brushed his short cropped white hair, but did not touch his bangs, which had been grown long to conceal his face.
He drew his long black cloak around him, allowing only glimpses of what he wore - dressed entirely in black, with long black leather gloves and boots, and a light chain mail over his tunic. A quick eye would have observed in that moment while his cloak was still open that Drall had a belt of daggers across his chest. Drall adjusted the crossbow strapped to his back, ensuring that his quarrels were within easy reach.
If one were to look exceedingly carefully - they might notice the hint of outlines of numerous other blades on his person - but they would have to look very carefully indeed.
He checked the sword at his side, and glanced around once more. 'Quite a powerful group here - this may be more entertaining than I would have thought.'
"Nirae," he responded with quiet pleasure. He went to stand by her side, his eyes ever flickering to those gathered, his hands ever grasping the handle of his scythe.
"I can now be sure of at least one person who enjoys my tastes," he added happily.
Snapping out of her revelry Arael finally turned her attention to her companions and hosts, for lack of better words. The general feel she got of those other who where summoned was not entirely pleasant. Far too many of them had a fondness for black and skeletal designs seemed to be the in thing.
Standing at nearly six feet in height she was no shrub, but the towering mailed figure dwarfed any she had ever seen before. Apparently, at least two people knew each other already, though from some of the looks being passed around she doubted that being more than a fluke.
The child dressed in the loud Chinese garb stuck out even more so than the giant, if only for the company she was in. If she was a gifted, as Arael was led to believe since she carried no visible weapons, Arael would have to have a talk with her. She smiled cheerfully at the girl, and gave her a little wave.
But now it was time to handle business. She approached the silver-haired pair.
"Hi! Arkanel I believe it was? You've summoned me, and I guess them as well, here for a purpose. As one of Zeal's own Shepherds I, Arael Saber, have chosen to hear you out more fully. But I- we rather, need more information about what it is you want and what help you can give us."
Arkanel smiled gently in response to the young girl.
"There is much to go over, although I'm not sure here is the place to go into great detail. It has come to my attention that Zaphiel, my one time brother has formed a small force in the ancient citadel Camelot.
"I fear that to adequately tell the tale, I must give you a little history of this land. A thousand years ago, this was a well populated world, where many wonders, like the one I just achieved were common place. The greatest scientists and mages of the day combined their might in many experiments, which unfortunately led to war.
"I could find little if no details of the how the war ended, or what exactly happened immediately after it. Camelot was believed to be the heart of it, and Zaphiel, bewitched by the tale, went to the forbidden place ten years ago. He somehow transformed it, and in secret, called upon the populace to form an army. For what purpose I did not know. When I found out of his recruiting, I visited him for the first and last time.
"I prevailed upon him to stop, to return to Glendale and take up his position at my side as one of the spiritual leaders of the populace. He laughed, and ranted about the secrets he was uncovering until he stopped and chastised me!
Begone! I shall let you leave because of the love I once felt for you. But, the next time you cast your eyes upon me, will be the last time your eyes behold anything.
"I fear that I have neither the power nor the people to command to stop him. I sent word to the capital for instruction and help, but I fear the distance to reach it will be too late in coming. The fasted I might receive word back is still more than a week away. I have sent a few trusted people to try and infiltrate Camelot, but only one returned. He died shortly after, incoherent, and babbling about some pillar of fire somewhere beneath the main keep.
"I had hope that you would help me, and stop this madness, before my town, and maybe my world is thrown back into the chaos it was before.
"I realize you all have different goals, and I promised you very little. But after talking with you, those that came, and those that didn't, I realized I did have something to offer."
He turned towards the small girl at his side. "Lafiel has a down-payment of sorts."
The small girl, who had stood quietly at his side, bent down into a bag that she carried. She proceeded to produce small canvas pouches, and tossed one to each of the persons gathered.
Rackham snagged his pouch from midflight, commenting to Nirae all the while. "An army eh? Looks like there will be fighting at least."
Holding his scythe in the crook of his arm, he then proceeded to open the pouch and look inside.
Rackham, opened the small pouch to reveal five stones contained within. There appeared to be three diamonds and two rubies within, sparkling in the partial sunlight that filtered to them.
O'karn caught the small bag in his mailed hand, sniffing slightly before opening it with his broad fingers.
Fearless Leader
Drall grabbed the pouch and waited for someone else to open it - after all, one could never be too careful, he mused.
After seeing Rackham open his bag to no apparent ill effect, Drall shrugged and opened his own bag to inspect the contents. With a grin, he rifled through the contents, trying to place value on what was there.
O'karn smelled slightly musty canvas before fumbling at the strings a little bit. Upon opening it, he found five glittering stones, three translucent ones glittered brighter than the two red ones. He recognized them all as gems he had seen before.
O'karn smiled toothily and remarked "Shinies." Closing the bag, he stuffed it in his sidepouch. Nodding approvingly at the wizard he grunted out, "Human wizard, tell me more about Zaphiel. What does this pathetic fool look like?" He spoke common with a sort of gutteral and rough accent.
Fearless Leader
Drall found five gems, all to be about the size of a grape. They all had six equally sized facets to them. He flinched as his was finger pricked the rough edge of one of the diamonds.
From his knowledge, they were of fine quality, but small, and should fetch a decent price back home.
Akranel responded to O'karn, "He stands 7 feet tall with long silver hair. His eyes are deep blue and while he is fit, he isn't very bulky. He was considered fair when younger and has lost little of his looks."
Rackham blinked once before stuffing the the bag in his belt pouch. "These look like they could buy a new weapon, " he thought.
Rackham nodded to the orc's inquiry. "And where is it that we must go first? I dislike standing around," he growls.
Rackham is once again gripping his scythe in both hands. His eyes still continue to rove around, especially to those that look like mages.
"Seven feet, you say?" Drall repeated. "What race is your brother anyway?" He then held up his pouch and asked, "This is a fair 'down-payment' as you have put it, but I wonder: how much more can we expect for fulfilling this contract?"
"You say he has power," O'karn continued in his gutteral accent, "What kind of power?"
Fearless Leader
"And I want to know more about his army. Can they fight? Or are they simply peasants with poorly handled weapons."
A small light appeared in Rackham's eyes at the word "fight," he bit the the corner of his lip.
"And is this brother of yours a pure...mage, or can he handle himself with a blade."
Arkanel looked out upon the people.
"As to the race of my former brother. He is simply a chosen, as I am. The silver hair is the mark we are born with to distinguish us as such.
"Alas, I do not know for sure what secrets or powers he might have acquired, or given to his followers.
"I was to show you Camelot next, and then discuss ways in which it might be breached.
"But I think as you do, it is time we departed this place. Lafiel has some robes for you all to wear. So as to not attract too much undue attention. It is not unwise to think that there will be agents in the city or in the area. It is not unique from pilgrims from afar to look upon Camelot and discuss tidings with me."
As he spoke, the woman again stood holding a pile of white clothing. She looked at Arkanel, and he nodded to her.
She turned to the assembled group and approached O'karn first. She turned the pile over in her hands, before placing it down. Taking the top garment off, it appeared to be white a robe. She held it up to him, while letting the bottom drag on the floor.
Arael listened intently; any power mentioned would, without a doubt, be important. Such details could- nay, would, mean the difference between life and death.
Hearing the scythe-wielding man continue to interrupt Arael almost sighed. Why were lambs always such thick headed buffoons? If they'd only value life more the Shepherds wouldn't have to take so many of theirs away.
Casting her mind his way while outwardly listening to the silver-haired mage, she implemented her charm ability on him, her intent to silence him through compulsion.
Drall looked at the white clothing in disgust.
"Surely we do not all have to wear such garments," he protested. "It would greatly task my abilities to conceal myself if need be. I would prefer to hide in the shadows than wear a white robe."
O'karn grunted distastefully, little liking to cover up the armor that was his heritage. But then, concessions occassionally had to be made. Taking the robe in a mighty hand from the stupid human, he lifted it up, looking over it.
Fearless Leader
Arkanel turned his attention to Rakham and frowned. "I wish I could say with any certainty what you will face. The knowledge of the old world is fragmented and unclear. The magic and staff I used to speak with you and call you hear are but a part of what may be possible to him. It speaks of feats beyond my imagination and wars of soldiers that are uncountable. If he has access to a small part of this knowledge; But you aren't interested in my fears."
Rackham agreed with the elf humanoid. "White? White is commonly worn by those who dislike fighting," he spit at the ground.
"And bloodstains are hard to wash away from white clothes," he grumbles quietly so only those with exceptional hearing or standing near him could make it out.
O'karn lifted up the robe, he noticed it had the prequisite holes for his arms and a hood. He also noted it looked to be big enough to fit him.
Arael doubled over nauseated as her mind became clouded. She lost focus as she fell to a knee before the feelings subsided.
Rakham, felt an intense headache as he spoke. His sentence after spitting, came out as unintelligible blather to all around him.
Lafiel, who had picked up her pile, looked first at Arael, and then disapprovingly at Rakham before moving on and handing a robe to Drall.
"Wha... What just happened?" Arael queried. That was a first.
O'karn grunted and slipped the robe over his head. Letting it fall down over him he slipped his arms out of the holes and checked his range of motion.
Fearless Leader
Akranel looked to Drall.
"Your wearing it is up to you. It is mearely offered as a convienince to help you blend in should you need to avail yourselves of anything in the town."
He turned to Arael, "Are you okay?"
O'karn found the robe to be a bit on the large side. It didn't effect his range of motion noticeably, although it did stretch all the way to his heels.
Rackham grasped his head with one head, grunting with pain. He then proceeded to snarl and hold his scythe tighter, eyes frantically darting all around.
"What was that," he barely managed out.
Drall grumbled. "Oh, very well. I will wear it. But I will not promise to like it." He traced a finger down his cloak and grimaced. He glanced up in confusion at Rackham's behavior. "What in the world is the matter with you?"
Deciding nothing else could be gained standing around she joined the giant bone-covered man along side the mage. She took a drink of the water, not really thirsty but no wanting to offend.
Ignoring the mage's anger, Rackham gingerly took the white robe and opened it, trying to gauge if it would fit over his clothes, armor, cloak, and if it would, by any chance, help conceal his scythe if need be.
"Thanks, I suppose," he mutters quietly.
Catching the sack, Devon glanced inside at the contents before slipping it into a pocket and turning his attention back to the others.
Waiting for Lafiel to come around and hand him a robe, he walked over to Arkanel and asked him softly, "Do you know if Zaphiel is receiving any sort of extra-dimensional aide? This sounds like the modus operandi of several entities I can think of."
Lafiel proceeds to place robes down in front of the others. Before returning to stand next to Arkanel. holding a robe for Devon.
After accepting the robe, Drall looked it over with a frown, then sighed. "Well, I suppose it isn't too bad. At least it's not some bright colors that would stand out a mile away."
Pulling his cloak tight, he carefully slipped on the robe, making sure to conceal all of his visible weapons. He then shifted a bit, checking, then nodded. 'I should be able to access most, if not all, of my weapons - well, except for my crossbow. But if necessary, I will merely rip off this robe.' He pulled at the robe. 'Hopefully, I will be able to easily do so.'
Drall now grinned toothily and walked over to the tall humanoid and the female in white. He nodded once to each of them, then turned away to look at the rest of the group.
Arkanel responded softly, "I can only assume that's a possibility. I have neither experience nor proof with what you speak."
Grunting, O'karn gestured to Arkanel to lead off and begin his story. "The others can catch up to us with your servant."
Fearless Leader
Rackham realized that it would fit, but that it would be bulky and a bit constricting if worn over all those other items.
Taking the robe from Lafiel, Devon nodded to her with a muttered, "Thanks." Turning back to Arkanel while examining the robe he frowned, "Let's hope that isn't the case."
Lafiel flashed Arkanel a look, which he responded to with a calm façade as he began to walk towards the northern edge of the platform.
"Let us depart," he said. Stopping to place a hand upon the young girl's shoulder, he bent down and whispered something in her ear. Her frown deepened but she stood aside and turned to the group.
"She will lead those who are still acclimating themselves when they are ready. We are heading towards the mountains. It's about 10 miles, and the town is just past the peeks. If you get separated, ask for my house, it is on the lake and hard to miss."
O'Karn grinned broadly behind his mask as he heard the news. Nothing like the pikes of stone, travelin' up to the heavens. "Well then, human mage. Let us be off. And tell us of the journey you made into the fortress of the mad fool. It could be important."
Fearless Leader
Miaka, coming out of her daze, hurried after the departing Arkanel.
Pulling off his cloak, and revealing a rather flat looking backpack, Devon folded it and placed it into the pack along with his sword and bow. Pulling on the robe, he tested his range of motion while following Arkanel and the large creature.
Arkanel looked at O'karn, "As I said earlier. This was a little while back and I went up to the gates and asked to see him. I had hoped to talk reason with him," he responded.
Rackham frowned serverly, before taking off his cloak, revealing a black leather backpack. He then carefully folded his cloak and tucked it in his backpack, before donning the robe. He then picked up his backpack and slipped it on his back. Seeing that the robe wouldn't conceal his scythe, Rackham took it in hand once again. Like the bone-covered humanoid had done, Rackham then proceeded to test the flexibility and mobility of his new attire, by stretching and giving a few practice swipes with his scythe, taking care to not aim at anybody.
Arael followed closely as well.
"Please continue your tale."
Rakham swung easily in the garment, feeling no constrictions to his movements.
Drall inspected his robe carefully, trying to figure out how strong it was, and how easy it would be to rip or damage. He also tried to decipher the value of the robe's materials.
O'karn shook his head, "Not good enough. Describe more of his castle. You had to have seen some of it. What does it look like from the inside?"
Fearless Leader
Drawl noticed that while strudy, he would be be able to rip it easily, with a little effort.
The material seemed to be simple clothe, nothing of much value.
Nodding to Arael and O'karn, he continues talking, "The citadel is constructed where the inside the mountains ends. There are two buildings just inside the outer wall. Then another inner wall protects the castle, which is built against the mountains themselves.
"The outer wall is surrounded by a moat. The moat flows through the gates, requiring the gate to be lowered to be useful.
"The inside is large, but cold. I was taken to a room, where Zaphiel sat upon a thrown. There was nothing remarkable about any of it, as far as I know.
"There were many people around, all carrying implements of war and hate," he grimaced at this point, frowning greatly.
"If you wish, I could draw a small map of what I remember when we get to my home. I'm sorry I hadn't thought of that earlier.
"People? scrawny humans? About how many did you see? Hundred? Many hundred?" O'karn inquired.
Fearless Leader
Moving to Arkanel's right, Devon seemed to glide along with an effortless grace, his boots peaking out from under the robe seeming the only indication he was moving at all.
He listened intently as O'karn questioned Arkanel.
Drall looked up, realizing he should probably be listening. "This castle, how well lit is it? And how shadowy does the surrounding area get when the sun is not at its zenith? You understand, this specifically applies to my own abilities."
Drall grinned and attempted to cast a low powered spell which would summon small shadows dancing in his hand, effectively demonstrating a facet of his magical ability.
Drall's grin turned sickly as his hand flashed to his chest and wave of naseau flushed over him. He stopped walking to catch his breath.
Arkanel stopped and stared at him curiously.
Devon noticed something in the distance.
"I couldn't say for sure, but I saw a goodly amount of people. More than could have come from the town, that's for sure," Arkanel responded to O'karn while waiting for Drall to come to his senses.
O'karn frowned, spinning around and grabbing Drall by his neck, hauling him up off his feet. "What the fuck is wrong with you scrawny human? You are like a baldheaded child on his first raid. Showy and stupid."
Fearless Leader
Drall snarled at the ogre. "Put me down you big oaf!" He tried to extricate himself while reaching for his sword. 'If he doesn't let me go, I'll cut off his damn fingers!' he thought angrily.
Devon looks more closely at the object that caught his attention.
Devon stared intently. He caught sight of the multiple movements in the grass about about fifty yards away. It took him a moment to recognize them as large wolves that were running towards them from the east.
OOC:
Devon and Arael are closest to them.
Arkanel, O'karn, and Drall were behind him in relation to the the creatures.
Miaka is farthest.
O'karn frowned as he swiftly brought the back of his gauntleted free hand across Drall's jaw to both shut him up and daze him. "Stupid scrawny human. What do you think this is? Some sort of pleasure trip? Your pathetic showing off will get us killed."
Fearless Leader
Drall was again, dazed by the blow, his hand failing to reach his sword from the swiftness of O'karns attack. His head was ringing and his jaw sore from the impact.
ooc: Drall and O'karn are frozen for the moment.
Spinning to his right, Devon called out, "Wolves at fifty yards."
Reaching up his sleeves, he pulled out a knife in each hand.
O'karn roars and flings Drall away from him, drawing his sword and menacingly preparing for battle, ready to maintain his ground, sword ready to swiftly lash out and slay any who got close.
Fearless Leader
Arkanel, turned from the display with a shudder, and moved back towards Miaka, holding his staff in front of him.
At the call of the fatigues wearing individual Arael grabbed her mace, prepared for battle. It would be too risky to use her abilities.
She placed herself before the mage. They couldn't aford to lose him.
As Drall was thrown through the air, unfortunately towards the wolves, he landed about five feet in front of Devon.
He landed about the same time the wolves were 120 feet away.
OOC: Drall, you're woozy, but you can start an action.
Drall slowly got to his feet, his head ringing. 'That damn brute...' He shook his head to clear it. 'No time for that now. I don't have time to throw anything - I can only use my sword.'
He reached for his sword and began to back slowly towards the group, hoping to get his sword drawn in time.
As the wolves approached, the party could make out five creatures, in a 1/3/1 formation.
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Drall made it back to stand even with Devon and Areal, still a little woozy.
As they reached thirty feet from Devon, he threw both daggers at the lead animal. As soon as they were away, he reached for his sword.
He noted with some surprise as the lead animal attempted to leap over the oncoming missiles. The animal successfully dodged the first one, but failed to elude the second as it impacted its front leg, eliciting a scream from it.
He slowed and the three wolves in the second line moved to the fore, and bore down on the humans. Precisely, two were directed towards Devon, one towards Drall, while the other two ran straight at the party, as few feet and seconds behind.
Drall held his position and extended his sword, waiting to strike until the wolf was in reach.
Arael, noting the lack of attacker coming for her, broke left and back. She held the mace with one hand while drawing one of her large daggers with the other. She moves out of the big man's swing radius and prepares to throw the dagger from the wolves flank.
Devon drew his sword and moved back and to the right, staying out of O'karn's swing radius. Attempting to prevent any wolves from swinging around the Ogre to flank it.
Drall looked at the wolf approaching him. He swung when it got within reach, only to have it dance to his left, as the blow grazed it, drawing blood.
Two wolves seemed impervious to anything else as they continued in pursuit of Devon.
One moves to Devon's right, while the other attacks, sinking it's fangs into his ankle.
Drall holds back, but makes sure he is out of the ogre's reach. He continues to hold up his short sword with one hand while quickly reaching for one of the knives on his belt to throw at the wolf.
With a swift thrust of his blade, O'karn sought to remove the wolf between him and Devon. His blade hungering for the flesh of his enemies as it glowed softly.
Fearless Leader
Growling, Devon brought his bastard sword down in an arc towards the wolf that had bitten him.
The wolf in front of Drall snarled as it held it's ground.
Drall reached for his dagger, clutching it, he shouted in pain as one of the trailing wolves bit down upon his sword wrist. At this signal, the wolf in front of him lunged at the man's throat.
Devon's sword came down in a mighty arc, carving open the back of the large wolf. Blood spurted everywhere as his killing blow was joined by O'karn's mighty thrust through the creature.
A nasty snarl called his attention as he looked up in time to see the wolf he had hit, make the battlefield and lunge at his face. The last wolf, darted forward, and bit down upon Devon's Achilles tendons.
O'karn roared with glee as he ripped his sword up from the dead beast, swinging it with awesome force towards the midsection of the leaping wolf, seeking to cleave him into nice parts.
Fearless Leader
Ducking down and to the right in an attempt to dodge the leaping wolf, Devon spun and brought his sword up in a flashing arc at the wolf behind him.
O'karn's roar was triumphant as he cleved the leaping wolf. It's whiper was short and sweat as blood poured forth from it's mouth and rained over it's dead packmate.
Devon spun as he ignored the searing pain in his legs as flesh gave wave to the wolf's jaw. The spin was less than pretty, but he regained enough control to cleave the wolf's head, blood spurting upon him.
OOC: Figment and Drac are frozen from this group.
Nirae snarled slightly to herself as she realized that yet again, her fugues had caused her to be left behind.
Hauling her saber from its sheath in one smooth move, she moved fowards, seeming to go from standing into a full fledged, and oddly silent, run in the direction she had last spotted the others heading.
OOC:
Sorry about the delay, I work 12 hours or so a day right now... maybe longer. Damn war BS! >_<
Lafiel watched as the sailor ran off.
Nirae ran after the lead group, towards the mountains in the distance. While the high grass slowed her slightly, she felt the comforting warmth of sun upon her brow as her only thought was to catch the lead group.
Her senses flared and she stopped, turning in time to see a large wolf leaping at her .
Arael spied the wolf attacking the man who had so recently been punked by tall, dark, and brutal. Reacting quickly she threw her blade at the beast. She quickly grasped her mace with both hands once the dagger had departed her hand.
OOC: Blargh. It's like starting Tomb all over again. @_@
IC: After catching the cloak and purse, Daggedal shrugs as the rest of the group buggers off, and walks over to what'sername.
"Yar, when're we goin'? May's well head for that town.. shore those two can follow up after."
Lafiel turned and looked into the distance, following the path the others had taken with her eyes.
"Stupid old man," she exhaled finally, "always doing things the hard way."
"Well, I ain't walking," she walked to the where her piles of things were sitting and pulls out a small rod.
She walked to the middle of the slab, carting her gear with her. "You can walk after your friends if you want, but I'm teleporting back?"
"Which will it be?"
"Yar, teleporting sounds good," replies Daggedal, putting on the robe so it covered his equipment. "Must learn that one sumday."
She nodded, hefting her gear and grapping hold of both Daggedal's and Jeremiah's hands. She concentrated on something, and both men noticed the ring on her finger glow in response to the rod she carried.
The world turned white for a moment as they felt disoriented before they arrived in a room. A small pyramid shaped device stood upon a table in the center of the room, it tips glowed red for a moment before dying. The table was set upon a reddish oval rug, its use clearly shown.
The room had two bookshelves, overflowing with old tomes. A desk was situated opposite the books, and it was cluttered with books as well. There were no windows, and the acrid stench of old smoke filled the small enclosure. A single wooden door stood closed to a side.
"Welcome to my uncle's house," Lafiel said as she moved towards the door. "Let's go to the parlor and talk."
Daggedal dosn't instantly respond, taking a moment to look at the spines of the various books in the bookshelves..
Daggedal notices that the spines are well used, quite a few of them are torn in various places. The writting on the spines was faint, but a glance revealed that about a quarter of them were in a script he couldn't decipher.
Of those he could understand, there was a set of ten volumes entitled "The Order: The path of peace and prosperity." Another couple volumes were titled, "Leading you people." Some other titles dealt with home repair, one with cooking, a history of Glenview, an comparative history of the midlands. The rest were even less interesting than those he noted.
Lafiel reaches the door an opens it, she turns back to look at Daggedal. Noticing his actions, she speaks.
"You're welcome to read them, but be careful they're old and fragile. Quite a few are written in the old toungue. My uncle is trying to translate them, without as much success as he would like."
"I'll be upstairs down the hall. I hate the stench in this room if you want to stay."
Daggedal shrugs. "I'll have a word with him about these books later. 'till then.. perhaps you can tell me a little more about the world, m'lady."
He heads off after Lafiel..
Rackham blinked when he saw Nirae run off, and then without hesitation ran off after her. She was a constant, and she drew trouble. Rackham LIKED trouble.
"What would you like to know, Mr... " she queried as began to ascend some stairs.
Rackham tore off after Nirae. She had a bit of a lead and slowly pulled away from the running man.
He watched, from a distance of 100 yards as a wolf jumped at his friend. He noticed that were four trailing the lead one.
"Orcsbane. Daggedal Orcsbane at yer servace, m'lady."
He scratches his chin, which has a fair bit of stubble on it.
"Magic, m'lady. Scholar of magic, m'self, and wouldn't mind learnin' a few spells of this land. And, er, you can tell me 'bout the people. Always good to know what I'm dealin' with."
Rackham grinned with malicious glee, and he strove to run faster. He pressed a hidden button on his scythe, unfastening the blade at the bottom. He unraveled the chain connected to said blade, ready to launch it as soon as he drew close enough. His blood sang.
"Nirae! Five wolves," he bellowed, hoping his warning reached in time.
"It's nice to meet you Mr. Daggedal."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you much about magic. My uncle has taught me a few things about healing, but that's all. Except to work the teleporter rod."
"I know he learned the spells to contact you and bring you here from some of those books in his study. He's spent his life translating them, it was a project he worked on with Zaphiel. It is said only the chosen may practice magic untainted upon the land now. I think the sickness that afflicted that woman earlier was a result of this."
She walked as she spoke, leading Daggedal into a hallway. She passed a closed door that was immediately to their right proceeding a bit further along until the came to the middle of the hallway. To their right was a set of sliding double doors, and to their left appeared to be the entrance.
"Are you truly here to help my uncle?"
Daggedal stretched. "'course I am. I'm a soldier. I don't go back on me word.
What's with 'One of the Chosen?' I'm alf-dead 'already if I can't use me spells."
Lafiel smiled gently. "That's good to hear."
She opened up the sliding doors and walk through them. They openend up into a room with a stairway visible in front of them, extending up from the middle of the room, you could walk around it in either direction.
"The chosen are those special children born randomly. It usually runs in families, but isn't confined to them. They are marked by there hair color and then tested when they come of age."
She walked up the stairs which led to the end of another halway which extended left. In front of her was a doorway which she opened.
"Wait here," she said as she slipped in to room.
Drall tries to twist clockwise, turning away from the leaping wolf and toward the one clamped onto his wrist, reaching for a knife to slash at the wrist-wolf's eyes to dislodge it.
Drall's sword fell from his grasp as he lostpower in the hand. He turn slashed just mthe wolf across the eye Drall turned and his offhand slashed across the face of the wolf, missing the eye, but slashing the face and nose deeply.
The wolf gave a yelp as it lost it's grip and landed on top of the sword.
The wolf that had lunged at Drall, was hit in the side by Areal's thrown daggar. It's momentum carried it into Drall and both went down, the wolf biting into Drall's shoulder.
OOC: everyone in this group can move now.
O'karn grinned as he spun from the wolf, taking a massive step forward and bringing his sword down on the remaining wolves and the idiotic Drall in a mighty sloping strike.
Fearless Leader
I assume I'm within that range of him. If not, assume I take the necessary range of motion forward to slash the remaining enemies into pieces. Just a reminder too, if Drall is a good guy, my sword is extra hungry for his blood ^_^
Drall tries to kick the wolf in a sensitive area while checking if his left and right arms are able to be used. If his right arm can be used, he will try to pull back the white robe, hopefully dislodging the wolf. If his left arm can be used and is still holding the knife, he will slash at any part of the wolf he can reach.
As soon as he can, he will try to grab his fallen sword from under the wolf with his right hand, as long as he can still use it.
"Eek!" Miaka shrieked, opening her backpack and reaching into it. "Tamahome!"
Seeing Drall in trouble, Devon pulled out another throwing knife and, hampered by his wounded leg, hobbled around the ogre to the left in an attempt to get a clear shot at the wolf that Drall had slashed across the snout.
A flash of light lit the grass as Tamahome appeared, his resplendency paling only in comparison to Miaka herself. The white shirt with purple cuffs, covered by a silky orange vest looked to pretty to fight in, as he looked upon the battlefield.
Drall kicked and swung at the molesting beast, both blows striking, causing the Wolf to howl in pain.
Drall's screams joined the beasts as pain filled through his leg, a wolf nibbling at his ankle. Drall's hand reached for the blade, only to stop, when a cruel black blade sliced into his chest.
O'karn, who moved swiftly for a man of his bulk, had taken one large stride and sent his blade down through the foul beast, an into Drall's chest. THe sword cut through the clothing and light chain-mail the dying one wore.
Tamahome raised his silver sword, glistening in the sunlight. His hair fluttered as he moved, his ponytail swaying in the breeze. Bringing down his sword, everyone could hear the sickening crunch as cut deeply into the last wolf.
He looked up from his work, across the battlefield and smiled at his dear Miaka.
Miaka beamed at Tamahome, taking her hand out of her backpack, closing it and rushing over to her fiance.
Tamahome let his sword fall to his side and ran to meet his dear Miaka.
"Tamahome!" Miaka wailed, tackling him in a flying glomp. "I've missed you so much!"
Seeing the man with the silver sword appear and dispatch the last wolf, Devon slipped the knife back up his sleeve.
Looking with distaste at the dead or dying man, he cast a wary glance at the ogre as he cleaned and stowed his sword.
Tamahome caught his love in fierce hug. "I'm just glad you're safe," he whispered as he nestled his head into her hair.
Lafiel returned after a minute from the room.
The only glimpse Daggedal caught of it was one of a nicely lit room with white walls.
"You said once you gave your word you keep it. If I offered you this ring, which will not only protect you from the sickness that afflicts those you who use magic, and will amplify your power," she held out her hand and revealed a ring of gold and intertwined diamond, "to kill your colleagues and protect Zaphiel, would you?"
"I was scared," Miaka sniffed. "But I knew you'd come and save me!" She tightened the hold her arms had around Tamahome's waist.
Slightly amused with the spectacle the girl and the guy with the sword were making, Devon took the time to examine his wounds.
Nearly gone, Drall tries to reach into a hidden compartment in his cloak and grab his broken ancestral blade with one hand, while the other tries to put one on his unknown rings.
Tamahome started to glow, as he spoke. "I'd give my life for you, you know that."
He bent down, bestowing a kiss upon her hair as he faded into nothingness.
Miaka sniffed again, and stared longingly at the spot Tamahome had been at.
Drall, with his strenght slipping away, fumbles in the recesses of his cloak. He finds it, but dies before he can work it open.
Sighing, Miaka walked over to Arkanel. Upon reaching him, she said, "You are the one who contacted me, but you didn't mention anything about a girl helping you at the time." Quirking her head, she asked, "Who is this Lafiel, exactly?"
Arkanel looks at the young woman addressing him, a small smile crosses his face as he responds, "Lafiel is my niece. She is in training under me."
Miaka blinked. "Umm," she started saying, tapping her lips with her forefinger thoughtfully, "wouldn't that make her Zaphiel's daughter? Or do you have some other siblings?"
"Zaphiel is my brother of the order. He has no relationship to Lafiel," he said gruffly.
"Oh." Miaka smiled in relief. "Can you tell me more about this Order, then?"
"It is simply the brotherhood of clerics. Those of us who are born of the chosen, may enter the order and guide the people of these lands to a happy and peaceful lifestyle."
Devon found that his Achillies tendon had been ripped. He could put slight pressure on the foot, but not enough to stand on for any period of time. Blood still oozed from the tears.
"I think you mentioned something about chosen ones before," Miaka said thoughtfully. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she asked in rapid succession, "So, how many people are there in the guild? Are they all sages like you? How many sages are there outside the guild?" bombarding Arkanel with questions.
The man brightened and looked fondly upon the inquisitive child.
"The chosen are born in frequently among the people. They are distinquished because of their hair color, which is silver upon birth. Births of the chosen are very infrequent and far between. Those born, must pass the right of enlightenment when they reach the age of twenty five. Those who pass, are made members of the order, and study in Jerusalem. When they reach a certain age, they are sent to a villiage to help lead. I don't think anyone keeps the numbers of the chosen in the world, nor do I know ofhand the number of members in the order. I am the only chosen in Glendale to pass the rights and enter the order. There are three children of the chosen, of which, Lafiel is the eldest, a year away from her right. "
Sitting down, Devon pulled off his boot and reached into his backpack, pulling out a small, rugged looking device with a luminous display.
Placing the device next to the wound, he pressed a green button the display.
With a little click, a small panel on the underside of the device opened, releasing a half-dozen button-sized robots that immediately began to anesthetize, clean, and suture the wound. After a short while, the robots, finished with their task, returned to the device.
Stowing the device, he pulled out a bandage, wrapping it around his ankle, before pulling on his boot and standing.
"I see," Miaka drawled out. "So, there are three Chosen in the town, besides you. How many mages are there here besides you four?"
Arkanel responded to Miaka, "Mages don't exist on this world. The chosen, who have passed the rite can perform some small tasks of healing, but referring to us as mages would be an insult. It is also against the laws that govern the settlements here to practice arcane arts. Especially those which wrought so much destruction upon this world.
"Of the three chosen in town, only Lafiel knows of her abilities, as she is allowed some training in them before her rite is begun. The two other children are too young to begin, and won't for several years."
"Would you and Lafiel come with us to Camelot, then?" Miaka asked curiously. "And where is Camelot, anyway?"
Hearing Arkanel mention healing, Devon carefully moved over to where he and Miaka were talking.
"You mentioned some small healing ability, is there perhaps something you could do for my leg? As it is, it might be a liability if we are attacked again sometime in the near future."
"I will gladdly help you survey the area, if you like. But I am a bit old to participate in fights, and not sure that physically, I'd be able to accompany you in entering the grounds. I would strongly suggest... "Arkanel paused as he looked at the dead champion and then the Devon, using a strange contraption on his leg, "That if you are to have any chance, it would be to find a way to take on Zaphiel alone. That means sneaking into Camelot.
"Lafiel would glady go I fear, but she must not be put in such danger," his face looked fierce as he spoke.
"Camelot is located at the end of the valley, built agaist the mountain walls. Glendale is a short distance away, a mere ten miles."
He looked at Devon for a moment, before sighing, "I will do what I can, though I worry about your abilities to accomplish this task in light of your showing here today."
He knelt down and placed his hands upon Devon's legs.
Devon noticed the pain dissipating as Arkanel finished the healing the machines had started.
Frowning, Devon looked at the old man, "Do not fear for my abilities. Now knowing something of the danger this world offers, I shall not be caught off-guard like that again."
"You mentioned the town again," Miaka said, cocking her head. "Can something useful to our goal be found there?"
Arkanel nodded to Devon, a small smirk on his face before returning to the fair Miaka.
"It is the town I live in and serve, of course I would mention it. I assumed you would use it, my home specifically, as a base to plan. The town has a market, which might fill some needs, though you won't find anything directly concerning the art of war."
Arael retrieved her dagger from the fallen wolf and wiped it clean on its hide. After checking and failing to find some sign of life from the fallen warrior she closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to the Goddess.
"Arkanel," she called as she approached the wizard. "Why is it my that abilities turn upon themselves in this place?"
Arkanel turned to Arael.
"Which abilities are those? And how do they 'turn' against you?"
"My psionics. It's... well, psionics." She shrugged. "It's like asking me to tell you what magic is. And when I tried to levitate earlier all I got was a headache. What gives?"
Arkanel looked contemplative for a minute before he began to speak.
"Magic? Hmm... The ancient stories say that magic was forbidden to those not of the chosen..."
He looked a bit nervous as he regarded the young girl, "Maybe... this psionics you have doesn't exist on this world, or maybe it is magic, and magic is forbidden? Maybe this is how it is made forbidden?" he mused.
"Why were you trying to levitate?" He asked suddenly.
"Why? I, um, don'treallymuchlikewalkingandit'sfaster!" Arael rushed, waving her arms in front of her and laughing nervously. It was not exactly lying. Ramiel had been rather cross at her for flying around all the time back home.
"Magic doesn't work here? And you didn't tell this to us before, why? Oh, right. Forbidden. Crap. Isn't there a way around that?"
Arkanel looked at the girl quizically, not really understanding the first sentence all to well.
"I did not think the world would afflict you so, being from off world. It is not something I thought long about."
He turned and looked into the distance, moving his hand to his forehead and rubbing it gently.
"I seem to rember a passage from a book I was translating. It spoke of experiments with the natural laws of magic and ways to circumvent them. The book was battered, and that was the only passge I found concerning that; tThe rest of it was lost."
"Hmm," Arael muttered. "Magic's been forbidden for about a thousand year here, huh?"
Arkanel turns back to Arael and nods.
Devon walked over to the wolf he had stuck with a knife and retreived his blade, then he retraced the wolf's path in an attempt to retreive his other knife.
"Figures." Arael sighed deeply. This was very, very bad.
"And are there any tales, say before that war a thousand years ago, about none chosen
using magic?"
Devon easily removed the bloody blade from the wolf. He then went in search of his other blade in the calf-high grass, not finding it in the first five minutes of searching.
Frowning, Devon mentally reviewed the opening of the fight.
Walking over to the position he was in when he threw the knives, he walked along the path of the throw, searching for the weapon.
After about a minute of searching, Devon happily retrieved his knife.
Slipping the knives back into their sheaths, Devon moved back to the rest of the group.
O'karn grunted, withdrawing his blade and nodding approvingly at the other kill by the strange newcomer. At least that man was capable. O'karn took a moment to clean the filth off his blade. A cowardly fools blood like that wasn't worthy of even resting a moment on his blade. Taking a brief moment afterwards, he turned his eyes skyward, giving thanks for the bounty to the dark god Syfier. Lifting one of the wolves on his shoulder for later dinner, O'karn turned and appraised his comrades, his red streaked black eyes glaring fearsomely. "I hope that the rest of you scrawny humans aren't as incompetent as that fool." Glancing over at Devon who'd managed to recover while he was cleaning his blade, O'karn nodded. Some at least weren't totally useless.
Turning towards the human mage who'd called him here he grunted distastefully, addressing him in his gutteral common, "Human mage, why did you include such a worthless sack of flesh and bones among those you brought to defeat this Zaphiel? Why a single troop of my ogres would be more useful than the lot of these. The will of the god Syfier would certainly smile upon such a campaign rather than frown upon the inclusion of such bags of bone. Even though the high shaman of the Symook looked favorably upon this conquest, to start upon such fell omens..."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel looked a little startled at the accusation thrown at him from the imposing O'karn.
"As to him," he pointed at the corpse, "I could only take the words of those I spoke with. A test of skill was not available. The gods must have led my eyes astray when I found him, and not one of your clansmen. But, you were more than welcome to bring some of you brethren with you. I could have happily accommodated a few more of your tribe. Why did you not ask for them to be included," He looked sternly at the Ogre while he tightened the grip upon his staff tightened as he stood his ground
"Bah, useless. Well, human mage, if you have such power to open a gateway for my clansmen, do so. If not, then let us continue to the mountains. I am tired of standing on such weak earth surrounded by such green. I have no desire to be out in the open here come nightfall."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel snorted, but turned and walked towards the mountains.
Seeing Arkanel walking off, Devon did a quick search of Drall's body, taking any pouches, bags, backpack, and anything else he could identify as useful.
Doing a quick search, Devon found:
- A black lip ring
- A pouch on his belt that contains 4 vials(2 contain a dark blue liquid, and 2 that contain a crimson liquid), 50 gold pieces, and a flint and steel.
- On a broken belt formerly strapped across his chest, which was covered with blood and gore, he found 8 silver knives of varying sizes(5 were still usable)
- Two waterskins
- A long stiletto blade in each boot
- A short sword laid close to the body
- A sheath for the sword was still attached to the body
- light chain mail, with a gaping hole in the center
- a black cloak, soiled, but in one piece
- a small pouch of gems(3 diamonds, 2 rubies)
Showing not a bit a indication that he might of been at fault for not demanding ahead of time the mage bringing his clansmen, O'karn glanced over the others before leading the way, barely noticing the small knife wielder examining the cowards corpse, his massive footsteps following Arkanel's path.
Fearless Leader
Grabbing the pouches and waterskins, Devon tucked them into a side pocket on his backpack and followed after Arkanel and O'karn, quickening his pace to draw even with the ogre.
Arkanel led the four saviours in his group further towards the mountains.
OOC: I'm assuming Areal and miaka are following. If there's something either of you wanted done at the fight site, talk to me before you post. I'll assume it happened while O'karn and Arkanel were fighting. The only exception is Drall's body is off limits until after Devon leaves it.
As they approached the mountains, O'karn shifted the wolf on his shoulder, smiling toothily behind his mask. "Ah, now this is a proper place for living. Nice hard stone, towering peaks demanding the strength and showing the way of the world." Looking up at the path ahead, he wasn't intimidated in the least by the towering peaks before them, instead finding them comforting.
Fearless Leader
Nirae snarled, bringing her saber up in a neat thrust, designed to impale the wolf through the chest upon the silver blade, in one smooth motion.
Hardly even taking the time to blink, she allowed her saber to fall from her hands, already moving to draw her mace and hawk from her belts, prepared for the next rush. Her hazel eyes darting about trying to find her next target.
After all, she may be a Famous Pirate Captain now, but at one time she was still a young woman growing up in the forest and plains of Angreshem. She knew wolves. To be more precise she HATED wolves with a passion, a trait picked up through much studying of the animal in its natural habit, much like the other beasts which lived around her home as she grew.
And one thing she KNEW was that wolves NEVER would attack a two-legger by themselves without backup.
Devon walked in silence.
"I'm glad you approve," Arkanel responded as he stopped to look upon the scenery. They had walked for a couple miles in from the stone slab they had been summoned to in unending stream of high grass.
"The bend in the river is about a mile up ahead, there's a place to fjord as we find the road." He pointed
O'karn could tell the nearest peaks were about 2 ½ miles away, rising sharply into the air and capped in snow. He noticed they hadn't risen in elevation appreciably since they began their trek and couldn't make out any hills that normally led to mountains.
"Well then, let's us be off. Enough of these green fields, there be more trustworthy ground ahead." O'karn thundered, heading forward along the route Arkanel had dictated.
Fearless leader
Nirae felt the saber drive up into the wolf and released it. She ducked as it snapped at her face, her left hand reaching back, grabbed her hawk. She reached for her mace, finding the handle as a trailing animal impacted her chest, sending her flying back.
OOC: I'll post to Rackham in a minute, letting him know what he sees.
The companions continued to walk. The grass continued unabated as the mountains began to grow swiftly. The ground became hilly as they began to hear the sound of a river flowing. As they crested a nearby hill they saw the river, two small dirt roads cut in the grass ran along the banks, a bridge connecting the two side.
"Not far now." He turned to them.
"There are a few small farms outside the valley and some travel. If stopped allow me to do the speaking."
O'karn sniffs and nods. "You will deal with your fellow humans."
Fearless Leader
Rackham ran forward, screaming. His scythe raised and his chain spinning above his head. Nirae neatly dispatched the first wolf, but one of the trailers downed her. Two more flanked her, running up on either side while another lunged at her feet. He was still just sixty yards away running at full sprint.
Nirae rolled with the impact, falling to the ground in a slightly tucked position that allowed her to bring her legs into play by gathering them up under the wolf that had hit her chest and propelling them out with all of her fairly conciderable strength to fling the wolf from her.
Flowing though the thrust to throw the wolf, she leveraged upwards with her arms and tumbled fowards back onto her feet.
As she came towards a standing position, her right hand, having ripped her mace free of her belt, lashed out into the face of the wolf before her, even as she slashed to the side with her hawk.
Arkanel nodded and led them down the hill. Obtaining the path, he led them across the river, was only about 500 feet across, and towards the mountains.
Looking towards the mountains, they could tell there was a break in the range as the snow caps dissapeared. They terrain away from the river also began to get rockier and rise.
They spied a man tilling a field once, a few others untended in the early afternoon, but no one else was travelling the road. After another half-mile the stopped in front of a pass. The mountain that faced the river rose almost straight up, appearing as if someone had simply removed a section and placed a river there. The gap appeared to be about a quarter mile wide and extend forward as far as they could see.
The oddest part was the corners of the mountains facing them had two immense sculptures on them. Flowing robes extended from the ground, up the side of the mountains into two arms, which extended to hands placed together. A neck was also shown and two decidedly female faces looked skyward.
As Nirae fell, two sharp jaws clamped down on her chin, crushing her jaw. As she landed, she successfully flung the wolf away from her. A healthy portion of skin went with the animal.
Pain flared as teeth tore into her right forearm, left bicep, and calf.
Rakham hit the twenty yard mark. One wolf was landing on its back a few feet in front of Nirae, while three had their teeth in his friend.
Daggedal raised an eyebrow.
"'ye tryin' to insult me?"
As they were getting close to their destination, Miaka finally put on the white cloak Arkanel and Lafiel had given her, continuing to follow Arkanel.
Lafiel looked chagrined.
"It was a simple question," she responded. Placing the ring in a pocket of her skirt, she looked at Daggedal intently.
"What now?"
Arael finally broke her silence, the question nagging her relentlessly.
"Arkanel, are there any tales, say before that war a thousand years ago, about none chosen
using magic? I'm trying to understand the bigger picture here."
Rackham aimed toward the nearest wolf holding onto Nirae's arms.
As they walked, Devon examined the people they passed, observing their garb and the visible technology level.
Arkanel led the small group into the pass. He spoke as they traveled in-between the river and the sheer face of the mountain.
"The old wars had many mages. They were said to be of all races. Myth has it, that all who possessed the ability were exterminated, except for a chosen few. These were chosen because of the purity of their hearts and desires and became the founders of the order."
About halfway through the pass, a dozen riders rode up to them. They were dressed in brown tunics and pants, and all carried what appeared to be a small spear in their hands. They slowed to a stop and bowed in their saddles to Arkanel.
He nodded in return and led the party past them. No words were spoken from the riders or Arkanel.
No others crossed their paths.
Finally they reached the end of the narrow pass, opening up to a valley. In the distance, the party could make out the beginnings of a village. It was still a good mile away.
Arkanel stopped and turned to them. "That is the village up ahead. There is still time to travel to Camelot before dark, so you might see with your own eyes what I ask of you. Otherwise, I can lead you to my home, and we can talk a little more."
"We should head to the town first. You said that the others were going to be heading there with your assistant." Devon turned and swept a glance across the valley towards the village. 'It will also give me a chance to see how advanced their technology is...'
O'karn grunted indifferently.
Fearless Leader
"Anything that leads to lunch sounds good!" Miaka chirped excitedly.
"I'm with her!" Arael readily agreed. "Plus there are several more things I think you can help clarify."
Arkanel nodded and started walking towards the town.
As they continued along the river, they passed the occasional bridge. The mountains to the right receded, giving way to a small forest. To the left, the mountains gave way to pasture land. Farms popped up, and the adventurers could see pigs and cattle.
Devon noted that no machinery was seen and the few people they spied were dressed as peasants.
The road went straight, while the river turned to the east, meeting up with a large body of water. The other side visible in the distance. Looking out, they could see what appeared to be a small Island inside the lake. A few docks jutted out from the village.
The reached the outskirts of the village. Homes were scattered about and the dirt road turned into a brick one as they walked. Smoke was coming out of some of chimneys of the mostly brick houses, each smaller and containing one or two stories.
The humanoid populace was made up of light skinned people. The height of the adults ranged from four to six feet in height. A look of happiness and contentment showed on their faces.
The path they followed curved, they passed one then two larger buildings marked as inns before entering a market area. A few open areas sported iron workers, though the only weapons appeared to be spears and knives at only one shop, and food stalls. There was a bookseller, a tailor, a clothier, a few merchants, a stables. Another building that caught there attention appeared more like a warehouse, with a large stables attached to it. The occasional dock would pass them along the left, and one was larger than the rest, a boat moored that looked big enough to hold a hundred people.
After the market the appearance of the village improved, the houses along the lake taking on larger proportions, and a more pleasant appearance of whitewashed wood.
The people they passed, merely smiled and nodded, no one stopped to speak with them, though some gazes did linger.
Finally they made it to the largest house. The two stories were built in brick and wood, with an arched doorway that had three small steps leading up to it. A small stable was seen to the left, though it was empty. Akranel led them to the front door, reaching out, he opened it, revealing a small room which he entered.
"We're at my home. Be welcome. You may place any belongings you wish in this foyer. The room was decently sized, a rack for holding coats lined both sides, a shelf hung above each rack. There were a few cloaks already hanging up.
He opened the door on the other side, turning back to the O'karn, he said, "Watch your head." The doorways were both seven feet high while the room was ten.
ooc: if you have questions about anything you passed, feel free to ask. I didn't want to continue a little section at a time, but wanted you to know what the area looked like.
"What kinds of sweets does your world have?" Miaka asked for research purposes.
Arkanel turned to the young lady. "Types?"
"Let me see, there's chocolate, and sweat drops, and ice cream, and... I'm sure the children know better than I. Or one of the stores would have a list. I currently don't have in the house, sorry."
Miaka's face fell. "You don't even have ice-cream or chocolate in your home?"
"Food to passify naughty kids... No. I apologize, though. Lafiel stopped eating those things years ago and I never had the urge." She smiled placatingly at the girl.
"That pretty girl stopped eating sweets?!" Miaka all but yelled. "Unforgivable! I must set her straight on the path to deliverance!" The red-head took three steps into the house, before stopping in her tracks and returning to Arkanel. Blushing, she asked him, "Umm, where exactly is Lafiel?
"We lef ther behind, to escort the straglers here. Remember?" Arkanel chuckled softly in reply to Miaka.
Miaka laughed, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "Right. Her reeducation will have to wait, then."
Her face brightened considerably, as she thought of something. "Can we have lunch in the meanwhile?"
Miaka was trying not to salivate in anticipation. She really was.
O'karn grunted in extreme displeasure as he dumped the wolf he'd been carrying a little inside the stable. He'd come back for it later tonight to carve it into food. Crouching, he barely managed to get through the puny human doorway without breaking the damn thing. Standing back up, his head brushed against the ceiling as his eyebrow twitched in annoyance under his mask. He didn't like it here at all. The whole place felt confining and claustrophobic to him. Looking around after steping in, he was obviously antsy, head shifting this way and that. Crouching to get under the next of the puny human doorways, O'karn stepped into the main room with the others and the human mage.
Fearless Leader
Arkanel nodded to the little lady and turned. Going through the door, they entered a hallway that extended to their right and left. He led them to the right. Moving to the end of the hallway, there was a door in front of them, and one to the left. He led them through the door to the left, an impressively sized,(30 by 15) room.
A table, covered in a fine finish was in the center of the room. It appeared large enough to accomodate the 30 chairs that surrounded it. The chairs had high backs and and cushioned. The two end chairs had arm rests, also cushioined, though none of hte others did. Small tray stands stood in each corner, currently empty. No other furnishings were there.
The room contained 3 other doors, two on the left wall, one across from where they entered.
"If you'll all have a seat, I'll ask Clara to bring you all some food. She should have prepared some for our return here."
He bowed, and went to a door on the far left side of the room.
Arael looked around the room, the size not leaving her feeling impressed at all. Had it been made of diamonds, rubies, silver, and gold it would have had the same effect. The journey was not beginning on the best of conditions. Already one of their party had fallen to something as simple as wolves, and with the disaster the magic situation was turning out to be the future was looking grim indeed. How could the mage have been so incompetent as to not warn them about that 'little' fact? She tried, and failed miserably, to ignore the voice claiming she hadn't asked herself.
Now inside the house she removed the white robes the mage had given her. Sitting at the table, she began inspecting the garment for damage. She doubted she'd find anything, however, as she hadn't born the brunt of the earlier attack. Her companions...
What were their names again? Belatedly realizing no one besides herself had identified themselves she turned to those who would be her companions for the foreseeable future.
Turning to the Chinese clad girl she spoke.
"Um, I don't think I caught your name, miss...?"
"I'm Miaka Yuki, the Priestess of Suzaku!" the teenager replied cheerfully. Seeing the other girl take off her robe, she briefly contemplated doing the same, only to leave it on as a makeshift apron until lunch was over.
Smiling back at the girl the white-clothed replied, "I am Arael Saber, Shepherd of Zeal."
A priestess, how nice. ^_^
Arkanel left the room and quickly returned accompanied by a young girl carrying a tray containing a picture and 5 goblets. They were of simple design, metallic in appearance, and could hold about 8 ounces.
He sat at the head of the table, away from the door they had entered through as the woman placed a glass in front of each, pouring it with the red colored liquid.
"Thank you, Clara," he said.
She bowed leaving the room while Arkanel picked up his glass and drank from it.
"I thought we could all use a nice drink while we waited for the afternoon meal."
OOC:
Arael found her robe in perfect order
The GM wonders why Arael would call the wolves intelligent.
O'karn could fit on a chair, it had a high back and no armrests, but barely.
Arael looked at the red liquid for a moment.
"Um, might I have some water instead?"
Nirae cursed internally at the pain that flared up from the bites.
She could dimly hear Rackham's heavy foot falls through the pain.
"A little help would be nice!" She shouted through the pain, even as she lashed out with her free leg to hit the head, preferably the eyes and sensitive muzzle, of the wolf snarling over her calf.
Araknel smilled at the woman, and picked up a small bell that was situated in front of him. "I'll have Clara bring you in some. Anyone else?"
He rang the bell, which gave of a loud melodic twinkle.
O'karn followed along, stepping into the room after the others, still feeling anxious in the small corridor. Looking around as he entered the dinning room, he sniffed at the fragile extravagance. He glanced over the doors, keeping an eye out for other ways out of this tiny domicile.
Pulling off his mask, he finally revealed his yellow skinned and rough face to the others. His slightly enlarged canines and rough teeth gave him a bestial look. Putting the mask away in his pouch he moved over to the table, sitting down in one of the open chairs after glaring at it for a moment and mumbling under his breath. Sitting down he looked distastefully at the small glass, rudely sniffing at it and ignoring the human mages slave. Picking it up he took a sip before tossing it down distastefully, growling "Foul elf piss. Don't you have something with a bit of bite, mage?"
O'karn's opinion of the mage dropped further: scrawny, human, weak servants, and even serves elf piss. Nothing compared to the clerics of Syfier. Why in the world had he come out here when he could be enjoying the blood of battle upon the mountains of his fathers.
Fearless Leader
Nirae kicked at the wolf at her feet, scoring hits, but failing to dislodge the beast. Her right arm was freed as she felt the wolf remove flesh and clothing from her. And then the wolf at her left yelped, releasing her from its grasp.
Rackham let fly his weapon, tagging the wolf in the ribs. His blade sunk in, causing the wolf to squeal and release its hold of Nirae. As he entered the melee area, caught a glimpse of the thrown animal also returning to the fray.
Arkanel falshed with annoyance, before schooling his features and looking at O'karn, who still towered over him while seated.
"I have some gin and brandy, if you would like one of those?"
Clara walked into the room as he spoke.
"Acceptable," O'karn grunted.
Fearless Leader
"Clara. I think some of our guests would prefer water and brandy. Oh, and I think our friend," he nodded to O'karn, "would take his brandy with a goblet."
"As you wish." Her voice was soft and humble as she nodded and left the room.
Following the others into the house and through the hallways, Devon took a seat at the large table. Pulling down the cloth covering his face and taking off his sunglasses, he revealed green eyes and fine-boned, almost delicate features.
Taking a sip from the goblet in front of him, he gave Arael a sidelong glance, "My name is Devon."
Rackham, using his momentum from his running, kicked at the injured wolf in the throat, and then turned immediately to the thrown wolf pulling hard on his chain to dislodge the blade from the injured wolf.
He swung his scythe in a half circle, aiming toward the wolf's body.
Cute! Finally, something good on this world.
"Devon, was it?" Arael smiled sweetly at him, trying to radiate charm without actually using psionics. "That's a nice name." Ah, but there would be time for pleasantries later.
Turning toward the large yellow mountain- er, man, she spoke.
"And you, mighty warrior, who might you be?"
O'karn looked down at the scrawny female and grunted in response, "I am the chieftian of the Symook, O'Karn Gen'shair, son of O'krom Gen'shair, human female."
Fearless Leader
Clara returned shorty with another try filled with a pitcher, a glass carafe with a brown liguid in it, and another set of goblets.
Moving around the room, she served a glass of water to Miaka and Arael, and poured the brandy for O'karn.
"Leave the carafe for our friend," Arkanel said.
She nodded and placed the carafe in front of the Ogre. Before topping of the Sage's glass and leaving the room.
O'Karn's eyes were approving, though it wasn't like anyone could tell. Reaching down, he grabbed his goblet with his right hand and took a gulp of the brandy. "Better, though still weak."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel looked very annoyed for a moment, but said nothing for a minute.
He broke the silence, saying, "Now that we know who all of you are. Why don't we discuss what you'll need and more imporrtantly, when you'll be on your way?"
"Yes, there is that business about why we're here." Arael sipped her water for a moment before continuing.
"The way I see it, we have a very serious problem on our hands. There are several member of the party dependent on our magic and whatever it was that was done to this world, it's limiting our effectiveness greatly." She leaned slightly toward him, all business.
"We need to know what happened here, and more importantly, how can we fix it? Is there a way around this 'chosen' limit? This is a magical world, surely there have been cases you know of which could shed some light on this mystery. Artifacts from a previous age, channeling, something?"
OOC:Spelling correction
Arkanel sighed.
"The world is as it is because that is the way the original saviors left it."
"I had thought that outer-worlders like yourselves would be immune to the prohibition placed upon magic, not having the blood of the corrupt magicians that once ruled this land.
"Yes, it was a magical world, wondrous and terrible. Great wars were waged and finally enough was enough. Legend has it Camelot was the home of the greatest mages, who wished for only peace and study. They joined the war, not out of conquest and vengeance, but out of hope for peace. They finally won, but the land was devastated. You witnessed how barren of people this world is now. Even after 1000 years.
"That they possessed great power was known, what happened to them isn't. It is believed they inflected the world with the curse upon magic, except for those they deemed chosen, for something in their blood was pure.
"As to a way around it... Now that you are here, I fear I know nothing of such a thing, except the fear that Zaphiel has found a way.
Arael pressed on.
"In a thousand years no one but Zaphiel has tried to uncover those ancient magics? No one at all? I find that hard to believe, especially if the magic was as powerful as you claim.
Tell me, what distinguishes the chosen from any other person? You've said hair and perhaps something in their blood, but is there more to it than that? Are they simply able to learn magic and use it without ill effect or is the magic innate within them, able to be used regardless of scholarship?"
Arkanel looked a bit stunned at Arael's question. "For what purpose would anyone seek to bring back that which almost destroyed us? The power is ghastly, it was an abomination to this world. Peace is the power all should seek, that tenant is first in foremost of all our teachings..." he trailed off, and looked contemplative for a moment.
He gave a deep breath before continuing, "I'm not sure what you mean by innate versus scholarly. The chosen are born bearing their marks, making them all capable of bearing the burden. They are trained, as are people of all occupations. If I could discern better what knowledge you wished, I might be able to provide it better. The only thing I can think of to help, is that I preformed my first feat of healing before being officially trained. I suspect Lafiel did as well, but she has always been a bit headstrong."
"Ah, innate then," Arael nodded. As Ramiel would have put it, that sucked serious ass. This was turning out to be far more complicated than previously thought.
"As to who would try to obtain that power, just look at your brother. He knew the danger better than most, as he was a part of your brotherhood. He thought the reward better. It's a story as old as mankind.
"Tell me, do you think you might be able to create something that could shield use from these adverse effects of using magic on this world? If there are people who can use the magic without falling over there must be some way to repel the side effects of magic usage here."
Arkanel face took on an unpleasant cast when Arael mentioned his brother's actions, but his placat facade returned.
"Creating an artifact of magic is beyond my capabilities. And..." he stopped and considered a second before continuing, "I menitoned you could keep that which you found. I would greatly appreciate if you would remove from this world anything you find of that nature when you are done."
Arael idly removed one of her daggers, the Goddess's gift to her so long ago. Perhaps...
"If such items do exist here I assure you we won't hesitate to jack- er, liberate them with haste."
She tried to focus just a tiny bit of her psy through the weapon, trying to lift the some water from her cup.
O'Karn looked bored at the conversation. Filling up his goblet again, he took another drink.
Fearless Leader
Arael feels lighthead and nothing happens to the water.
Arkanel looked mollified at Arael's ascertation. "So shall we talk about your plans to get close and remove Zaphiel?"
Setting his goblet down, Devon gave Arkanel a piercing look.
"Do you have blueprints or a floorplan detailing Camelot's layout?"
"Unfortunately, no," Arkanel responded to Devon despondently.
Leaning forward in his chair slightly, Devon continued grilling his host.
"Do you know any legends or old stories associated with Camelot?"
"Nothing more substantial than the legends that it was the center of magic study. The home of the strongest and most noble of wizards. They gave up their power so that we might live in peace and prosperity. My hope is that they protected or destroyed the most fearful of their creations." He sounded worried as he continued speaking.
"It is now reveared as a holy place," he added sadly.
"You say that it is a holy place. Surely there must be some individual or group of individuals who saw to the daily upkeep of this holy place," Devon asked intently.
Arkanel answered Devon, "The holy land was unspoiled until Zaphile inhabited it. He has deliveries made from town every other day, but I know of no one who knows the place well that lives outside.
"What I do know is this: Their is a drainage system that is used for the moat, and I think the fortress itself. One of the kids saw it working and told me about it. It is surrounded by mountains on three sides, and two walls on the fourth."
Frowning in thought, Devon continued, "Can you describe this drainage system?"
"A hole in the ground that led to an underground tunnel that had water in it. It was found a mere 1/2 mile from Camelot, with flowing water in it. I did not investigate much further, but it was pointing in the direction of the citadel there was another pipe found draining into the river bank, west of here that feeds the lake," Arkanel responded again.
Nodding thoughtfully, Devon pondered, "I would prefer to get a look at the area myself, how far is it to Camelot?"
"Camelot is not far, maybe 4 miles from here," Arkenal responded.
Clara chose that moment to walk in. She carried a large tray that was propped up on her shoulder. Steam could be seen rising from the cooked pig that was visible. The weight of the food seemed to strain the poor girl as she walked up to O'karn.
She carefully lowered it onto the table in front of the man, removing a carving knife and large fork(that was used for carving), and placing them down next to the roast pig.
"I couldn't find any larger utensils. I hope these will do?" she asked.
"Do you know where Camelot gets it's water?" Devon asked as he glanced at the large platter.
"Camelot's water comes from a waterfall located behind it. I saw it when I visited to try and talk Zaphiel into returning to the ways of peace," Arkanel answered Devon.
O'Karn grinned toothily, quite pleased, "Aye, that will do nicely, human."
Grabbing the cutelery, he dug into the big pig, slicing a hefty chunk off and eating it with abandon.
Fearless Leader
"How many people live in this valley and the surrounding areas?" Devon asked, having noted the sparseness of the population.
Clara smiled nervously, and turned to the others. "Yours will be in momentarily."
She walked away and then stopped. Turning back to O'karn, she said, "Ah... Mr... monster sir. I wasn't sure if one was enough, so I made another if you want it. Just let my master know." She turned and exited the room.
"Very few people live outside the valley. Maybe 50. In the city, there are a few thousand, including the farms outside the city limits. The castle, while I'm sure it holds up to a thousand, I don't know it's current population. I don't understand, but the supplies they're ordering are for more than could have migrated from this town." He looked down at his hands frowning as he talked.
Devon leaned back in his chair and pondered for a moment, "Can you give an estimate on how many people the supplies that they are ordering could feed?"
"A wagon load of foodstuff every two days. Occasoinally a second wagon. I'm not that good at estimations like that. A couple hudred," he responded.
Clara returned, placing a plate of sliced pork and corn on in front of the others. A fork and knife was given to each along with a cloth napkin.
"If you need anything else, let me know," she said politely before withrawing.
Daggedal snorts. "Well, aye hope that at least magick equipment works. Seems the idiot sage didn' decide ta warn us. Feh. Dos 'e know nuffin' 'bout the people 'es 'ired?"
Lafiel looked at Daggedal quizzically, "Magic equipment?" She looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Oh, you mean rings and the teleporter device!" she exclaimed happily. "They work, or at least mine does."
"You have such a strange way of saying things. And My uncle didn't tell me about what he looked for when he recruited. Maybe he thought you'd be capable of using your magic, being from a different planet or dimension or whatever. Anyway, standing in the hallway is getting nothing accomplished. Did you want to go wait for your friends somewhere and talk?"
She took a few steps down the hallway and looked back expectently at Daggedal, the halwway, whihc moved perpendicular to the stairs they had walked up, led past two doorways to the right, one to the left, and ended in a stairway leading down.
Glancing at the large, roasted pig in front of O'karn, Miaka asked hopefully, "Could I get the big guy's portion as well?"
Akranel looked astonished, but nodded to the young girl. He rang the bell, and Clara entered.
"The young lady would like her own animal as well," he said, strain evident in his voice.
Clara smiled and then nodded before withdrawing.
Miaka resisted clapping her hands, and just beamed at Arkanel, before turning to look anxiously in the direction Clara had left.
"I couldn't help but notice that you possessed some healing ability," Devon smiled ruefully. "Do you perchance know where we could obtain any items that mimic this ability?"
Arkanel responded to Devon, "A merchant in the city has been known to mix some salves that will help with cuts and infections. He also has some potions that will releave fever or minor stomach problems. Although nothing he sells is really comparible with the aid I gave you earlier."
Clara returned, carrying a nicely roasted pig and set it down in front of Miaka.
She stood there for a second, looking at the small girl intently.
"Clara, you may leave," Arkanel ordered.
The girl looked shamefaced, but mumbled an apology and left.
Miaka thanked Clara before she left the hearing range, digging into the food with her normal gusto afterwards. "I have something that might help there," she got out between bites, in reply to Devon's question.
"Ah, Miaka, was it? What is it that you have?" Devon inquired.
"Some really nifty white powder!" Miaka chirped, having eaten a third of the pig already. "You snort it, and you're as good as new!"
"You... snort it?" Devon sounded dubious.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Miaka replied defensively, her voice taking on a hurt tone.
O'karn boisteriously laughed at the young girl as he ripped off another huge hunk of the pig and viciously mauled it with his teeth. Thinking a bit he looked at the human mage, Arkanel, "You come with us to fight Zaphiel."
Fearless Leader
"I apologize, I meant no offense," Devon attempted to placate Miaka.
"I've just never heard of a healing compound that you snort, although I wouldn't discount the possibility of it existing. Thoth knows, I've seen stranger things."
"I've seen very strange things, too," Miaka said with a nod, her voice softening. "Like the very ugly woman who gave it to me." Blushing, she said the next sentence in a rush. "Well, she gave it to Mitsukake, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me borrowing it!"
Nodding Devon quirked an eyebrow at Miaka, "So, who was that man with the silver sword?"
Miaka's eyes sparkled, stopping short of glowing. "He's my fiance!" she enthused. Sakura petals appeared all around her, and a string quartet began playing the Barney theme song in the background. "We love each other very much-- well, I also love Yui-chan, but she kinda wants to kill me at the moment, though I'm hoping it's only temporary," Miaka said gushingly. She sighed, and took out a picture of her dear girlfriend, staring at it longingly.
"Did you summon him to the fight?" Devon asked between bites of food. "Or did he come under his own power?"
"Umm...." Miaka thought about the question, after being startled from her reverie. "A little bit of both, maybe? Tamahome is the Celestial Warrior of Suzaku, so we both serve Suzaku. I think that Suzaku lends us his power, when we need it the most," she finally answered, being uncharacteristically introverted.
"Suzaku... is a deity?" Devon paused with his fork hovering over his plate.
"Of course he is," Miaka answered, looking at Devon strangely. "He's the Phoenix God that protects the land of Konan."
Arkanel put down his utensils when addressed. He had been delicately eating his meal, for all appearances ignoring the banter around him.
His brow furrowed as he looked at his impressively sized guest. "I would be of less use to you, than the 'Stupid scrawny human.'"
"Then, that would mean that you are a priestess?" the inquisitive elf inquired.
Running at a breakneck speed, the scholar, Jeremiah Arnesworth traversed the blackened night of London. He was late, but he needed to say one last good-bye to his dearest Catherine. His reasons for going were something he couldn't really verbalize, at least not to the sweat girl he hoped to marry one day. Worry overran him as he tried to slow the flow of time around him, while adding strength and speed to his legs, heedless of the paradox created.
Rounding the last corner, his bag slung upon his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of a pillar of light centered on the spot he had promised to be at five minutes ago.
He watched in dismay as it started to compact, and he cried out in frustration as it disappeared. "At least let me catch the residual magic," he thought as he began to scry the area.
He found something, but the not the residual signature he was looking for, but the live magic. Trying desperately to hitch himself to it, he never noticed as the universe smacked him, having had more than enough of the troublesome boy.
His magic was entangled, and his mind put to sleep as he was pulled from his world. Paradox is a funny thing, and the universe is lazy. Another traveler through the hastily created and un-expertly designed portals had also angered the cosmos, and Jeremiah found his essence combined with the boy while they traveled through the holes in space and time.
They appeared on a stone slab, both looking out through the same body as a group of strangers moved around them. They could hear and understand, stopping to pick up the small bag and robe before the woman, Lafiel, brought them, two minds and one body to a small room. She left them there, unaware of the additional persona.
The universe had finally decided, punishment had been meted, and relented. The magic used to transport them the many miles was allowed to spill over, and undue what had been done. Unbeknownst to their host, or the man that followed her, Remdos B. Chez's body materialized, and took his mind and soul with it.
The experience left both men weary, and they feinted on the floor. Awoken much later by the heavy footfalls heard upstairs.
Miaka's face adopted an upset expression. "That's what I said when Miss Arael asked me, 'Priestess of Suzaku'. Do you want to catch me on some lie, or are you just making fun of me?" she asked him angrily. "I don't want to talk with you anymore."
Huffing disdainfully, Miaka went back to devouring her meal, albeit more violently than previously.
Devon gazed inscrutably at Miaka for a moment, before turning his attention to the meal in front of him.
Watching the odd spectacle of the young priestess eating enough food to feed a family by herself, Arael finally took the time to examine the contents of the bag she was given earlier.
Arael found what appeared to be three diamonds and two rubys.
With an groan, Jeremiah put a hand to his head and sat up, looking around iritably to find the source of the noise . . .
As hard as he might, Jeremiah couldn't ascertain the source of the noise, save that it was pounding.
Looking around, he found himself in smallish room with two bookshelves, overflowing with old tomes. A desk was situated opposite the books, and it was cluttered with books as well. There were no windows, and the acrid stench of old smoke filled the small enclosure. A single wooden door stood closed to a side.
A small table was set up in the middle, displaying only a small pyramid shaped object, it's top tip was a muted red.
A man lay near him on the floor.
Putting a hand to his now-throbbing-headache, Jeremiah stood up and poked the unconscious man with a booted foot.
Not too hard, though.
"What's the standard currency around here?" Arael asked their host. She replaced the precious stones and put the bag away.
"The gilder," Arkanel responded to Arael's curious question.
"I have no idea what that is," Arael spoke truthfully. "Mind showing us?"
O'Karn shook his head distastefully, "I dislike this, human mage. No other chosen has the guts to join us against your brother?" O'karn sniffed, "I am not such a fool as to wish to fight against the forces of the mystic without the aid of the gods on my side."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel rings his bell, a few moments later Clara walks in.
"I'm sorry to be a bother, would you happen to have any coin on you, so that the young lady's curiosity may be sated." He nodded his head towards Arael.
Clara nodded, and then left the room. A minute later she returned carrying a small pouch. Walking up to Arael, she pulled forth from her bag a few golden coins, holding her hand out to Arael.
Arkanel looked pained at his rebuke and then stiffened in his chair.
"You brought nothing to aid yourself?! You are so woefully equipted that an man, who knows little except healing, will make a difference? If warfare were my buisness, or any others of the chosen, would I have need of you at all!
"Gods you speak of! If there were gods, this travesty would not have happened, Zaphiel would have been content with his life, and not saught to improve his position with the tyranny of foul magics! The ancients were prudent in their ways... and now, you, who have taken my gems, and promised your help balk because your opponent may have some way of doing things that you lack!"
"Gold pieces?" She tried very hard not to sigh. Gold generally was the standard adventure coin, in RPGs, that is. It was almost surreal to look upon them now.
Hearing O'Karn's words she turned her attention back to the mage.
"Foolish mage, Syfier has favored this quest, and so shall victory be ours. Do not speak fell of the gods or I shall rend your head from your shoulders. Even so, I am no mans slave or fool. I shall go about this in my own manner, understand? Zaphiel will die, one way or another. And your promise will be upheld...or I will burn this whole city to the ground. I thought your 'chosen' were true 'chosen' of the gods. Now I see by your words this is not so. So be it. I have no need for scrawny humans who hide behind their gems."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel sighs, strain leaving his face as he looks up at O'karn and nods.
Clara looked at Arael strangely and realizing she was being dismissed, without even a thank you like the other woman had given her, she placed the coins back in her bag and left the room.
"Mage, I would have the best maps of the area that you can provide. They will be of use in storming the fortress, even if you do not have maps of the fortress itself."
Fearless Leader
"I have some around here. If you will excuse me."
He stood, and walked out of the room.
Smiling warmly at Clara, Miaka said, "The food is really good! Thanks!"
Arkanel returned a few minutes later, carrying an accordian folder with a flap that held it closed. Sitting at the table, he opened it, and leafed through the a few documents, pulling one, then two, and finally a third from the folder before closing it.
He passed the documents to O'karn. "These are the best maps I have of the valley, the city, and the world."
Pushing the empty platter a little away from himself, he glanced over the table, looking for something to clean his hands before handling the maps. "Human, your cookslave is quite good."
Fearless Leader
O'karn found the cloth napkins that Clara had left earlier.
Arkanel looked up from his eating. "I'm glad you think so."
O'karn roughly cleaned his hands off before taking the maps carefully. Putting two of them down still folded, he unfolded the first map, looking over it with a trained eye.
Fearless Leader
Daggedal heads down the stairs..
"Aye'll af to ave a word with Orkanel, then."
Nodding to herself, not totally understanding what the man meant, she led him down the hallway and then down the stairs. The stairs opened up to a room, a wall guarded the left, but the right was open to look upon what appeared to be a a pantry.
A small table was situated in the middle of it with four small chairs around it. A boy sat with a young girl and both looked up gained the stairs, neither saying a word.
Cupboards and caibinents lined the walls and two doors could be seen, one leading under the stairs and one leading
When they dismounted the stairs, they turned, going back in the direction they had come, past a large kitchen.
Cuttlery and a kitchen were visible, a few tables, one with a freshly cooked pig upon it. Two doorways marked this room, one to their left and one straight ahead.
Two small windows were opened to their left, showing a view of a yard that ended on the lake. Opening the door, Lafiel led Daggedal into the dining room.
"I'm glad to see you made it uncle. I need to go check on the the others that came."
Arkanel nodded in return and she walked across the room, leaving through the door the others had entered.
"Orkanel! Ye'd best 'ave a good reason for not tellin' me 'bout the constraints of this world!" swears Daggedal, looking somewhat angry as he makes for the sage..
O'karn opened the first map, it was a rough sketch of the valley. An egg shaped area, with the pass they had entered shown near the bottom of the egg. A large lake took up a good portion of it.
The village was marked, on the northern side of the lake, near the western or larger oval of the egg.
The pass into the valley was on the southern side near the eastern end, with Camelot shown as nothing but a shaded area to the west, smaller end of the egg.
Farmland was shaded between the city and the pass, bending around the lake.
Two rivers were clearly marked, one leading from the mountains to the north, into the lake, and one leading from the lake through the pass.
Arkanel looks at the angry Daggedal and shakes his head in dismay.
"I know little of the workings of magic, only that the chosen could perform some small feats of it. Until you came, I was not sure if it just wasn't possible for others or actively punished, as it has proven to be. I apologize for my lack of knowledge but thruthfully believed you from other worlds would not be infuenced."
Daggedal snorted.
"Don't apologize. Yer a sage, correct? Then go stoody. Find a 'ay fer us ta cast our spells, or I'll just pick up and 'eave."
As Jeremiah gets a groggy response from the other prone person, the door opens and Lafiel walks in.
"Oh!" she exclaims, spying two people in the room when she expected one.
"How did... never mind, the others are waiting, you can explain to Arkanel." She turned and motioned for them to follow.
O'karn nodded and closed the map, putting it in his bag. Taking the next one he opened it, his eyes taking a brief glance at the uppity human before going back to taking in what was important.
Fearless Leader
Arkanel looked flabbergasted at the newcomer. He moved a hand over his temple and rubbed it slowly. "magic.. magic...," he murmered. "Why is that affliction so important? I can go study, but how long will you sit here and do nothing until your toy is returned? A day? A month? A week? Will you be sitting here when Zaphiel comes and destroys us all after he's found all the answers?"
O'karn opened a map of the city. The diagramed area sat between the lake and the mountain wall. There were houses and streets marked. A few other things were marked: two market area's marked, along with a Hunters' Lodge, City Council, and Arkanel's house.
Daggedal snorts at Arkanels words.
"Bloody 'ell, Orkanel. Yer making several large assumptions. If ye'd take a moment to sit back and bloody *think*, ye'd realise that without our... 'toy', some of us may well be less dan half as capable as with it.
I dun know about you, but good tactics aren't charging forward when ye can't be assured of at least a *reasonable* chance of victry. Ye ambush, ye raid, ye scout, ye spy, ye don't bloody sit around as 'ye seem to be suggestin'.
We ain't godly heroes. We need *every tool* at our disposal, 'ye understand? If this guy's as powerful as ye lead me to believe, I'll not simply rush into things!"
O'karn frowned as he folded up that one too and put it with his stuff.
Opening the last one he looked over it.
Fearless Leader
O'karn opened a map of the world. A single continent was shown, shaped like a large half oval. The upper border was marked as mountains, and the city was marked just inside the mountains, a little to the left. The landmass was bordered by water on its other edges. City names were visible, scattered throughout the map, and Jerusalem was marked with a large star, near the center.
O'karn grunted as he folded up the map, turning and interrupting the small human warrior. "Human mage, do you have a map of the mountains, or know of a ranger who crosses them regularly."
Fearless Leader
Arkanel sputtered, face turning crimson with blue shades as he listened. He hands, clenched the table, knuckles turning white. He took a few deep breaths, before he grated out, "Then go scout! go raid! go do whatever it is you need to prepare!" he stood up and took a couple deep breaths, before starting to walk around the table, away from O'karn's side, and towards the door Lafiel had just exited, " Lafiel has a rod that will transport you to its base, and that base is located in the basement. I will go study and get these things. Then I will study, as you suggest, and maybe, just maybe, you whom are supposed to be experts in warfare, will do something except badger me about what you no longer seem to have!"
Arkanel heard O'karn's question before he reached the door. "There are a few people who take trips into the mountains for sport. I shall ask for the best one of them to be fetched and put at your disposal," he answered, before leaving the room.
Remdos felt a poke at his side and groaned at his head exploded with pain, a gift from the universe it's detonation triggered by his return to consciousness.
"Where the bloody hell am I?" he muttered groggily, his hand going for his forehead as he lifted his head.
As he lifted his head, a girl entered his spotty field of vision, and said something. His head was pounding too much at the moment, but he still got the jist of it. Arkanel, the bloody wizard who'd offered him this job, was around.
'I'm gonna have to speak with the bastard about his transportation method,' he thought as the dark spots in his sight began to vanish, allowing him to also notice a man besides, probably the one who woke him up to the bloody nice headache.
Pushing himself onto a sitting position, he began to move his free hand around the floor, trying to grasp for his belongings.
"...my bow?" he muttered questioningly as he also began to use his eyes to search for his weapon.
Remdos found everything as he had packed it.
Remdos gave a sigh of relief, as he tightened his hold on the bow. Standing up, he spoke, "Alright, lead the way, uhm..."
He wondered what the girl's name was. Actually, he wondered what the name was of the guy nearby as well.
Lafiel nodded, and looked at the two men briefly before turning and walking up the stairs.
At the top, she turned right and opened a door, leading them into a dining room. Arkanel was menitoning something about getting someone for them. Five others were present, four seated and one standing on the far side of the room.
Nirae hissed with pain, but threw herself out of the way of Rackham's scythe as best she could as soon as she felt the wolves' teeth release her.
Rackham thundered on the scene, kicking the injured wolf in its side, causing it to howl in pain. His scythe fell, slicing open the beast leaping for his friend's head. It fell on its side whimpering for a moment before falling silent.
Nirae threw herself out of the way of the scythe, leaving the mace from her arm behind. The wolf on that side attacked again, sinking its teeth into her neck. The other continued to chew on her legs. She began to feel weak.
Nirae slashed down with her hawk at the wolf on her legs, aiming at his neck but just hoping for a solid strike, hoping that Rackham would disengage the one from her neck.
Something was strange... these wolves... they didn't act like regular wolves...
Her eyes narrowed both from the pain and the sudden thought that had occured to her.
Normal wolves would have run off by now...
Rackham roared his anger, swinging with might at the wolf holding Nirae's neck.
He swung in a three-fourths circle, aiming at the beast's body as to not accidently hit Nirae.
Nirae and Rackham both swung. Nirae scored a hit, sinking her axe into her attackers back. Rackham, swinging to avoid his friend, sank the mighty scythe into the wolf's side. The wolf yelped, and Nirae lost a little more skin. Both followed up with second blows, killing the last of the wolves.
Rackham did not let his guard down. He stood holding his scythe tightly and snarling, peering in every direction for any more signs of danger and checking if any of the wolves were still alive. He did so by going to each wolf's body and stricking at the throat with his scythe.
Rackham sliced the wolves' necks, ensuring they are all very dead. He sees nothing as he looks around.
As Rackham's bloodlust calmed down some, he rushed over to Nirae to check her injuries. His hand did not leave his scythe, nor did he stop looking around every once in while for any other possible threats.
Visually Rackham could see blood flowing freely from her neck, chin, and left leg, and both arms, chuncks of skin were missing from her chin and right arm... she was a mess.
ooc: you've had a few moves so you're paused until Nirae posts again.
"Oh, we'll be doin' that. At least, as best we canna manage."
He turns and starts looking up and down the motley group of individuals, with something of a raised eyebrow at the ogre.
"'ell, this'll be interesting, no doubt. Oi, Orkanel. Mind if we borrow dat teleporting thing your niece has? Cood prove usful."
O'Karn stood, overlooking the crew. Not much to work with. Only scrawny humans. "Humans, know this. I will work with you as long as you don't get in my way. Become trouble, and I shall deal with you swiftly."
Fearless Leader
"Ah, good you're here. Lafiel, give me that rod," Arkanel said, looking at the girl intently.
"Wha...?" she flashed a quick glance at Daggedal, before producing the small rod and handing it to Arkanel.
"I need you get Jared to fetch Nevin. Our friends want to know about the mountains. And also get the anchor for the rod."
She nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly and lips pursed, before walking out of the room.
Following Lafiel into the room, Jeremiah stepped to the side to allow the bow-carrying man behind him through the door.
Calmly surveying the room, his gaze eventually settled on the old git. It was a mildly baleful gaze, too, Jeremiah felt slightly proud of it. He had practiced for a long time to get this sort of look right, and gratifying it was to be given the chance to use it.
Standing, Devon walked over to O'karn, "Might I see the map of the valley?"
O'karn turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes down at the human's request before reaching into his bag and handing him the map he'd asked for. "Know well the terrain human."
Fearless Leader
Nodding in thanks, Devon returned to his seat and studied the map.
Remdos scratched his chin and raised an eyebrow at the departing girl, who'd failed to take the hint to introduce herself. 'Well, either that, or I was dumped before I could think to even flirt.'
As the other fellow followed the girl, he likewise headed for the door, and followed to where the others had gathered.
He stopped to take in the environment and noticing Arkanel, he cleared his throat, trying to get the old man's attention. "Feel free to explain why you didn't mention your little transportation trick left me feeling like bloody shit, not to mention unconscious for a while."
"Any little tidbit you forgot to mention that might leave me feeling like shit again would likewise be appreciated," he added with no small amount of sarcasm in his tone.
"You're here, aren't you?" he responded instantly and then rang the serving bell.
"Which I don't understand. I thought you declined, not appearing when the others did?"
Clara walked in.
"I need a bottle of Brandy," he ordered.
Clara nodded and left the room.
Devon opened the map of the valley. An egg shaped area, with the pass they had entered shown near the bottom of the egg, on the south west protion. A large lake took up a good portion of the valley.
The village was marked, on the northern side of the lake, near the western or larger oval of the egg.
The pass into the valley was on the southern side, with Camelot shown as nothing but a shaded area to the west, smaller end of the egg.
Farmland was shaded between the city and the pass, bending around the lake.
Two rivers were clearly marked, one leading from the mountains to the north, into the lake, and one leading from the lake through the pass.
Remdos grumbled. "If I had indeed declined, I bloody well wouldn't be here at all, now would I?"
Sighing, he looked for a free seat as he continued. "Well, seeing as I am here, care to fill me in on the details of anything I need to catch up on since your headache inducing summons?"
Nirae cursed, quite colorfully, as she took stock of her injuries.
It was pretty bad, but still, in all the time she'd spent sailing on the Dragon Wing with Rackham, she'd been in worse shape.
So thinking, she dug her needle and thread out of her map case and set to sewing up the worse of the gashes on her legs and arms. Sure it hurt like hell, but it was a damn sight better than bleeding to death.
Bandages torn from the canvas sheeting she carried served to staunch the bleeding from her chin and neck, until she could get better healing.
With a sigh, she looked up at Rackham, grinning wryly.
"Looks like it's us against the world again, hey, old friend?"
^_^
Arkanel informed Remdos and Jeremiah of the trip here and conversations along the way, taking great pleasure in mentioning the inept handling of the wolves.
Lafiel returned through the kitchen door, holding a pyramid object, about two feet on each side. The tip was the color of a dull red duby.
She placed it on the table in front of Akranel.
He looked at Daggedal and held forth the rod he had received from the girl earlier.
"This can be used one of two ways. There's a button here, at the bottom," he showed the button, "Or one of the chosen can think for it to be activated and it will. The rod will transport up to four people to the place the pyramid sits."
He placed the rod upon the table.
Nirae slowly binds her wounds, stopping the bleeding and preparing for the some much needed natural healing.
ooc: You're both free to move.
"Wait, can you explain the magic bit then?" Remdos asked after hearing the tale of what he'd missed. "Does it affect any usage of magic, including magical items, or just people trying to use it by zapping them with a headache?"
While Remdos didn't want to have to be using his bow's magical attack in the first place, not having the option to use it would be a hindrance if the need truly came up, and worse, he didn't want to risk wasting a light arrow on testing it's usability.
Clara returned, bringing a bottle of a brown liquid with her. She placed it and another goblet in front of Arkanel.
He poured a healthy portion of it and drank it in one gulp.
Turning to Remdos, he said, "I don't know. But his," pointing to O'karn, 'bit black sword was glowing. So I guess magic constructs work."
Relieved, (but not showing it), Rackham squatted next to Nirae and grasped his white robe with both hands, ripping it. He then proceded to make bandages and handed them over to Nirae. "Here, I suspect this will work better than canvas."
He then pulled his backback from his shoulders, and rummaged through it, and finally pulled out a flask with a red liquid. "Drink this in small sips, I suspect we'll be needing every drop in the future."
Rackham also pulled out his cloak and put that on.
Nirae sniffed it, recognizing a healing draft, and took down a few sips with a grimace.
At least it was a alchemcic draft and not a magical one.
She supposed, using Rackham's robe-bandages to bind up her stitched wounds.
"Hmm. Ah see. Thank ye."
Daggedal looks over at the maps and makes a note to study them in a moment.
"IF I cannae cast spells, mae'swell wear some armour. Orkanel, are there any 'smiths you ken reccomend fer me?"
Finished with her portion, Miaka sighed in content. "If onyl Tamahome could be here to share this bliss with me," she murmured wistfully.
Looking at Daggedal, Arkanel responds, "Ashitaka is the best iron working in the city, and Terrance is the best clothier. They are both located in the market district, perhaps they could see to your needs."
Nirae felt better as she drank from the bottle. The few sips enough to start the mending of her jaw. It was still sore, but she felt most of the bones were in the correct place now.
Rackham eyed Nirae with a critical eye. "Here, sip some more."
Satisfied that she was not going to die on him anytime soon, Rackham went about ensuring that the three wolves he kill had their throats slit enough to allow the blood to drain. He glanced the other two Nirae had killed, but out of respect ignored them. Rackham then begain doing an intent search for a stone or rock suitable enough for scrapeing, never straying far from Nirae.
Remdos nodded, thankful his bow wasn't weakened from the ordeal. If another enchanted weapon worked, so should his.
Still... "Why don't you have the people having problems with magic transported back to their world then, build or enchant some magical armor or weapons, then come back here with them, then? Wouldn't that solve the problems somewhat until you can figure a way for them to use it safely?"
After a intensive search, Rackham found a stone the size of a fist, with a relative flat side.
Finished with his perusal of the map, Devon handed it back to O'karn.
Arkanel sighed, and took another swig of his brandy. "If you wish to go back, you can. But how much more will Zaphiel have uncovered in your absence? How much more harder will the task be? Will those who don't wish to go back, just sit and wait till you return? Or will they finish the deed I have asked of them, taking the treasure and reward for themselves."
Remdos shrugged. "Hey, it's not like it really affects me, I don't use magic like that so I don't have a problem. Was just offering what I thought was a viable alternative for those who do."
Arael frowned. "Well it does affect me. How long would it take to go back and return? And how much time is passing between our worlds, that we would need to be concerned about returning to a conquered world?"
Arkanel frowned. "I can only assume the trip is instantaneous. But how long would it take you to procure the item you needed? A day? A month? Should I check on you once a day? How will I know you have finished? If you have such an item on your world, why didn't you bring it before?"
Sighing, she tried to reign in her temper. "Look, you're basically asking us why we didn't bring knives to a gun fight. We were not aware that our tools would be affected thusly. Do you blame the merchant for not having shovels if he didn't know that a landslide would bar his path?"
Arkanel looked askance. "I do not know what are knives and what are these guns you speak of, but you and your friend," he nodded to Remdos, " are the ones asking to go get your knives. I merely asked, why you didn't bring the knives if they were worth anything in the first place? Are the 'guns' that you can't use now so powerful that your knives are like stones to their river? And if you get them now, won't they still be stones to Zaphiles river?
"And if the merchant didn't bring a shovel when traveling places that might have a landslide, I would blame him. For, I would assume he would stock shovels. If he didn't sell them, I would assume he'd have one handy when traveling a place where a landslide might happen. He'd also should have a spare part or two for his wagon, an extra shoe for his horse, etc..."
Taking back the map, O'karn put it in his back, turning on the others and looking the halfwits over. "We leave at dawn for the mountains containing the fortress. The head of the puny mortal will not lay on his shoulders when we leave. I expect the guide will be here shortly, mage. I find this house stiffling. I will be outside waiting."
With that O'Karn moved for the doorway, heading back outside to wait for the ranger that had been summoned.
Fearless Leader
Arkanel called out to O'karn before he could get to the door.
"There's more room out back, if you wanted to post a tent or bedroll - the door behind me. There's also beds in the basement, although you seem to not like being inside, the others might feel different. I'll send him outside when he arrives."
O'Karn paused a second, and nodded, the only acknowledgement he gave to the mages words. Stepping outside the huge ogre looked around.
Fearless Leader
O'karn walked out the front door. He stood on the steps in front of the front door, there was a small yard in front that wrapped around the house out back.
OOC: after some confusion, here's who is in the dining room.
Arkanel, Lafiel, Miaka, Arael, Devon, Remdos, Daggedal, Jeremiah.
Spotting Arkanel's niece standing by herself, Miaka made a beeline towards her. "Hi, you're Lafiel, right?" Frowning in mild disapproval, Miaka shook her finger at her, saying, "I heard you don't eat sweets anymore, and I think that's very bad for you." Taking the older girl's arm in a gentle yet firm grip, Miaka began pulling her towards the exit. "Let's start working on your rehabilitation as soon as possible!"
Lafiel gasped in surprise, but allowed herself to dragged along.
"The inn a couple doors down sells some sweets, if you would like some?"
Carefully making a point of not explaining the part he had in messing up the teleport, Jeremiah drew himself up to his full height - which unfortunately wasn't particularly impressive - and swept the table with a piercing green gaze.
In an overly calm tone of voice, he stated what should have already been clear to some of these buffoons. "Obviously, those of us who use magic are relying upon it. Can we attempt to discuss this like rational men - and women - or are we going to condemn ourselves to failure because some amongst us are incapable of reigning in their tempers?"
He paused a moment.
"Claify this for me. Where and why did magic become forbidden?"
Not needing to hear this particular discussion again, Devon followed O'karn outside and glanced around.
Annoyed, Arael followed the cute guy with the green eyes outside.
"I bet if the water in this place made metal explode he'd blame us for not knowing that. As well. Stupid old man," she muttered darkly, after they had left the dining area.
Arkanel looked to Jeremiah. "Where and when? The best answer is that the ancient winners deemed magic too dangerous and susceptible to corruption by the masses, and removed it from most. I assume at or near the end of the war, and there stronghold was Camelot.
"That is the most I know, as succinctly as I can say it."
Devon and Arael walked out the front door, standing next to O'karn on the front steps. There was a small yard in front that wrapped around the house out back while people walked by in front, taking furtive glances at the people standing out front.
Walking around behind the house, Devon stood on the shore of the lake and gazed out across the tranquil waters.
"It's hard to imagine that places like this really do exist. Even with the threat of war, it seems so... peaceful," he muttered softly to himself, sounding almost, wistful.
A small dock was behind the property, a single boat tied to it.
Devon looked on to the lake, it could have been a small sea for its size. The far shores were invisible to the naked eye. A few boats could be seen in the distance, down the shore; Devon believed they were fishing craft. A small island in the sea could be seen in the distance, an indistinct building atop it. The shore was grassy, no beach could be seen.
Nirae grimaced again, but did as she was told, sipping down a little more of the foul-tasting draft.
"Rackham," She stated, nodding towards the two wolves she had slain. "Those two, if you would, mind skinning them up for me? I'm in a bit of a twist right now and am not in much the shape to hack up wolf carcasses right now."
Besides... she had other things to ponder. Like the wierd feeling she had been getting from the wolves.
A totem maybe? Some kind of magical artifact? Those things always gave her the... willies.
But at any rate, she tossed her hawk lightly to Rackham, being careful not to actually throw it in a way as to harm him, then climbed to her feet and went about retreiving her other weapons.
"Try me 'hawk instead of that rock for cutting up the beasts. It's sharper and should save us time."
OOC:
Edit: Hit the post button before I meant to and forgot to finish typing the first time.
Nirae finished 3/4 of the bottle, letting the healing properties take effect. She felt her jaw finish mending along with her muscles and ligiments. Her skin looked aweful... patches of skin still missing, but she felt fully function, if still a bit sore.
Pulling out a pair of binoculars, Devon took a closer look at the structure on the island.
Devon could see an amphitheater. The seats faced a domed area; a narrow pyramid on top of it. The tip of the pyramid was a ruby color while the rest of the structure appeared marble from the distance.
O'karn and Areal watched as two men made their way up the walkway. Both young men were in their early twenties with sandy blond hair. One, the one who seemed to be in better shape than the other, wore a brown tunic and pants. The other, while skinny, lacked the grace and apparent build of his partner. His attire was a white tunic with brown pants. Both looked apprehensively at the two standing on the steps, but moved passed, towards the door.
OOC: giving O'karn and Areal a chance to react.
O'karn peered at them, turning his head towards the one in better shape, "You, are you the human familiar with the mountains?"
Fearless Leader
Both men stop and look at the large-not-really-human looking man. "I... I've climbed... into the mountains before," the one wearing the brown tunic, stammered out.
Looking up at the sky, Devon sighed and walked back towards the front of the house, stowing his binoculars as he went.
'It looks like the sun will be setting soon. I'd better get some rest before I go scout the castle later tonight.'
"Only just climbed? Not traveled around them?" O'karn's eyes narrowed as he looked closer over the human.
Fearless Leader
Walking around the corner of the house, Devon caught the tail end of O'karn's question.
Stopping near the ogre, he looked curiously at the two men.
The boy looked chastised,"Well... I only really did it 'cause I wanted to climb them.... There wasn't much game or anything like that up there. I traveled a little on some trips, but not all that much... No one really every goes up there.
Looking at the boy who hadn't yet spoken, Devon cocked his head, "You are the one who found the hole in the drainage pipe?"
"Bah. And you? Your the most knowledgable in the village?" O'karn drew back to his full height, eyebrow twitching menacingly.
Fearless Leader
The brown tunic bow started to turn to Devon, but O'karn's rebuke caught his attention. he cringed slightly, and stammered out, "prob... probably.
O'karn shook his head angrily as he turned his eyes skyward, grumbling under his breath. 'Why am I bedeviled so? I pray to you, I bring you sacrifices, I conquer land in your name? Why Syfier am I cursed to be surrounded by such sheep?'
Fearless Leader
Recoiling at the grumblings of the large creature, the boy in the white tunic had opened the door and pulled his companion through the door.
Glancing at O'karn, Devon followed the two into the house.
Arkanel stands as the boys lead Devon into the dinning room again.
"Thank you for coming, Nevin. That will be all, Jared."
The boy in the white tunic bowed, and went into the kitchen. "Nevin, these guest of mine from Smithtown wish to hear about the mountains."
Nevin nodded. "Sure."
"No problem!" Rackham stated quickly before Nirae could change her mind.
Catching the hawk, he went to ensure that the other two wolves were properly bleeding as well, then sat down, take out a whetstone from his belt pouch, and starting cleaning and sharping his scythe as he waited for all the blood to drain.
The blood drains from the wolves.
Rackham put his whetstone back in his pouch, and then cheerfully started to skin the wolves' with Nirae's hawk. While working he absentlymindly asked Nirae, "Did you get your pouch with the jewels? I wonder how many weapons we can buy with such..."
After skinning, he spread out the hides and took out a hammer and several pitons from his backpack, utilizing them to hold the hides down while they dried.
That done, Rackham glanced over to Nirae and saw her gathering her weapons. Frowning he said, "You should rest. That potion may cure wounds but not the fatigue associated with such. Lie down, I will make us dinner."
Still using the hawk, Rackham went around gathering dry grass and any sticks if found. Making a small pile, he lit it with the flint and steel he took from his belt pouch. He then walked over to the pile of meat and bones and cut out the choisest cuts of meat (do wolves have choice cuts of meat?) he could find. Using selections from the said bones, he fashioned a crude spit and used it to spear the meat over the flames.
While waiting for the meat to be cooked, Rackham went around extracting the teeth and claws from each carcass. "Trophies!" he exclaimed gleefully, as he tossed Nirae her share.
"Well, if this Zafniel or watever is growin' in powa so quickly that we can't spare a moment, we'd best be off tomorrow mornin'.
Any threats you can name aside from your nemeis, Orkanel?"
Daggedal leans on a wall, awaiting his answer..
O'karn shook his head, having already decided he had enough with these wretched sheep.
Moving towards the back of the house, he looked around there for a place to prepare to slumber. He cared not to see another pathetic human face this day.
Fearless Leader
O'karn found a large backyard that ended in the lake. A deck was attached to the house - a wooden floor outside. The yard was fairly even, slopping gently towards the lake, and more than adeguate in seize to accomodate a dozen of his brothers.
Arkanel looked at Daggedal. "None."
Turning his attention to the brown-clad villager, Devon pulled out a small device and slipped a small disk into it before pressing a button.
"Are you familiar with the mountains around Camelot?"
"Ah... depends sir... I know the mountains around the falls, but not very far west of that. Definitely not as far as Camelot," The boy answered Devon.
Rackham had a grand ole time making trophies of his impressive kills. The pelt, while they had some damage, could be fasioned into a truely splended coat by a skilled artisan. To his dismay, he only found enough dry twigs and falamable material to light a fire for about 10 seconds in the wild.
Rackham cursed the lack of poper firewood. While he would gladly eat the meat raw, and was in fact intending to, he wasn't sure Nirae would be of the same sentiments.
Rackahm then started making broader circles in search for material, ready to run back in the first sign of trouble.
Rakham's search proved fruitless.
"I see... very well."
Turning towards the door, Devon glanced back at the group, "I'm going to get a look at the castle tonight. I should be back before dawn."
Nirae finished gathering her weapons anyways, then sat herself down.
"Rackham! It's grassland! No sticks!"
Daggedal blinks in surprise.
"Er.. does dis guy 'ave any allies?"
There's hope for you yet! Miaka thought triumphantly. "Yes, that'll be fine. Lead the way?"
Shrugging, and releasing her hand from the grasp of the over-enthuisiastic girl, Lafiel led them out of the house.
Turning right, when they reached the road, they went a few doors down to a nice looking, two-floor house. Lafiel walked up and opened the front foor.
Looking inside, there was a dining area, with people filling up the tables. Spotting an empty one, Lafiel led the girl to it and sat down.
Miaka sat next to Lafiel, smiling at her. "Let's order lots of sweets!" she chirped, her emerald eyes shining with expectation.
Lafiel flagged down a waitress, who came and brought a couple menus.
Lafiel turned to her companion, and said aloud, "Can we get two milkshakes, two orders of sweetbread, and a small plate of sweats." She paused, and asked Miaka, "Anything else?"
Miaka held up the menu and pointed at the third page. "I'll take that." Her finger traveled from top to bottom, and she licked her lips.
The waitress, a woman in her early thirties, but appearing a little younger, nodded. Her eyes widening slightly as she marked down the variety of deserts the young woman had ordered, before moving away form the table.
When clear, Lafiel looked at Miaka intently, her eyes narrowed in curiosity as she asked, "Why did you answer my uncle's request?
"Well, he asked me to save his land," Miaka replied after a moment's silence. "I get asked that a lot, and once you agree to the first request, it's hard to say no to the next one, you know?"
Miaka shrugged. "What would you have done in my place?"
Lafiel nodded as she listened.
"That's very noble of you." She sighed and looked around at the tables filled with people chatting amiably.
"I'm not in your place, so how could I answer that?"
Walking around behind the house, Devon pulled off the white robe and pulled his bedroll out of his backpack. Finding an out of the way area, he settled in to get some sleep before his late-night jaunt.
"That's true," Miaka agreed. "You actually live here, and you've seen what's happening... and so has your uncle." She frowned. "I don't really understand why he's more than happy to let others save his land, without actually coming along and helping. That's not what Hotohori would do...."
"It's not the result that's holding him back -- oh, he really does want Zaphiel dead -- but the action. Can you actually kill someone, another human? My uncle doesn't believe he can, and has has created some weird internal construct where if someone else is doing it, it's not his doing... Killing is wrong, and everyone knows that!" she said softly but vehemently.
Miaka looked off into the distance, as she replied. "The last world I'd been on, I'd met Tamahome. And eventually, I met his family." She paused briefly. "And a few weeks later, I helped bury them. His oldest sibling couldn't have been older than twelve, while the youngest--"
The priestess took a deep breath, before continuing. "There are evil people in the world. The one who did that, only did it out of spite. To hurt Tamahome. And, in turn, he was being used by an even more evil person.
"If I could have stopped that person, before he did any of that...." Miaka shook her head sadly. "People often have high principles which they would like to follow, until they experience the evil in the world personally."
Miaka looked Lafiel in the eyes. "I don't want your people to experience what Tamahome had. You don't have to respect it, but at least, please try to understand?"
Lafiel looked on, eyes saddening as she replied, "But who says you'll be preventing anything? Who says that Zaphiel will hurt anyone.... will you at least try and speak with him before you butcher him," she said veneom in her voice.
The waitress returned, with a helper form the kitchen. She loaded the table down with their order, it barely managing to fit on it. "A wide variety of foodstuff could be seen."
She left, and Lafiel looked at Miaka, "I'm sorry. You're only doing what you feel is right. I have no buisness... anyway, enjoy."
She took a sip of her milkshake.
Miaka sipped her own milkshake, following Lafiel's example. "I thought that Zaphiel had already threatened to kill Arkanel, when your uncle did go to try and talk with him. And aren't there currently dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers at Camelot, all serving Zaphiel?"
The red-head frowned. "Unless what I have just said are simply lies told to us by Arkanel, what could we possibly do? Send weapons inspectors to Camelot?" Her frown got deeper, as she pondered Lafiel's words. "Or is that exactly what you're saying? That there's something we don't know, or that Arkanel hadn't been completely truthful with us?"
Lafiel considered for a moment, "It is not my place to doubt the word of the my uncle." She turned and looked out into the distance, "I can't remember anything that he's said as being a lie... but his premise that Zaphiel is doing what he's doing for conquest. You people have weapons, would you conquer others and subjugate them just because you have them. Is it possible Zaphiel merely wants them, and not us? Does having a sword mean you plan to kill with it?"
"I'm sorry, you came for sweats, not my problems. Enjoy" Lafiel took a bite of one of the sweats. "Mm... I haven't had one in years, they aren't bad."
Stuffing herself with what tasted like chocolate chip cookies, Miaka waved Lafiel's concerns aside. "I don't mind chatting with you. I actually wanted to talk to you, since it seemed like you were a nice person. Well, that and one should never abandon the Way of Sweets."
Sipping some more of the milkshake, Miaka twirled the glass slightly, staring into the creamy liquid. "It's true that weapons are not always used for offense. However, the only other use of weapons is defensive, and defense in turn requires there be an agressor, first. Since your world is fairly peaceful, both from what your uncle has told us and from what I can see with my own eyes, from what could one possibly try to defend themselves with an entire army?"
Miaka shook her head. "No, I doubt Zaphiel has something in mind that doesn't include agression. Threatening to kill his own Chosen Brother is yet more proof of that."
Moving on to strawberry-flavored ice-cream, Miaka mused, "Of course, if Zaphiel hadn't harmed anyone yet, and there's any other way to stop him aside from killing him, I'm all for it. I like to keep my options open, and I was called to save the world, not act as some executioner."
Lafiel nodded, her eyes brightened as Miaka talked. "Thank you," she said softly, before daintily muching on some sweats while she sipped her milkshake.
Miaka nodded, smiling at Lafiel. Then, as she munched on a caramel stick, her eyes widened. "This is good!" she exclaimed, and handed Lafiel a similar sweet. "You just have to try it!"
Taking a dublicate stick from the table, Lafiel bites into it. "Mmm... these are good!" she smiles.
"Lafiel," Miaka asked her companion, nibbling on a saccharine bit of pineapple. "Would you mind telling me what you know of Camelot and Zaphiel? More information about what we'll be facing can never hurt. Besides, anything you could tell me has to help us avoid casualties... on both sides."
Lafiel looked at her friend, eyes growing distant for a moment. "Zaphiel belived Camelot the center of power for those who won the war. He didn't... He didn't believe certain aspects of our lives were handled correctly. He believed Camelot had the answers, along with the tools to change things... the problem with magic among them. I knew him well," she sighed, and took a deep breath before continuing, "he was the cheif administrator of the town, while my uncle was the spiritual leader. I know little of Camelot specifically, only what Zaphiel said before he moved there permantly. About it being a wonderous place."
Miaka looked sad. "I didn't realize Zaphiel and you were that close. I'm sorry."
"It is of no concern," she said lightly. "Arkanel made me renounce my ties when he cast Zaphiel from the community. If he's right about Zaphiel's intents, he wants me as insulated from the thoughts of others as possible."
"That's stupid." Miaka smiled sadly. "You can't order people to think differently from the way they do any more than you can tell them who to love."
"Look, you guys talk out what you want, besides the story, I haven't heard anything helpful," Remdos said, getting somewhat annoyed and bored. "Can you just show me the way to the basement, so I can doze off until everybody feels like moving on?"
He wasn't exceptionally tired, especially with his forced 'nap', but he figured he'd best stick around with the fellows here, and it wouldn't do well to be tired when they were fresh and well rested.
"Arkanel is only doing what he feels is best. The lives of the town is in his hands, he's thinking of its future, along with mine. I do not deny him that, even if I disagree," Lafiel responded.
Arkanel nodded to the archer, and rang his bell. Clara entered and stood obediently nearbye.
"Would you show this man to the beds downstairs. Any others can follow as you see fit."
Clara nodded and went towards one of the previously unopened doors.
"Follow me," she said timidly before slipping through it.
Remdos nodded towards Arkanel before following the girl. As they walk, he'll look around, trying to maintain a general idea of the layout and his surroundings.
Miaka shrugged. "I won't speak about this anymore, then," she said. Biting into a muffin, she spoke again, her voice slightly muffled but still understandable. "Could I ask you what you know about this little problem with magic that everyone has here?"
Lafiel nodded. "It was something set up by those who won the war, or maybe those who lost the war, and those who won liked it. Zaphiel said he found out what and a way around it until he could remove it. But he never spoke more specifically, at least not to me."
"Sounds logical." Miaka shrugged, finally getting to her banana split. "Too bad you don't know more, though. I was hoping that you would be able to help those of us who came with magical abilities, which are now useless. They wouldn't even be able to heal themselves. Oh well... Tamahome will keep me safe, I just know it!"
Lafiel frowned. "Help? I'm sorry... but even if I could, I don't think I could help you kill someone else..." Her head remained bowed as she finished her stick and drank some more of her milkshake.
Arkanel blinked then looked at Daggedal, "Sorry, sir. I don't know of any alliances he has, at least with other cities or groups of people. He has acquired followers, people with similar desires I assume...."
"Could ye quote numbers?"
Daggedal waits expectantly..
"I saw at least fifty... but that was some months ago. From the amount of food they take in, the number should be multiplied by at least 3 or 4. I'm sure the castle could hold as much as a thousand," Arkanel responded to Daggedal.
"A thousand? Ah shit.
'ell, ay'm sure ah'll think up moor questions fer ye later. In de meantime, can ye direct me to this blacksmith? I need me a coat of mail.."
Arkanel rang the bell, and Clara entered quickly.
"Get the boy, so he can lead our friend to a blacksmith," he ordered.
A few moments later, the boy, wearing a white shirt came into the room.
"Ah, good, good. Please escort our guest to Master Gilbert's."
The boy nodded, and walked out of the room.
Daggedal follows the kid, taking a good look at his surroundings as he does so..
On a whim, Miaka decided to feel for the magic in Lafiel.
Miaka felt the overpowering presence of magic before her stomach cramped and her concentration slipped.
Lafiel looked at her, "Is everything okay?"
O'karn pulled out his sleeping equipment and set up for the night.
Fearless Leader
There, you can timeskip with me to dawn whenever ^_^
Rackham returned, grumbling several orcish obsenities, and plopped down next to Nirae with a chunk of meat in his hand. "There goes your meal, unless you want to eat the meat raw as well."
He then tore into the meat with obvious pleasure, after handing Nirae back her hawk.
After finishing his 'food,' Rackham glanced over at the hides, noticing that they were dry. He then proceeded to go over to them, and started scraping them of any flesh left with the stone he found earlier.
While scraping, he remembered that Nirae hadn't answered his previous question. Rackham asked irritably, "Did you pick up your gems?"
Jeremiah hummed a moment as Daggedal left.
"These followers he acquired - how has he been acquiring them, exactly? Has he been recruiting people, or have they heard about him and gone to join of their own accord?"
"I ate too fast. "Her face contorting in pain, Miaka continued, "That has to be it. I couldn't have overeaten. There's no such thing as having too much food."
Her features relaxed somewhat as the cramps lessened. "Well, either that, or this problem with magic is affecting me."
Panicking, she grabbed her head. "I'll starve to death if I can't sense food. NOOO!!!"
Arkanel frowned. "Some of the people have been from town, how exactly he convinced them to follow him is beyond my current knowledge. Although, there are definitely more people there than have left this village, and there haven't been reports of strangers traveling through the valley."
Lafiel eyes widdened at Miaka's display. "I'm sure Clara will pack you a nice lunch if you ask her," she mentioned to the other woman in a soft, patient voice.
Miaka brightened up considerably. "Good idea!" she chirped, a slight bit of drool escaping the side of her mouth before she quickly wiped it away.
"Can I ask you something?" she said suddenly, changing the topic. "Could you tell me more about that teleporter rod and how it works?"
Lafiel looked at the other girl. "The rod is attuned to the base. It take the person holding it, and any linked to it to wherever that base is. How it was constructed, I don't know. It's supposed to be able to transport four people linked. If that's a mass limitation or something else, I'm not sure. Magic, although I know a little about how to make it work, I understand very little about how it works."
She looked at the table, "Clara said you ate an entire pig before, and now this... I can't believe someone of your size... sorry, that was rude."
"I'm a growing girl," Miaka said, slightly defensive.
She tapped her forehead in thought. "The teleporting rod sounds like a nice toy. I wonder... do you have any other magical items? Maybe ones on the peaceful side?"
"I don't," she replied quickly. "My Uncle has one or two others, but I'm not sure what they do?"
"Oh. A bottomless pouch of ice-cream was too much to hope for, anyway," Miaka said dejectedly. Cocking her head, she asked, "How about Zaphiel? Any idea whether he has any of them?"
Lafiel giggled. "I don't know what he would do with such a thing. I have no idea what Zaphiel has found, although I would be surprised if he hadn't found anything of value."
Jared led Daggedal out of the house and onto the main street. Heading east on the road, Daggedal could see people lighting street lamps in the early dusk. The road, while occupied by others, was hardly full.
The houses were quaint looking, and shouted out 'peaceful' as they walked along the road.
The people seemed happy, although Daggedal received several glances, some inquisitive, some frightened. They walked slowly, and serenely. Their dress was nice, clean clothing that free of wrinkles or blemishes marked their attire. He noted various skin tones and heights. A few children ran along the streets, parents smiling gently at their play. The people on the streets all looked healthy, obesity wasn't a problem, nor was age, as no appeared to be over forty.
They eventually came to an area that seemed to be a market. Jared walked up to one of the vendors, the only one to have anything resembling weapons.
"Ahh, Jared. What does Arkanel wish of me?" He was facing the boy, but Daggedal could see the furtive glances his way.
"Master Arkanel asked me to show this gentleman to your shop." He indicated Daggedal when he spoke.
The stocky man turned to face Daggedal. His sandy blonde hair had natural highlights, almost blending in with his pale complexion. He stood six inches over five feet, and his erect carriage spoke of muscles. "What may I do for you?"
Miaka nodded. "Fun, fun."
Chewing on a piece of strawberry-flavored bubblegum, she got a pondering expression on her face. "Is there more than one teleporter rod? And if there are, what happens if there are two bases made to be identically attuned to one rod, and not a Chosen activates it?"
"I'm sure there is more than one... well, I shouldn't say sure, but my uncle mentioned others from different cities had them. I don't think a rod can be attuned to more than one base... " Lafiel responde to Miaka.
"That's reassuring." Miaka smiled at Lafiel. "Thanks, I feel much more ready now. Maybe, if we manage to get the drop on Zaphiel, and take away his toys, we'll win without any bloodshed. Won't that be nice?"
Lafiel smiled. "I hope you can. It would... I would..." she stopped speaking as Miaka could see the corners of her eyes glistening.
Miaka leaned over to the older girl, and offered her a handkerchief. "Take heart!" she said brightly. "Things will work out, Suzaku-willing."
Jeremiah nodded. "Did you know these people? Were they the sorts who would have been induced by something he could have offered them?"
Arkanel looks at Jeremiah. "I know all the people in my city." He looked away for a second before continuing, "They were actually very adventurous people... if that makes any sense. They always questioned what they wanted out of life and the community."
"Aye 'eard you were a decent smith. Was wonderin', can ye craft me a coat of mail? Would be much appreciateed, though I'll understand if ye canna do it fer me."
Daggedal spoke calmly, looking around the smiths shop as he did so..
"A coat of mail... Could you describe it a bit better?" the man asked incredulously.
Daggedal's survey uncovered a shop that made mostly blades: spear tips, daggers, and knives were on display, along with a few pots, pans, and horseshoes.
Lafiel took the handerchief. Turning her head, she dabbed her eyes. "Thanks. You're so kind. Do you really need to go with those other killers?"
"Armour. Yer know, like a shirt, only made of metal plates. Surely ye've at least 'eard of it? Ah see you ain't much for war 'ere, but don't ye ave any stories or anything?"
It seemed inconceivable to Daggedal..
Arael stood outside the mage's home thinking deeply. There seemed little to no change of her being able to use either of her abilities in the upcoming conflict, and the fool continued to try to put the blame on those he himself chose for this mission. Idiot. How could someone so incompetent end up leading anything other than an ass? It boggled the mind.
Sighing, she stepped away from the door at last, intent on exploring the town a little. She put on a grin. After all, there was no point in wasting a good opportunity like this to see another world, was there? With these thoughts in mind and a smile on her face she set off toward the city, eyes taking in her surroundings.
Arael walked down the walkway to the main street. The town stretched to the west, and then back to the East, the direction they had arrived in.
Clara led Remdos out of the room, into a small area that had stairs leading up and another set leading down. She moved too a small door, and opened it, removing a small lamp. Lighting the wick, it gave of a soft glow.
Satisfied with her work, she led Remdos down the stairs.
Traveling down the stairs, Remodos found himself in a large spartan room. The stirs were located in the middle of it, with fourteen beds, seven each along opposite walls. There was a doorway on one of the other walls, and the last wall was bare.
The beds were each full-sized, two pillows, and white blankets. A small chest stood at the foot of each, and a small nightstand.
Clara turned to him and handed him the small lamp. "You can take any bed you wish. Is there anything else you need?"
"I've heard of armour," the man scoffed at Daggedal. "I have a picture book that had drawings of it! Been meaning to try and make some... but I want to know what do you wish it to be? I can call the seamstress and make plates that will fit into a leather jerkin. I can make a breast plate, or some leg covererings, depending on how you want it fitted. I also need to know what you wish me to try and make it out of. Iron, copper, gold, wood -- I'd need the carver for wood --, I've got a little steel on hand. I need to know how much to charge, ya, and then your sizes, and I'm sure I forgot something else. And the request is just a bit strange, don't ya think?"
He peered intently at Daggedal, before adding, "I'm also late for dinner, so either be quick or comeback in the morning."
Miaka frowned. Looking around to make sure no one was in hearing range, she leaned over towards Lafiel again and said quietly, "Actually, it might be better to see Zaphiel in person before judging him. Is there any way for me to do that? Preferably, a way that doesn't get me toasted?"
Nirae looked puzzledly up from digging a trail ration out of her pack.
"Jewels? What ARE you talking about, Rackham?"
ooC:
Sorry about that. Was away from the 'net connects for a while.
Lafiel looked at the girl, consideration evident on her face.
"My uncle went to see him... but he made me promise not to go near Camelot...."
Miaka shrugged. "I won't force you to do something you don't want to do. But if you think you'll be safe from Zaphiel and can arrange for a sort of temporary truce at the very least...."
"I know several people like that," Jeremiah flashed Arkanel a quick grin, "but would they have gone of their own accord, or would he have had to offer them something?"
Lafiel's eye dart about and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Finally she stands up and calls to the waitress who comes over immediately.
"My uncle will get the tab."
She motions for Miaka to follow as she walks to the door and heads outside.
"You might be surprised. . . alright. Does Zaphiel know of us, and how much do the townspeople know?"
Miaka nodded, and stuffed a bunch of candy into her pocket. Grabbing two lollipops, she followed Lafiel. Upon catching her, she offered her one of them with a smile.
Arael chose the western path. She kept an eye out for any places of moderate interest and on the locals. She was especially curious about the feelings of the general population.
The sun had set, and the road was lit with lamposts that offered sufficient illumination to see with.
Lafiel took the offered lollipop and returned a concerned frown.
She leaned in close and spoke in a whisper. "I'll take you, and you only, to see Zaphiel if you wish. If so, meet me in three hours time at the western edge of the town. There's a bridge that crosses the river, meet me just past it. If your're not alone, or not there, you'll never see me."
Arael walked down the path. She noted a few people about, including some that were lighting street lamps to fight against the setting sun.
The populace was cheerful, and pretty carefree. She noted mostly houses along the way, a diner and general store were clearly marked.
She could hear a river running before she saw it in the distance. A bridge ran over it.
The last house before the river was a rather large townhome situated just off the road. An elegantly dressed woman sat upon a porch in front.
Miaka nodded. "I'll be there. I don't want to leave my stuff where someone may find and abuse them, but I won't use them to attack anyone."
Miaka took note of the time and of the road leading to the place specified to Lafiel from Arkanel's house, just to be on the safe side.
Lafiel offered Miaka a small smile.
"I'm glad. I need to go take care of some things." She waved and ran ahead of the girl, entering Arkanel's house in the distance.
"It's so peaceful here. Kind of hard to believe anyone would want to bring war to these people," she thought. Her eyes appraised the rather placid surrounding until she finally reached the outskirts of the town. The peace was soothing balm, draining her anger away and reminding her of the reason she was in this world in the first place.
When her eyes caught sight of the woman on the porch, that selfsame curiosity moved her feet almost on their own accord. Before she realized it she was already approaching the town house, a smile on her face and greeting on her lips. She took the time to study the woman as she approached. Her clothes most likely meant that she was important woman in this place. Perhaps she knew something worthwhile.
The short path up to the porch gave Arael time to appraise the woman. She wore a simple red gown of silk and a ruby bracelet. The single adornment on her hands was a ring, with gold and diamonds intertwined. Her silver necklace ended in a ruby, and her shoes, slippers really, appeared well crafted.
"Hello, my dear," she said airily as Areal approached. "What can I do for you?"
Miaka returned to Arkanel's house, and walked into the room she had last seen Arkanel in.
"Please excuse me for troubling you," Arael began, "but could you tell me where this path leads? I'm afraid I'm new in this area and... well..."
Lafiel walked into the dinning room, interrupting Arkanel and Jeremiah.
"I'm going to stay at the hunter's lodge," she said hautily.
Arkanel looked startled, and sighed. "Fine..."
Sne nodded and walked into the kitchen.
Miaka walked in time to see Lafiel leave the room. Leaving Jeremiah and Arkanel standing there.
The woman looked at Arael placatingly. "The path out of town? It leads through the wooded area and onto Camelot."
"Arkanel, would it be possible for Clara to show me to the changing room?" Miaka asked.
"Camelot," Arael replied in a much subdued voice. "Have you ever seen it? I mean, living so close to it and all, of course you must have seen it before." Arael's features suddenly took on an air of embarrassment.
"Not that I assume you did or anything. I mean, if you didn't want to see it that's fine too. Not to say that you didn't either!" She waved her hands spastically in front of her, emphasizing her embarrassment. She suddenly turned to face the river, shoulders slumping visibly.
"Um... I'm just curious to know what it's like there." Her voice took on a wistful tone as she stared in the direction of the bridge and, she assumed, Camelot.
Clara led Miaka out of the room, into a small area that had stairs leading up and another set leading down. She moved too a small door, and opened it, removing a small lamp. Lighting the wick, it gave of a soft glow.
Satisfied with her work, she led Miaka down the stairs.
Traveling down the stairs, Miaka found herself in a large spartan room. The stairs were located in the middle of it, with fourteen beds, seven each along opposite walls. There was a doorway on one of the other walls, and the last wall was bare.
The beds were each full-sized, two pillows, and white blankets. A small chest stood at the foot of each, and a small nightstand. And Remdos stood a short distance away.
Clara walked to the doorway, opened it, and walked in. Inside was a small room, containing two large dressors, a mirror atop each. Another door stood on the other side of it.
"There's a lavatory on the other side of the door. If you need anything else let me know?" She handed the lamp to Miaka and left.
The woman looked at her quizically then laughed, "Heh. Why would you want to see Camelot? It's a relic of a long dead society. I've seen the wall that marks it, but I haven't been."
Entering the small room Clara had shown her and closing the door behind her, Miaka quickly got out of the white robe. Her priestess outfit shortly followed suit, and Miaka dressed herself in her beige school uniform.
Fixing the bow in her shirt, Miaka packed away her other outfit, making sure to put it where her school outfit had been, instead of just dumping it on top of everything. Reaching into the side pockets of her backpack, she took out one ward from each, and put them together in the front pocket on her jacket.
Done, Miaka put the white robe back over her clothing, and grabbed her backpack, walking out of the room. Giving the guy in the larger room a short wave, Miaka returned to the dining room.
Miaka entered the dining room to the sight of Jeremiah and Arkanel still regarding each other.
Keeping that wistful gaze to the horizon Arael smiled ever so slightly.
"My mother is why. According to my father she made the pilgrimage there in her youth. It was before my time, when she first met father. I never really got to know her while she was... Anyway, I thought maybe I would take this journey as well. It seemed to bring her good luck." Arael's smile grew considerably.
"Good luck and a good man. I could sure use some of that. Mr. Arkanel doesn't seem to happy about my interest in going, however."
"Heh. Arkanel is Arkanel. He thinks the place has been defiled since Zaphiel started poking around there and therefore should be avoided. Where are you from, anyway? And if you're looking for a good man, you can come in here, we could always use an extra hand." She looked speculatively at Arael.
In there?" Arael asked curiously. "What's in there? And how would that help me find a good man? Do you mean you have sons?"
Miaka looked for the teleporting rod and its base.
The woman giggled at Areal. "This a comfort establishment. Many men come through here."
Miaka saw it where Arkanel had placed it before, on the table close to where he had been eating.
Arael blinked. "An Inn? This doesn't look much like an Inn." She quickly added "No offense meant."
The woman laughed at Arael.
"An inn? Well, people sometimes sleep, though it's frowned upon. No, we offer travelors and townfolks a place to meet, unwind, and enjoy the company of women."
"Oh, well that certainly sounds nice. Though I don't see how that would help me find a good man." Arael blinked as though only just realizing something. She turned fully toward the elegant woman and bowed repeatedly.
"Ack, I haven't even introduced myself! Please forgive my rudness. I am Arael Sabré."
"Hitomi." The woman nodded to Arael in return. "Well, most men have sought are services at least once. And Arael is a nice name. Where are you from?"
Walking over to it, Miaka put her hand on the teleporting rod. "Mind if I go and pl-- try to see how it works?" she asked Arkanel. "Oh, and do you have any other to-- things like it?"
Arkanel looked at the girl, a fond smile crossing his features.
"It is for your use. As your groups sees fit. Alas, this is the only item of magical ability I have. I find magic... distasteful."
"Hi-to-mi," Arael spoke slowly. "That's a nice name."
"I'm from Zeal. It's not so much a town, per se, as a couple of houses. It's that way, a ways." Arael gestures vaguely in the direction from which the group had entered town.
"I think it's that way, anyway. I mean, that's where Mr. Arkanel found me." She looked back down the path of the town, back toward the bridge, and back down the path again. "I'm almost one hundred percent sure I'm right this time!" She grinned wildly, as though she had conquered a particularly difficult problem.
"Wow!" She took on a look of awe as Hitomi's earlier words almost visibly sank in. "Almost every man comes here? You must be an amazing business woman."
"Yay! Thankies!" Miaka stopped herself short of jumping, and grabbed the rod and the base for it, putting them in her backpack and skipping outside to find a good place to practice with them.
Hitomi's eyes glazed over as Areal spoke. When Areal finished, Hitomi replied, "I just offer people services they want, and have an eye for finding people who are good at providing those services."
She looked at Arael appraisingly. "I even might be ablte to make a good comfort woman out of you. But nevermind, you said you weren't interested. Is there anything else I can do for you? I have to set up for this evening, so I can't stand out here talking all evening."
Rackham stopped scraping and glanced in disbelief toward Nirae. "You didn't get your jewels?!"
Arael looked down, uncertainty etched across her features. She idly kicked at the ground for a moment before visibly composing herself.
"I... You mentioned somebody earlier when I said Mr. Arkanel didn't want me to finish my journey. I think I heard him say that name too, but I don't think I was supposed to hear it. He seemed really mad when he said it. What kind of person is this Zaphiel? Is he... is he dangerous?" Arael's eyes began to water slightly.
"I... I really want to finish this. It's so close. B... but..."
Hitomi looked on concerned. "You poor girl." She moved to her and placed an arm around her. "Why don't you come in and rest? I can get you a nice cup of brandy, and you can tell me all about it."
Arael smiled her thanks as she let herself be guided inside. Wiping her eyes she muttered, "I'm so sorry to be a burden like this."
Stepping outside, Miaka saw people travening the road in front of the house.
Smacking her forehead for her stupidity, Miaka reentered the house, found her way to the room Clara had shown her earlier and entered the smaller room where she had changed clothes. She took a pen and a piece of paper from her backpack, writing 'Don't touch this, or Tamahome will kick your butt!' in her messy but legible scrawl, and then put her note on the ground, ancoring its corner with the base for the teleporting rod.
Satisfied that the writing was visible, and that the base was holding the paper in place, Miaka put the pen back into her backpack, and skipped outside again. Once in the front yard, she decided to investigate the outskirts of the city to the west, knowing that they were too far if she took the direction she came from with Arkanel.
"No burden dear. Us women have to look out for each other."
Hitomi opened the door and led Arael inside. She was greeted by an opulent rectangular room. A deep red carpet covered the entire floor, and a stair way led up from the middle of the room. The stairway ended in an open hallway, where people standing there could see the door and the foyer area. A woman walked past out of view.
To the right was a large set of double doors, currently open and Hitomi led the woman through them. The room was equal in size, and had several deep couches and a few cushions on the ground. She moved the girl to one of the couches, a short coffee table sat in front of it and indicated for Arael to sit.
Two other women sat chatting amiably in the room, one brunette, one blonde. They were attractive and appeared to be in their early twenties. Neither was dressed as nicely as Hitomi, but they wore nice dresses that accentuated their figures.
"Sarah, Darling will you get a bottle of brandy and a couple of glasses for me and my guest."
The blonde stood and nodded, before moving out the room.
"You have nothing to worry about. I'm sure I can find someone to escort you to Camelot. It's not all that far," she soothed to the other girl.
Miaka walked down the path. She noted a few people about, walking in the lamplight.
She noted mostly houses along the way, a diner and general store were clearly marked.
She could hear a river running before she saw it in the distance. A bridge ran over it.
The last house before the river was a rather large townhome situated just off the road.
"I'm not very good with alcohol," Arael protested weakly. "And Mr. Arkanel has some guests that seem to be heading that way already. I was thinking of going with them." She wiped her eyes, trying to shake off her earlier melancholy.
"And Mr. Devon is go-erk!" She blushed and turned from the older woman, twiddling her fingers. "Um, that is to say, I think I want to go with them."
Hitomi laughed lightly. "If you wish to travel with others that's fine. But why were you so distraught about it?"
Miaka walked over to the bridge, looked around to see there was no one to see her, and then crouched and activated the teleporter rod like she'd seen Arkanel demonstrate.
The world tunred white for a second, and she reappeared in the changing room.
Miaka looked at the door to the room, opening it, to see whether it had a lock to it, and if so whether it had a key in it, and whether it could be locked and opened from both outside and inside.
Miaka noted that there was a simple sliding bolt on the door. Currently in an open position.
Miaka went into the sleeping area, and closed the door to the changing room behind her, though leaving the bolt open. She again took out her pen, and another piece of paper, writing upon it, "Miaka's Super Private Dressing Room." She chewed on the edge of her pen a bit, before adding below in smaller writing, "Stay out, perverts, or face my supremely dominating female wrestling moves!"
Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Miaka taped the note to the door with duct tape, and walked outside again, whistling merrily.
Miaka found it quite dark out now. And closing in on the time of her meeting. She figured she have to kill 15 or 30 minutes if she left now for the bridge again.
Miaka went inside to look for Clara, wanting something to munch on in her spare time.
"My mother was a good woman," Arael began, her eyes unfocused as they stared into the past and viewed old memories. "She was everything a woman everything to Father and I. I really don't know how to describe her. How do you describe perfection without flawing it?" She took on a wistful tone.
"Like I said, she was everything to us, even though I can't remember her that well. I remember enough, though. And then she grew ill one summer a long time ago. I don't really remember the funeral that well either. One day she was there and the next gone.
"Father always said that I was the reason he kept going after that. I do know that he took great care of me after that. He never forgot a birthday and would always compliment my cooking, that sort of thing. It was... nice." The wistfulness turned bitter.
"And then she came along. That... That... Woman! Sure she was nice on the outside, but behind closed doors she was a fiend. That gold digging hussy!" Arael suddenly snapped back to the present, seemingly shocked at her own language.
"Excuse me! I don't know where that came from."
Miaka traveled into the dining room, being the only place she knew where to find Clara at.
Hitomi looked upon the small girl sadly. "That's sounds horrible... so horrible to loose a loved one. These firends of yours, they are traveling to Camelot as well?"
"Feh. A breastplate will serve. Ah'm 6 feet tall and 1'6 wide. And ah'll need a helm. And a shoulder guards. The works. 'ere, I'll write down me sizes for you. I suppose you can read?"
In Daggedal's experiance, the average smith couldn't..
"Can I talk to Clara about a snack?" Miaka asked Arkanel with a smile. "If you'd just point me in the right direction, I'll be out of your hair."
Her smile dropped slightly, though she doubted anyone would notice. For the injustice of it all! This was the first time she had to ask for directions to the kitchen... this world was definitely evil and in need of saving, if her powers were interfered with.
The man looked disdainfully at Daggedal. "I can read just fine. I don't have enough steel for all that, but I can get some within the week. Unless you want it made of iron?"
Arkanel nodded to Miaka. "Clara wouldn't mind serving you here, or even downstairs. But you can go through that door to the kitchen," he pointed to the door in the far corner, "she should be there."
"Thanks!" Miaka enthused, and followed the direction Arkanel had specified.
She walked through the door and found a large rectangular room. The closer half was a kitchen, immaculately clean as Clara worked on the last of the dishes. The farther half of the room consisted of a table and many cabinets.
Clara turned to Miaka when she entered. "Can I help you?"
Miaka turned large, round eyes on Clara. "Could I have a snack? Pweaase? Pwetty pwease?"
Clara smiled softly. "What would you like? I have some left-over dinner."
"That would be so nice!" Miaka replied. "Could I gave a basket with the left overs?"
Clara nodded, and moved to one of the cabinets, taking out a small basket, she then moved around the room, quickly putting together a full bag of cooked pig, some fruits, and some vegtables. Finishing, she walked over and handed the basket to Miaka.
"Enjoy."
"Yay!" Miaka exclaimed in joy. "Thanks, I love you, bye bye!"
Miaka ran outside, basket in one hand and the teleporting rod and the lamp Clara had given her earlier in the other. When she got out into the front yard, she thought for a moment, and put the foot-long teleporter rod inside the basket, covering it with several bananas and putting her handkerchief atop everything.
Satisfied with the results, Miaka went towards the meeting place Lafiel had scheduled for her, lamp and basket in her hands.
Miaka walked to the bridge, and then over it, moving away from it she stood and waited. A few minutes later, a hand landed on her shoulder.
Spinning, she turned to see Lafiel's smiling face.
"I'm glad you came," she said softly.
Miaka nodded. "Of course I came! And I brought food, too!"
Lafiel smiled softy and went to hug Miaka. A sharp pain coursed through Miaka's side, and her vision started to go fuzzy.
"I'm sorry," Lafiel said softly.
Miaka stared at the older girl, the red-head's eyes widened in shock. "Lafiel," she mumbled, the single word coming out as an accusation. Miaka stumbled in Lafiel's grasp, losing her hold on the lamp Clara had given her as her left arm went slack, the right one shortly following suit.
The sound of footsteps was the last sounds Miaka heard before unconsciousness took her.
"I don't really know them well, but yes, they seem to be going that way."
"That's convienient," Hitomi said. "Arael, why are they going?"
Remdos was about to ask for possibly something to snack on, when Clara left. Scratching his head, he decided to just turn in for the night and eat something in the morning, not wanting to go back upstairs just to get some food. Plopping onto the nearest bed, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
"They seemed to have some business with Mr. Arkanel," Arael admitted. "I'm not really sure why, though. I think there was something about a quest one mentioned? After dinner we all just sort of split up."
Hitomi looked at Areal sternly. "So you didn't find out anything about them. Isn't it risky to travel with such people then? You never know what they might do to a defensless girl like yourself?"
"I... but Miaka was traveling as well, and..." Arael let her voice trail away momentarily.
"But would Mr. Arkanel deal with those kind of people?"
"Oh, so you aren't the only girl in the party. That makes me feel a little better. Is Arkanel traveling with you?"
Hitomi looked at the Arael curiously, "And it doesn't sound Like Arkanel to go pick up people either... I wonder why he did that?"
"Hm," Arael humed. She held her chin in her hand while a look of concentration replaced the worry that had adorned her face moments before.
"Someone else asked that while I was there as well. Mr. Arkanel seemed reluctant to go himself. Something about healing, I think he said."
"So there's you and Miaka, how many others are in this pilgrimage to Camelot?" Hitomi asked sweetly.
"Mr. Devon and Mr. Guy whose name I don't remember and somebody else makes three others. So five I guess, even if Mr. Arkanel doesn't think I should go." Her look turned petulant.
"I mean, why shouldn't AI go? What's so bad about this Zephiel guy that I need to stay away from where he pokes? You don't seem bothered by it."
Hitomi smiled. "Zaphiel is a great man," she said a bit wistfully. It's smart for most people to stay out of brotherly squabbles."
The woman who left earlier, returned, carrying a silver tray, with a crystal decantor, containing a brown liquid. She approached while Hitomi spoke and placed the tray on the small table in front of them.
When she started pouring, Hitomi spoke to her. "Our friend isn't fond of spirits?"
The woman nodded, and only poured one glass, before retreating.
Hitomi returned her attention to Areal. "If Arkanel picked you up, why wouldn't he want you to go? I mean he does intent to meddle with Zaphiel, so it's strange to bring you here, and then tell you not to go."
Arael blinked a bit at that and began twiddling her fingers again.
"I was a little lost when Mr. Arkanel found me, but I'm sure I would have gotten here eventually. Almost certainly within the week, I'm positive." Her voice betrayed a slight uncertainty, however.
"Mr. Arkanel was nice enough to get me back on the path and offer me a place to stay the night. He seems nice enough."
Hitomi blinked.
"His hearts always in the right place, but I think his mind is slipping a bit. But anyway, if you just met uo with these others... 5 you said, why are they making the journey. I mean a mere pilgrimage wouldn't call Arkanel out to pick them up?"
"The others were already with him when he found me," Arael replied. "Miaka said she was going for her religion and I didn't really get to know the others that well. We weren't together that long, you know? I don't really know why they were all out there, or Mr. Arkanel for that mater. This is the first time I've ever done something like this."
"Well, that's a shame. I was--" Hitomi stopped speaking and looked past Arael on the couch, her eyes widened.
Something bit into Arael's neck and Hitomi stood and moved away. "Lafiel!" she cried.
Arael jumped from the couch at the grabbing for her neck with one hand and he mace with another while turning to face her attacker. Her fingers closed around the dart and quickly pulled it out, applying pressure to the wound.
Arael's hand pulled out a long slender dart, as she landed heavily on the table, knocking over the decantor and glasses.
Arael was already feeling lightheaded as she saw Lafiel standing in the doorway, a small wooden tube was held in her left hand, placed at her lips. While a similar tube fell to the ground at her side.
Someone grasped her arm while Lafiel shot another dart at the Arael's chest.
Arael threw her weight to the left, sliding off the table in a desperate attempt to dodge the incoming projectile. Acting on instinct she tried to detoxify herself, knowing both the effects using magic had here and knowing that there was little choice but to fight through it. She had partially succeeded with her charm ability earlier and was hoping that something instantaneous would work fast enough to take effect.
The dart caught Arael in the arm, as she fell off the table. She felt her stomach cramp as she tried to detoxify herself.
Her breath left her as Hitomi fell heavily ontop of her. She sat stunned as her mind became vacant and Hitomi stood.
"Damn liar," Lafiel said, disdainfully. The last words Arael heard before blackness took her.
"Ahh, Iron'll do, if ye canna get steel soon. Ah'm sure I'll manage. So, Ah'll pick it up tomorrow?"
Daggedal nods to himself..
"Tommorrow will be fine. That'll be 100 gelders upon delivery."
"Ah see."
Daggedal makes a mental note to either steal some cash or trade in his rubies.
The boy, who led Daggedal to the smith, squeaked, "Can we go back now? I need some sleep."
"O' COURSE I dinna get any jewels since, as you'll note, I'm unaware of what you're talking about, Rackham!" Nirae scowled, all at once missing the 'simple' life aboard the Dragon's Wing.
"Ah... to be lashing the Cabin Brat again..." she sighed wistfully...
;p
Rackham stared at Nirae some more. "The gems were part of our payment and you missed them?!"
He started scraping the hides faster. "As soon as I am done, we are going back and getting them. There isn't any telling how much they are worth, but they are sure to feed the crew for a couple of months, maybe more."
"Oh, and as soon as you rested as well."
Nirae paused and stared at Rackham.
"Gems? How do we know they won't just spill to simple glass baubles back home?" she sighed. "Never mind, if you wish them, we'll go back for them."
Nirae then stretched, testing her body, trying to gauge just how much longer she'd have to wait before they could go on.
"Aye, lad. 'ell, I'll see that you're paid tomorrow."
Daggedal thinks for a moment.
"'ye got any, er, interesting trinket-markets around 'ere, lad? Turn up all kinds of stuff.."
Jeremiah started, realizing just how long he'd been thinking.
"I'll probably have more questions for you tomorrow, but for now it's time to turn in. Can you tell me where I can find a bed in this place?"
Arkanel rang the bell.
A few moments later, Clara came in.
Beconing the young man, he followed her to anohter room, where she took out and lit a lamp, before leading him down a flight of stairs.
One bed was occupied by the man Jeremaih had arrived with, the other 13 were empty.
She handed him the lamp, and returned upstairs.
A smile crossses the smith's face as he looks at Daggedal. "interesting! We have a place that sells various soil samples. It's the greatest rage. They have them in little glass vials that reflect light differently when held in the sky. Great party decorations!"
He frowned then. "Unfortunately all the stores should be closed by now, I was just finishing up some stuff. But they'll be open tomorrow, bright and early, 10 am as always."
Dropping his coat and pack onto the floor, Jeremiah kicked them under the bed. Stifling a yawn as he pulled his boots off, he let himself fall heavily into the bed.
*thud*
"'ye have clocks?" Daggedal says, questioningly.
"'ell, no matter. I was 'oping for something with a bit more.. erm.. practical use."
"A couple of the other merchants have them for sale." The smith replied to Daggedal.
"Ah, well. Guday to ye."
Daggedal prods the boy.
"Roight. Back to Orkanel's."
Rackham paused in his labor and examined the hides, trying to gauge if more scraping was in order. Reaching into his belt pouch he pulled out the smaller gem pouch and tossed it over to Nirae. "Here, you tell me if they look real or not."
He looked up at the sun, frowning, trying to determine the time.
Rakham noticed it was still early afternnon on the day of their arrival.
The boy jumped from the Daggedal's notice of him. "Yes! This way," he called and started walking back through the town.
The streets were lit with lanterns and the population sparce. A few people were walking about, minding there own buisness.
The returned in due time, and Daggedal was led to the dining room, where Arkanel was sitting, reading a book.
"ell, Orkanel, we 'ave a few preperations to make, but we can do them in the morrow, what with all the shops being shut."
Daggedal nods to himself.
"Ye are a man of some means, correct? I 'ope so, because we may need some considerable coinage to see our way.
Aye'll take charge of the supplies, and spend no more then aye need to, on my word."
Arkanel considers for a moment. "I'll write up the necessary documents. and have them ready for you in the morning."
"I believe a couple of your comrades are sleeping out back, while a couple are sleeping in the basement. The boy will show you to either."
"No dinner? Ach, ye'd better 'ave a thumpin' good breakfast or sumthin...'"
Daggedal sounds a little peeved, but he goes with the boy to the basement to sleep..
Devon woke around midnight, the moon hung low in the western sky; a half-crescent illuminatng the yard and reflecting off the lake. A normal human would easily make out the shapes and even some of the descriptions of his sort-of companions. There were no sound, but he could see lamp-light coming from in front of the house.
edit: spelling
Rising soundlessly, Devon swiftly packed his bedroll.
Pulling on his cloak and raising the hood, he headed off into the night in a loping run. Following the lake to the west.
Devon ran, houses passed him on his right as the lake silently slipped by on his left. Eventually he came to a river that emptied into the lake. The water was easily 300 meters wide. The other side was grassy, with trees randomly grown. They weren't close enough to be labeled a forest. No buildings were built on the other side of the river.
A bridge could be seen 100 yards upstream, a road traveled over it.
Crossing over the bridge, Devon looked around for a moment to see if there were any people out and about at this time of night.
Devon couldn't see a soul.
Pulling his shoufa across the lower part of his face, a quiet transformation came over Devon, his skin quickly darkened to a midnight black, and the green of his eyes slowly faded, to be replaced with a brilliant crimson.
Taking a deep breath as something seemed to uncoil within him, Devon smiled as the dark night seemed to welcome him into it's embrace.
'I really should do this more often.'
Following the river upstream, a shadowy form moved easily across the grasslands as crimson eyes pierced the darkness, searching for the drain pipe Arkanel had mentioned.
After a short trip, Devon spotted it, slightly under the surface of the crystal clear water. A pipe, about 5 feet in diameter' sent forth a small trickle of water into the river. Devon noticed, quite peculiarly, that the water of the river seemed to flow around it.
Pulling out a compass, Devon made note of the direction that the pipe traveled in. Setting off once more in a loping run, he traveled swiftly to the west.
The pipe traveled perpendicular from the river, due west.
Devon traveled over the landscape, seeing the occasional animal, deer, rabbit, etc. No people were seen.
Devon continued on, until he reached a clearing. Traveling due west, the mountains had closed in on him.
The clearing was 300 yards, ending in a 30 foot wall that stretched from the mountain, to the other side of the valley. The single wall was broken in the center by a gate, currently closed. Atop the walls, stood sentry post, equidistant but within bow range of each other. Torches were lit atop the small buldings, and the outline of people walking could be seen.
Pulling out his binoculars, Devon took a closer look at the sentry posts.
The sentry post appeared to be made of the same material as the walls. An archway could be seen as the entrance point fron their sides, while a solid wall protected the inhabitants from view.
Viewing a couple of the posts long enough showed Devon that their were two sentries at each, a bow slung over their shoulders. They occasionally glanced in the direction of the trees, but their glances were cursory, and infrequent.
They were dressed in a red tabard covering black shirts.
The two posts on either side of the gate were a bit larger, but still only contained two sentries each.
Devon counted the number of sentry posts.
Devon counted 40 sentry posts, 20 on each side of the gate.
Doing some mental calculations, Devon whistled silently, 'That wall is over thirty-two hundred feet long.'
Turning his attention to the area in front of the wall, Devon scanned the clearing for any sort of cover, as well as looking for the moat that Arkanel had mentioned.
He noted that the moat was there, and wide, traveling the entire distance in front of the wall, and flowing underneath it. He estimated it to be about 30 feet wide. There was nothing remotely resembling cover inbetween the wall and the tree line.
Fading back into the trees a short way, Devon loped north along the wall to it's northern edge and examined it.
Devon moved quickly. Examining the wall, he noted that it appeared to enter into the mountainside. A closer inspection showed the depression where the wall entered the mountain.
He noted, as with the rest of the valley, the mountainsides were exceptionally steep. They could be climbed, slowly and using equipment, but that would be the only way to scale them, save flying.
Moving back to his original position, Devon headed east, looking for the hole that Arkanel had mentioned.
After a bit of searching, Devon found an open grate on the ground. Looking in, he could see a small layer of running water.
Dropping into the pipe, Devon crouched down and looked both ways.
He noted that it curved slightly a short distance to the west. To the east it traveled straight.
Remaining crouched, Devon made his way westward through the small pipe.
Moving westward past the bend, he traveled for a while, until he reached a Y in the piple. Both branches were of equal size, although one was sealed.
Noting the location, Devon moved down the open branch.
The branched curved slightly until it was heading southwest. Just after it straightened he came to another 'y' intersection. The branch to the left, which appearead to travel souteast, was sealed as well. The other path continued westward.
Making note of the location again, Devon estimated how far he had traveled.
Devon couldn't be sure, but he guessed he was a round the wall.
Devon continued westward through the pipe.
A short distance down the pipe, he notted an indentation in the sides that looked like a groove for a valve.
Notting it's place, he continued until he came to what appeared to be a manhole in the top of the pipe. It had a wheel attached to it.
Devon continued down the pipe.
After traveling a short distance, he came to a cross in the pipes. All three had groves that announced they could be closed off, and there was another cover with wheel above the intersection.
Devon placed his ear against the cover, and listened intently.
He heard nothing.
Devon examined the wheel, looking at the condition it was in.
The apparatus appeared to be in good condition.
Gripping the wheel, Devon very slowly started to turn it, ready to stop at the slightest hint of sound.
After the first turn, Devon stopped. The apparatus emmited a soft squeaking sound. It was about the volume of a person talking in a normal conversational tone.
Frowning, Devon abandoned the wheel and pulled out a bit of chalk, making a small mark on the ceiling of the pipe he had arrived through, and a small mark on the ceiling of the pipe extending to the right
Devon then proceeded down the right pipe.
Proceeding along, he notted that a dozen smaller pipes connecting to the one he traveled along. They were about 1/2 a foot in diameter and attached to it from every on both sides of him. Shortly after the last one, the pipe ended.
Retracing his path, Devon headed straight across the intersection, making a small mark on the ceiling as he went.
Proceeding along, he notted that a dozen smaller pipes connecting to the one he traveled along. They were about 1/2 a foot in diameter and attached to it from every on both sides of him. Shortly after the last one, the pipe ended.
Retracing his path once more, Devon turned left at the intersection and headed west again.
After a decent walk, he came to another place the pipes could be closed, and a few feet past that was another manhole cover with wheel attached.
Devon examined the wheel, and, finding it in good condition, slowly turned it, again listening for any sounds.
The wheel squeaked, the same as before, making the same amount of sound.
Noting the location, Devon abandoned the squeeky wheel and continued down the pipe.
Devon continued walking until he came to a rectangular room. It was 5 feet in height, 10 feet wide and 20 feet long. Along the walls he could see smaller pipes connecting here, a small trickle of water came from one, ending a few seconds after he entered the room. On the far side, near the top, was a rectangular entrance, mostly closed, and water gushed forth from the 1/2 inch opening. Two rectangular grates were on the ceiling, a few feet apart, and Devon could make out a closed hatch behind them.
Devon moved over and examined the rectangular entrance.
The entrance seemed to be some kind of water regulation slide. Devon could tell their was a quite a bit of force behind almost completely closed sheef of metal.
Moving over to the grates, Devon gripped one and gave an experimental tug.
The tug proved futile as he noticed they were hinged to open outward when the cover was removed.
Pulling out a crowbar, Devon slid it through the grate and slowly pushed on the hatch, feeling for the amount of resistance offered.
Devon felt movement with little pressure applied.
Using the crowbar, Devon pushed lightly on each of the four edges of the hatch, trying to determine if it opened on hinges, and if so, which side they were on.
Working quickly, Devon determined their were hinges, and they were on the outside of the grate.
OOC: since there are two, I assume you're working on the northern one, assuming you entered from the east and the water valve was on the west. So the hinges are on the north side of it.
Devon looked at the hinges on the grate, and compared their location to the hinges on the hatch.
The hinges were perpendicular to each other. The outer casing's hinges were facing north, and not visible to him, while the grate's hinges were facing west, and inbetween the grate and the outer casing.
Pulling a small mirror from his pack, Devon very slowly opened the hatch just a small bit with his crowbar, ears straining for any sound. With the hatch slightly open, he slipped his hand and the mirror through the grate and looked, pivoting the mirror to sweep the visible area.
Proping the hatch open a little, he could see the other hatch, right in front of the current one. A wheel stood on the west wall, and a door was to the east. The rest of the visible room was bare.
ooc: I'm assuming he can see every direction but North.
Moving over to the other hatch, Devon repeated the process.
Proping the hatch open a little, he could see the other hatch, right in front of the current one. A wheel stood on the west wall, and a door was to the east. Their was a door to the north, but the rest of the room was again bare.
Lifting up on the grate and the hatch, Devon lifted both until he could snake an arm out to grip the hatch as he opened it and the grate carefully.
His arm was a bit stretched, and he had to use both arms awkwardly, but he managed to open both silently.
Silently, Devon pulled himself into the room and padded silently to the eastern door, placing his ear against it as he listened.
Listening, Devon could hear the occasional faint sound: the shuffling of boots upon the ground.
Moving over to the northern door, Devon placed an ear against it as he listened intently.
Listening for a while, Devon heard nothing.
Slowly, Devon turned the knob on the door, opening the door a crack, Devon peeked out.
Peeking inside, Devon spotted a small closet. A quick glance told him it contained sewage cleaning material: A couple shovels, some brooms, and a couple small bags upon a shelf.
Moving back to the eastern door, Devon turned the knob slowly and placed his ear against it to listen briefly.
The knob turned as the sound of fabric moving came to his ears.
Slowly turning the knob back to it's original position, Devon pulled out his multi-optic goggles and used the thermographic vision to look for any heat sources/people near the door.
Looking through the device, he could make out a few distinct sources on the other side of the door, at close range.
Deciding that discretion was best, Devon quietly slipped back into the sewer and carefully pulled the grate and hatch closed.
As soon as the grate was closed, Devon heard noises from above.
"I know I saw the nob turn."
"You too, the closet. You two, with me, lets check the sewer."
Moving swiftly but quietly, Devon raced east through the pipe.
As he moved, he heard the latch open. Light fell on him as he exited the area. He heard the grate open as he raced down the corridor.
Not stopping, Devon continued down the tunnel, heading for the grate in the woods and making note of the blocked off paths on his way back.
Retracing his path, Devon made it safely to the grate in the woods.
Pulling himself out of the sewers, Devon carefully closed the grate.
Moving around the area, Devon carefully obscured the traces of his passing before heading off to the east, using every trick he knew to avoid leaving a trackable trail.
Doing a excellent, job, it would take a tracker of exceptional skill to note Devon's passing.
He moved back towards town, encountering nothing until he approached the river. Peering across, he couldn't see a sole moving around town.
'Well, I might as well change back now.'
A quiet transformation quickly overtook Devon once more, his skin turning pale, and his crimson of his eyes fading to be replaced with a brilliant emerald green.
Letting out a small sigh as the world once more became shrouded in darkness and his shoulders slumped slightly as if from the weight of the world, Devon looked down at his gloved hands. 'I hate this weak form.... if only...'
Shaking his head, Devon broke off that train of thought and ghosted his way through the sleeping city towards Arkanel's home.
Making his way quickly and silently through the sleepy streets, he arrived at his destination.
Walking around behind the house, Devon pulled out his sleeping gear and settled into the same place he had slept earlier.
'If word ever got back to her that I was still alive...' his thought trailed off as he slipped into Morpheus' grip.
The adventurers fell into a deep relaxing sleep. Three men slumbered in the basement of a strange house, while two enjoyed the fresh air and the stars.
Dawn came, and the smells cooking food wafted to all. They were awakened by the ringing of a small bell. Eyes opening, Devon and O'karn woke to the sight of Clara tinkling her silver chime. They each saw the sun newly risen in the east.
Jeremiah, Daggedal, and Remdos all rose to a similar sound, as the looked to the stairs and saw the nameless other servant of their host timidly performing their wake up call.
"Breakfast is served," both called in different places, and waited to lead their charges to their food.
OOC: thanks fig.
Rackham looked at the hides, and grunted with satisfaction. He then proceeded to take the pitons out and put them back in this backpack. After rolling up the hides, he went around putting everything away, in preparation to move quickly once Nirae were rested. He settled down next to Nirae to wait.
O'karn grunted, swiftly rising to his feet. Nodding to the cookslave he moved to follow her.
Fearless Leader
The sun in the west was being greeted by the horizon. Strands of light seemed to reach up from ground, attaching themselves to the weary star and appearing to pull them down.
Nirae felt refreshed, and ready to take on the world, while Rakhan was zoning out, thinking of the fine wolf coat he could have made, and the necklace, that would place fear and revulsion into those he met.
Clara nodded to the O'karn, and led the two men onto the back porch and then through a doorway that led directly into the dining room. She stood there as O'karn passed and she waited for Devon as he followed.
Downstairs, the three men, gathered there things and followed the boy, backtracking the path through the house they had come down into.
Both parties entered the room about the same time. The tables was was set for eight people, with Arkanel sitting paitently at the head. The meat of the morning was goose, with an entire one set out at two different seats. Rolls, jams, eggs (both hard boiled and scambled) and a multitude of fruits was set upon the table.
When they entered, and sat at the table, Arkanel spoke. "We seem to be missing two of your number. Along with the other two from the entry point. I set places in case, while I sent some people to look for your colleagues. If you have any ideas where they might have gone, let me know, though, I will dismiss them or send them after you if you choose to go on ahead. I can't image people who can't make it to a simple house to be reliable enough to wait on. Though, they might have gone on ahead to complete the task I have set you. And Daggedal, I sent for the armour you had commisioned. It should be here in a few minutes."
As if on cue, the smith Daggedal had spoken with the prior evening entered the room. He carried a small sack and walked up to Daggedal. He opened the sack, and showed Daggedal the breastplate, shoulder guards, and helm he had contracted. The shoulder plates and breastplate were of iron, while the helm was steel. They fit well and though the craftmanship could use a little work, they were more than adequate. Testing out a few motions, Daggedal could tell that they didn't constrict his movements more than could be expected, and a few taps told him it would do the job.
"I'll see to your fee later. Thank you for coming," Arkanel said.
"Smells good," Remdos said as he took a whiff of the food. The pangs of hunger were hitting him now full force, a result of his lack of eating anything the day before. Grabbing a roll, he bit into it, slowly chewing so as to savor the taste.
Nirae grinned at the renewed sense of well-being as she stretched.
"Ready to move on when you are, Rackham."
As she waited for his reply, she gazed around at their surroundings.
Daggedal scoffs down food like it's going out of fashion, occasionally punctuating his meal with questions..
"*munch*so, 'ow*chew* far is it ta Came*swallow*lot?"
Nirae saw majestic mountains to the north, the setting sun creating a sight to take ones breath away. Rolling plains were all she could see in other directions, along with a few smatters of dried blood and skinned wolves around.
Rackham snapped out of his daze, and jumped to his feet. "Good!"
He started looking around, making sure he wasn't leaving anything important behind. Rackham then tried to decipher the direction they came in.
Rakham could swear they came from the south.
As Remdos and Daggedal enjoyed there breakfast, Arkanel answered, "A few miles to the west."
Rackham turned to Nirae, "I think we came from the south, lets go."
He then started walking in a southernly direction, looking for the trail he must have made when running afer Nirae, he hadn't been trying to be stealthy at all.
"By the way, do you have any cord? I would like to make a...necklace..."
The adventuring party finished their meal and gathered their things, swiftly moving out towards Camelot. Arkanel was left to instruct the party members who hadn't shown up to follow along as best they could. Traveling to about a mile away from Camelot according to their map, O'karn paused, turning to survey those that he had to work with. "Someone needs to scout out the castle," he grunted.
Fearless Leader
The adventurer's found themselves in sparse forest.
Remdos had enjoyed the meal earlier, and even if they'd quickly left on their journey, he'd at least remembered to take some extras with him. He did wish he'd done more than fill up his canteens with water and taken an apple though. Oh well, best to travel somewhat light, and he could always go hunting for more food, he supposed.
In the meantime, he'd best be keeping his eyes out for good sturdy trees he could climb around here while someone else considered taking up the giant's request. Forests were, after all, an excellent place to attack...and be attacked.
Glancing around, Remdos noticed there were some choice climbing trees. Sturdy branches beconed, although, he also noticed most of the good climbing trees were pretty spread out.
Nirae and Rackham started to walk. They were unable to find any real traces of their earlier passing. The time and occasional wind had already raised the grass back up, covering up those blades that had been broken by their passing.
Undeterred, they continued forward until they say the raised stone they had been called to this world upon.
"I did a bit of scouting last night," Devon crouched down and cleared a patch of ground before pulling a dagger from his boot to illustrate his descriptions.
"About a mile west of here there's a long wall, it's about thirty feet high and stretches across the valley, close to thirty-two hundred feet, from one cliff face to another. In front of the wall there's a moat, looked to be about thirty feet wide. Arkanel said that these were a peaceful people, but someone in there knows what he's doing. They've cleared the trees and brush out to three hundred yards from the wall. In the center of the wall there's a large drawbridge. On either side of the gate, on top of the wall, there's a sentry post and another sentry post every seventy-five feet for the full length of the wall. I don't know how many sentries they'll have on duty during the day, but the night shift consisted of two sentries at each post. The sentries themselves didn't seem to be extremely alert, but the shear number of them as well as the distance between the wall and any sort of cover makes attempting to scale the wall at night difficult to say the least. There is a storm grate not too far from here that leads into the drainage pipe connected to Camelot's sewer system. The pipe itself is a bit small but there isn't much water flowing through it, so it is passable. The pipe runs west from the river and under the wall until it opens up a bit into a larger chamber that is connected to what I believe is the basement of the castle."
Remdos blinked as that one fellow spoke. When he finished, he simply could not resist asking, "You have a very good lung capacity, don't you? Man, what a mouthful!"
He tried to decipher through all of it though, even if he wasn't used to hearing so much information without pause. Thankfully the guy had drawn a crude map in the ground to help them decipher his comments. He took his eyes from his tree search and began to take in the map's layout.
"Believe?" O'karn grunted, "You did not check further?"
Fearless Leader
"There is a small room with a pair of grates covered by hatches that lead down into the sewer," Devon pointed at a spot on the crude map he'd drawn.
"Two doors lead out of the room, this one here is a broom closet, while this one I assume leads to the rest of the castle. Whoever set the watch at night believes in overkill, I counted three guards immediately on the other side of the door, and there was at least one more nearby," Devon gestured with the dagger.
"I didn't have the means to slip past them undetected," he finished with a shrug.
O'karn nodded, turning to look towards the mountains considering.
Fearless Leader
I assume we can see the mountains from where we are.
To both the north and the south, O'karn could see the line of mountains outlining the valley creating a backdrop to the trees. He could easily discern that distance between the two sides were coming closer together as they traveled west. He could also see the plateau both sides offered after percipitous climb.
O'karn nodded, pulling out a golden ring and flipping it to Devon. "You scout out the castle and meet over there," he turned to gesture to the north plateau, "When the moon is high. This ring will shield you from sight for three times. Wear it and thank Syfier for his protection. Now go."
Fearless Leader
Miaka woke to the smell of freshly cooked food, breakfast if her nose wasn't lying to her, and her nose never lied to her.
Soft downy pillows supported her head, while she was covered in equally comfortable blankets. She looked around to find herself in a well decorated room. There were open windows on the wall to her left, and a door to the right. A fireplace was across from her, vacant of logs or other implements of a fire.
Next to the door stood a tall armoire, with full length mirror on its front. A small dressing table was next to it. Next to the bed, was a night stand, covered with a plate full of cooked sausages, eggs, a glass of juice, a warm bread roll, and knife and fork.
Closing her eyes and turning her head away, Miaka vowed not to eat any of the food. The smells of breakfast finally overcame her will, and she looked at her plate again, only to see most of it already gone. It had been tasty, she realized in an afterthought, decimating the rest of it absent mindedly.
Miaka got up from the bed, and took off the white cloak she was wearing over her school uniform. Looking around, she went to check the armoire.
Catching the ring, Devon glanced down at the simple golden band, "So it's good for three uses, how long will each use last?"
Miaka crossed the floor. Opening the armoire, she finds it empty save a single blue dress, her size.
Checking her pockets and glancing around the room, she sees no sign of her backpack or any other items.
The door opened and Miaka turned and watched as Lafiel walked into the door.
"You tricked me and stole all my food!" Miaka wailed in accusation, pointing at Lafiel. How could you?!"
Lafiel looked at the other girl evenly. "You asked to meet Zaphiel. So you're going to meet him."
Miaka responded, "But why did you have to stab me in the side? It really hurt a lot, you know?"
Lafiel looked afronted, and replied defensively, "I couldn't give you a chance to betray this location, or more importantly, ways to get in here"
"A blindfold comes to mind," Miaka said, sniffling. Stealing a cautious glance at Lafiel's eyes, she asked, "So... what now?"
Lafiel's distant eyes looked back at Miaka. "A blindfold wouldn't have kept you from teleporting away, and being able to give some clues.." Lafiel mused. "And now, let's go meet my father. He should still be having breakfast." Lafiel turned to leave.
Miaka's eyes widened at the magic word, and she lost control over her body, following Lafiel.
Lafiel opened the door, and led the Miaka out of the room. She nodded to the two silver-haired soldiers who were standing outside, and turned right, without making a sound. The soldiers turned and trailed after the two woman as Lafiel led them down the hallway, around a corner, that led to a large staircase the their right. To the left was a balcony that overlooked a small pool that was fed by a gorgeous waterfall. Leading the other woman down the stairs, they took the first left and walked into a huge banquet hall. There were soldiers sitting at the various tables, but the largest one at the head of the room only held two men. Lafiel walked directly to the front table.
"Father, this is one of the people Arkanel called to assassinate you. Her name is Miaka," Lafiel said.
"Hey, that's not what I said!" Miaka yelled, interrupting Lafiel. "I told you I was here to save the world!"
Lafiel grunted and then said condescendingly, "Isn't that how Arkanel asked you to save the world? By killing my father?"
"By defeating him, rather." Miaka frowned. "Of course, I understood that it could come to killing him, if that was the only way to divert the threat on the world." Pointing a finger at Lafiel accusingly, she added, "Your world!"
Lafiel reared up to speak, but was cut-off by the deep laughter that was heard from the table. "I like your spirit girl," the man said.
"Father," Lafiel responded, exasperated. "I'm glad you're open minded. I hope the others are as well. I'd hate to have to kill them. But kill them I will if they decide to side with my misguided friend."
The man stood while he spoke. His silk shirt hung loosely of his 6'4" frame and made Miaka feel small in comparison.
Miaka thought about recent events. She had been kidnapped, yet she was still able to achieve her goal, which was to meet Zaphiel, and ask him one important question. "So, are you evil?"
Zaphiel chuckled again, cutting Lafiel protest off before it was voiced. "I could ask you to define you're interpretation of evil? But without getting into a deep philosophical debate, I can answer as follows: I don't think of myself as evil, though Arkanel seems to think I am, and others will agree with him. Please have a seat, if we're going to be involved in a long conversation, I think sitting and enjoying the rest of breakfast is in order." He motioned for a seat across from the elderly gentleman. "Lafiel, sit too, please." She grumbled, and waited for Miaka's response.
"Anyone who enjoys breakfast can't be fully evil," Miaka admitted grudgingly, and sat down at the table. "Where's my portion?" she asked, looking around for it.
Zaphiel snapped his fingers. One of two serving boys who had been positioned behind him took a few plates from the cabinet situated next to him. Running forward, he placed one down in front of both Miaka and Lafiel, who had sat in response to Miaka. The other boy ran through a doorway that was situated close to him. Miaka could see the outlines of a kitchen when the door opened for a few moments.
"I am sorry for how you were brought here. But secrecy in certain regards can't be taken too lightly," Zaphiel said. The boy returned shortly with a large tray that had several portions of the breakfast foods Miaka had already consumed upon them. He returned to the table and set them in the middle, while the first boy had retrieved napkins, glasses and pitchers of juice and water.
Miaka shrugged. "And you obviously didn't trust my words enough to leave me with my stuff, right?"
"Should I?" Zaphiel asked. "And what words have you given to me? You said yourself you would kill me if you deemed it necessary."
"I promised Lafiel I wasn't going to attack anyone while meeting you, which obviously included you, Zaphiel." Miaka smiled thinly. "Besides, you're still alive, aren't you?"
"You never promised that!?" Lafiel said angrily.
"Did so!" Miaka replied, pulling down her eyelid and raspberrying Lafiel
"When!" Lafiel cried
"When I told you that my stuff was too dangerous to leave unguarded, and that I will bring it with me!" Miaka exclaimed, matching Lafiel's tone of voice.
Lafiel looked deflated for a second, "oh... maybe you did. But why should I trust someone who was recruited to assassinate my father?!"
Miaka palmed her forehead. "Fine, have it your way. You'd make a wonderful revisionist historian on my world." Turning to look firmly at Zaphiel while pointedly ignoring Lafiel, she said, "None of the things in my backpack are related to my powers. They were mementos from my friends, the Celestial Warriors of Suzaku. Like I said, I just came here to talk. So let's talk--" She smiled suddenly. "After breakfast!"
Lafiel sputtered as Zaphiel laughed at the two women. "Anyway, I think that's a good idea. but first, Martin," he addressed one of the soldiers standing behind Miaka, "Will you get the lady her belongings, minus the transporter rod." One of the soldiers nodded, and walked off. "Let's eat." And he preceded to do so, while Lafiel stewed before she grudgingly began to eat food herself.
Miaka tore at the food, enjoying the flavors. A small voice in her head insisted that the food might be poisoned, but she never paid it any mind before in her life, and wasn't about to start now.
"So... you wished to speak to me?" Zaphiel asked in-between bites.
"Yep," Miaka replied, wiping her lips off with her napkin, having finished the food on her plate. "Are you forming an army?" she asked bluntly.
"Yes," Zaphiel responded. "Would you like to join?"
Miaka blinked. "Why should I?"
"To help free the land from the old ones," Zaphiel responded.
Miaka blinked again. "The who?"
Zaphiel paused in his eating, looking directly at the young girl. "There is no real name for them, so I dubbed them old ones or ancients. They are the ones who built this place, placed the restrictions upon magic, placed the Chosen above all others, and must be stopped."
"I see," Miaka mused. "You're talking about the ones who had that war Arkanel mentioned...." Suddenly remembering something, she asked, "But then, why haven't you told this to Arkanel? Instead, you threatened to kill him!"
"Kill him. Why would I kill him?" Zaphiel asked, confused.
"Umm..." Miaka fished for words. "He said you wanted to? Oh! He also said you killed several of the men he sent into Camelot. You don't deny that, do you?"
Zaphiel paused for mimunte before answerering, "Men have been killed as they tried to interfere with working around here. I don't deny that. Although unlikely, if the old ones have found out my intent, they will be attack and my men are training to defend themselves."
"Why don't you explain your side of the story?" Miaka offered, finally deciding to drop the suspicions Lafiel's methods and deceptions had caused and giving Zaphiel a chance for the time being. "The whole deal with the Ancients, and how it started?"
"That seems a fair request, though the story is a bit involved, are you sure you want to hear it?" Zaphiel replied.
Miaka shrugged, managing a small smile. "I did say I came here to talk...."
"Syfier hides you until you wish to be unhidden or take part in the rage of battle."
Fearless Leader
Slipping the ring into a pocket, Devon nodded to O'karn, "When the moon is high then."
Without another word, he pulled up the hood on his cloak and disappeared silently into the forest.
Moving swiftly but stealthily, Devon made his way towards the large clearing before the wall, planning on scanning the battlements from the shadowed wood.
Moving easily, Devon reached the clearing's edge. The sight that greeted him was the same as the night before.
O'karn turned to the rest of his mottled assorted comrades and sniffed. "We make for the mountains. Move out."
Turning, he didn't care to see if they listened to him as he stalked forward towards the northern mountain he'd indicated earlier.
Fearless Leader
Moving at a sedate pace, sedate for an Ogre, O'karn made his way northward. After a while, he found himself in the clearing, where the trees ended and the mountain came down. Peering up, he noticed the precipitus angle the rocks made with the ground.
Pulling out his binoculars, Devon took a closer look at the sentries, noting posture, cleanliness, alertness, all the telltales to try and determine their level of training.
Devon noted that speaking, yawning, and using the wall as a back rest were the predominate actions of those keeping watch.
The sentries posted closest to the gate, while not examples of the best of the best, did at least seem to be making a concerted effort to watch the road, if not much else.
Followed by the puny humans, O'karn looked seriously over the mountainside before pulling out his climbing equipment. Spiking in, he began the climb up the mountain, skillfully traveling up the stonewall.
Fearless Leader
O'karm made good headway up the mountain. Seeing the lack of ease at which the human's followed, he disdainfully lowered rope and tied it off when he found suitable holds.
The trip up was time consuming, and tiring. It was early evening when they made the plateu.
Looking down, they humans felt impressed at their cliimb, while O'karn was impressed that he hadn't let any fall.
Stowing the binoculars, Devon made his way to the grate leading into the drain pipe, dropping his transformation along the way.
Devon easily made it to the sewage grate. He found it as he had left it last night.
Looking over the plateau with a trained eye, O'karn assessed how visible it would be from the castle.
Fearless Leader
Opening the grate, Devon dropped down into the pipe and headed west.
O'karn could make out the castle in the distance. A large courtyard separated the wall he had seen and an inner wall to the keep.
Their were two main main buildings in the courtyard, and training areas. Where O'karn could make out the puny humans practicing for battle.
Behind the second wall, he could see the keep, far enough away that he doubted anyone would spot them unaided.
ooc: not exactly sure what you're asking. Short of a large fire your not visible from the ground and definitely not from the walls or keep at this distance.
Carefully following his steps from the precious evening, Devon made it to the large pen at the end. Both grates on the ceiling were closed and the modest amount of water was still spilling into it from the far wall.
ooc: If you had wanted to stop sooner, I'll delete, but I assumed from your post this is where you were headed.
O'karn nodded to himself, turning around. "We set up camp here and wait."
Fearless Leader
Donning his goggles, Devon once again activated the thermal vision and tried to detect any heat sources in the room above.
Devon noted nothing through the steel ceiling and stone floor, nor anything through the closed steel grates.
Raising the goggles to rest against his forehead, Devon pulled out a small mirror and stretched one hand through the bars to open the southern hatch the barest fraction of an inch, before using the mirror to quickly glance about the room, looking for anything that might be different.
Devon noticed that nothing was different from the night before.
Moving to the northern hatch, Devon repeated the process.
Devon spied a room that was the same as the night before.
Stowing the mirror, Devon quietly opened the hatch and grate before climbing into the room and glancing around.
Devon made it into the room succesfully. He found it unchanged since the prior evening.
Pulling his goggles down over his eyes, Devon scanned the east door and wall with the thermal vision.
Looking for a decent period of time, Devon could make out two heat signatures behind the wall.
Stowing his goggles, Devon examined the base of the door, looking at the gap between the floor and the door.
Devon found a 2 centimeter gap between the base of the door and the floor.
Pulling out the mirror again, Devon used it to scan what he could of the room beyond, moving it from one side of the opening to the other, looking for things like feet, table/chair legs, rugs, etc...
Devon found the door too wide and the opening too small to see anything.
Placing his ear to the door, Devon listened intently.
Listening intently, Devon could make out hte occasional footstep.
Slipping on the ring O'karn had given him, Devon slowly turned the knob on the door, listening for any change in the sounds coming from the other side.
Devon turned the knob the entire way, without hearing anything other than the knob.
Swiftly, Devon opened the door and slipped through, leaving the door open just a crack as he looked around.
Devon found himself in a short hallway, that led to a 't' intesection about five feet away. There were two men standing in the intersection, dressed as soldiers. Swords were at their sides and they were chatting softly, speaking about a date one of them had later that night.
They were roughly 5'8, skinny with silver hair.
Turning the knob once more, Devon eased the door closed before slowly returning the knob to it's original position.
The soldiers continue their fascinating conversation.
Moving with the utmost care, Devon slipped past the guards and down the hallway to the right, stopping about five feet in to peer down the hallway in each direction.
Devon also slipped past a small table and chairs set in the hallway around the corner.
Looking behind him, past the soldiers, Devon noted the hall seemed to end at another hall, moving perpendictular to the one he was currently in.
The direction he came from did the same.
ooc: small map to help.
Devon - x
soldiers - o
table - z
|____________|
_____ o _z____X
| | | |
|____| |_____|
Sewer room
Moving to the perpendicular hallway closest to him, Devon looked both ways.
Devon saw about twenty five feet of empty hallway in each direction.
Devon made his way down the hallway to the right.
As Devon moved along the hallway, the sound of running water became apparent, more so when he reached the end of it.
Their was a connecting hallway on his left. He could see that it traveled about 25 feet before the outline of a doorway could be seen.
About ten feet down, two soldiers were standing in the hallway, swords at their hips, in front of two doors that faced each other.
The were both moderatly alert, one was facing away, whle the other was facing out the door to the right.
Turning around, Devon went back down the hallway, passing the small hallway with the two guards.
Walking passed the corridor he came from, he walked about 25 feet to another 't' intersection.
The right went about 15 feet to a sturdy looking wooden door. To the left, about ten feet down stood two more soldiers, standing outside two doors facing each other.
Moving down the hallway to the left, Devon stopped five feet from the guards and looked at the doors.
Both doors were closed and wooded, with iron reinforcements present.
Devon moved silently down the hallway, continuing past the sentries.
Devon moved past them, another 15 feet before coming to another intersection. A hallway met the one he was on from his left.
Ahead, he could see a small doorway on his right, a little ways down the hallway, and then a set of stairs going up, past that.
Devon looked down the hallway to the left.
The hallway continued for quite some distance. The only discerning marks were their appeared to be a doorway near the end on the right side, and a passage was visible on the left, after about 15 or 20 feet.
Devon moved down the hallway to the left.
Stopping at the next intersection, Devon noted the hallway to his left was where he had come forth from.
The hallway continued on ahead till it ended. A door clearly visible right before it ended.
Going over to the door at the end of the hallway, Devon examined it.
It was a sturdy door with a an opening at the top in the middle of it. The opening was covered by think bars and a wooden panel that seemed to open/close from the other side.
Nodding to himself, Devon headed back towards the stairs and looked up them.
Heading back the way he came, he looked up the staircase to see that they led to another hallway.
Devon went up the stairs and looked around.
Devon found himself in the middle of a long wide hallway. To doors were on opposite sides of to the front of him. Two doors were on opposite sides behind him, and another door was at the end of the hallway there.
He could here commotion past the walls on his right.
A woman dressed plainly came out of the door ahead of him on the left, carrying a bag of something and went into the door ahead of him on the right.
Devon moved off of the stairs and looked down the hallway behind him.
The floors seemed to be in recent and heavy use, the two doors on the sides and the one at the end of the hall were unchanging.
'Well, one direction's as good as another at this point.'
Devon walked down the hallway in front of him, heading away from the door he had just looked at.
He saw to his chagrin, that the hallway ended.
Blinking, Devon turned and made his way to the door at the other end of the hallway.
Devon came to the end of the hallway, the wooded door stood resolutely closed in front of him.
Devon glanced around the make sure the hallway was clear.
Remdos shook his head after the exhausting climb up the mountain. As the giant gave his order to set up camp, Remdos dug into his bag and grabbed one of his canteens, taking a big gulp of water before closing it and putting it away again.
Devon noticed the hallway he was in was currently clear.
Devon used his goggles to look for heat sources on the other side of the door, stepping slightly to the side so as not to be in the way if someone were to suddenly open it.
Devon saw two man sized heat sources.
Devon turned and walked over the the nearest door on the left wall and activated his thermal vision again.
Devon could detect no large heat sources.
Deactivating the thermal vision, Devon opened the door.
Devon opened the door to reveal a large rectangular room. The centerpiece was a large table with twenty chairs surrounding it. Their was another door, standing closed to the north.
Devon slipped through the door and shut it softly behind him.
Looking about curiously, Devon circumnavigated the large table, before stopping in front of the north door.
Activating his goggle's thermal imaging mode once more, he took a look at the area beyond the closed portal.
Looking around, he saw nothing through his goggles.
Deactivating the thermal vision, Devon opened the door a bit and looked through.
Devon found the door locked.
Devon made his back to the other door and slipped through quickly.
Devon found himself in the hallway with the staircase.
Walking to the doorway at the end of the hall once more, Devon did another scan to see if the heat sources were still there.
The heat sources were still there.
Thinking for a moment, Devon knocked on the door before stepping back and to the side.
After waiting a minute, Devon heard something from behind him. He turned to see two young woman walk from the far door on the right, to the far door on the left.
Nothing else happened.
Devon opened the door in front of him just a tad and looked through the crack.
Looking through, Devon could see part of a large room, well decorated.
Moving quickly, Devon slipped through the door and closed it softly behind himself.
Devon found himself in the northwest corner of a large room. Glancing up, he could see a stairwell that ran directly over him. Their was another stairwell that was located across from him,
Running east-west down the center of the room was a large plus carpet. It ended to the west, near him, at a set of large double doors that had two soldiers standing in front of them.
Their was a another doorway directly across from him, and he turned to watch as a group of soldiers walked out of the doorway to his left.
Moving along the wall to the west, Devon looked at the east end of the room.
Devon could see another set of large double doors on the east end of the room. The souldiers that had entered the hall where piling out that way.
Other than the door Devon had come out of, there were two more doors on the same wall. Three doors mirrored the three on the north wall. The doors on the side walls were all wooden and of average size.
Devon made his way to the base of the stairwell he had entered under and looked up it.
He saw that the two stairwells met at a sort of balcony above him. He could see sunlight shiny forth from over the railings.
Devon made his way up the stairs to the balcony.
The balcony overlooked the hallway. Devon could see more soldiers entering the hallway from the door on the North wall and heading outside. He had seen ten in all so far.
The balcony was connected to a hallway. Directly accross from the balcony, there was a huge glass window, that had a door in the middle of it. Outside was another balcony, with stone railing. It overlooked a pond that was fed by a spectacular waterfall.
Devon went over to the door leading outside and quickly slipped through.
Devon stood on a narrow stone balcony overlooking the semi-circled pond that was the repository for the waterfall. He could feel the fine mist of water hit his face and the roaring of the water drowned out most sound.
The stone railing was intricately designed with a floral pattern, and stood waiste high.
Looking down, he could see the rear of the castle. A group of guards stood at moderate attention together on the ground to his left and he could see a set of stairs plainly visible leading down somewhere.
As he looked he saw Miaka walking with one of the guards past the other soldiers and underneath.
Quickly slipping over the side of the balcony, Devon gripped the edge of the railing before dropping down onto the road below.
Devon landed easily, turning his head, he noticed some of the soldiers look in his direction before returning to their own actions.
Miaka and the soldier continued walking, approaching the corner of the castle in the distance.
Moving swiftly but silently, Devon hurried after Miaka and her escort.
Devon hurried after them. Turning the corner, he noted that there was about 100 yards between the mountains and the castle wall here.
The path he traveled was dirt, and looked to be old, the grass and flowers were making an effort to reclain the land he now traversed.
Looking he could see the where the plots seemed to be partitioned into an old garden.
Devon continued on, still moving swiftly so as to close the gap between himself and Miaka enough that he could overhear the conversation, slowing down and matching her pace once he did so.
Devon caught up to them when they made it to the next corner. They walked into the front couryard.
A large wall could be seen in the distance. Devon could instantly tell from the size it wasn't the same one he had seen before.
The guard was paying attention to the chatty Miaka, although Devon could see no form of coersion in their steps. He appeared to be given her a tour of the grounds.
The pair he was trainling continued on towards the gate in the wall and through where they stopped a few feet into them.
Their were two large stone buildings on either side of the road that cut through the middle of the valley.
Behind both buildings their were fields, were training, both physical and magical were taking place.
Looking around, Devon did a quick count of the number of people on the training grounds, still following Miaka.
Devon quickly counted thirty people in both areas.
Devon continued to follow Miaka and her escort, eavesdropping on their conversation as he built a mental map of the grounds while they walked.
O'karn calmly sharpened his blade as he awoke for last watch over the plain. The stalwart ogre ready to kill everything that crossed him. His mask was in place and his weapons ready for action.
Fearless Leader
because we've been silent too long. Damn it, doesn't anyone know how to do watch role playing?!
Devon silently followed the pair into the main hall. He clearly heard the conversation they had had about magic, Miaka's request to speak with Zaphiel, and the the soldier refering to Miaka as a guest.
He watched as the young serving girl walked away.
'Just what is going on here?'
Devon moved closer to Miaka, stopping about five feet away.
'Maybe Miaka's chat with Zaphiel will shed some light on this situation...'
Devon stood and waited. He saw the soldier greet the two and mention a meeting place, before the soldier indicated a direction for Miaka to go.
Devon continued to follow Miaka, keeping his distance, but ready to dart through any door they might go through.
Devon followed the pair into the hallway he had emerged from before.
Devon followed the pair into the meeting room he had explored earlier. He noted the guard offerering her a seat.
Quickly glancing around, Devon slipped over to the large armoire on the east wall, more specifically, the tall shadow it cast, entering it's darkened embrace with nary a sound.
'Now I hurry up and wait.' Devon thought wryly to himself while relaxing slightly in the comforting sensation of becoming one with the shadow once more.
Devon didn't have to wait very long as the door opened up, and in stepped four people. The trailing two were easily identifiable as guards. The man in front was tall, with silver hair, and radiated self-confidence. In the middle, was a woman Devon recognized as arriving with them, Areal.
Four Savoirs sat upon the plateau, upon the northern range of mountins that encolosed the peaceful valley they had been brought to. They were waiting patiently for their new comrade, who had bravely set out to gathern information about the bojective of their quest. The sun had moved slowly, tracking time as they said little and did less.
The sun long past its zenith, it began to dip below the northern, unexplored, expanse. A shriek exploded through their midst as a golden bolt pierced the chect of the Englishman, Jeremiah.
Moving quickly, the great O'karn lifted up the small man and held him aloft, a shield against further injury. He ran towards the north, scattered threes and rockier terran was his goal.
Remdos brought his bow to the ready and and Daggedal raised a shield as they hussled after the large O'karn.
All three saw a flash of light as the air shimmered in front of them and another bolt sped towards them. O'karn easily shifted his makeshaft shield as the bolt thudded into the dead man's chest.
As the flash occured, Remdos stopped and pulled on the bowstring, an arrow in hand. When the bolt hit the body of Jeremiah, Remdos let the arrow fly towards the center of that shimmering air phenomenom as a test shot.
Remdos’ Arrow sped true. It passed through the air less than 2 inches from where the bolt commenced. The air shimmered and three men appeared where moments before, there was nothing.
The arrow made a loud “Thump,” as it found its way into the shoulder of the man in the center.
“Idiot!” shouted the man on the left as a flame the size of two balled fists flew form his hands, aiming straight for Remdos. There was a third man on the right, anxiety clearly covered his face.
O’karn was in the lead, 30 feet from their opponents, with Daggedal a good five feet behind him, and Remdo, taking up the rear, ten feet further behind.
O'Karn's strong arm swung forth, flinging the dead corpse right at the fireball as he swung to the other side, continuing towards the three in a brutal charge. His mighty hand reached back for his blade as he unsheathed it, swinging swiftly at the fools before him.
Dracos
Remdos' eyes widened as he dove to the left side as soon as he saw the spell, while grabbing another arrow from his back. That fireball didn't look like the cheap parlor tricks he'd faced in the past.
"Well, about bloody time things got interesting," he muttered quietly, having missed the earlier attacks on his companions. As he started to get up, his eyes hunted for the fireball.
Daggedal ponders the virtues of archery, but charges in with shield in front anyway, 'cos by the time he got his bow out, the battle would be over, one way or the other.
He makes a careful note to make sure the ogre dosn't hit him by mistake; he somehow doubted collateral damage was in the things vocabulary.
Rushing forward, he thrusts his sword towards the mage.
With any luck, he'll have one of those magic-enabling rings..
O'karn's throw was slightly off as the body missed the fireball, sailing through the air. It continued on its way past both the Ogre and Daggedal, exploding a couple feet from Remdos.
The explosion went off like a cannon explosion. The force of the blast caused Remdos to loose his balance and fall on his side, failing to stand.
The blast caused Daggedal to stumble and O'karn to wonder about the warm evening breeze. The three opponents yelled in unison and turned to run. The one who had fired the fireball took the lead at a health sprint. The one with the arrow in his arm followed not nearly as fast, and the last stumbled and found O'karn's blade severed his arm and slid easily into his side.
Daggedal races past the Ogre giving him a wide berth.
The two remaining scouts don't flinch at the screams of their comrads as they continue to run.
Daggedal continues to rush after the man with the arrow in his back, figuring him for an easy kill. Perhaps he'll be able to get a shot at the mage with his bow in a moment..
Daggedal continues the pursuit through the sparse forest. He slowly overtakes the wonunded man while the fleet footed one changes course.
Daggedal slams the wounded man in the head with his shield, aiming to knock him out and take him back for questioning.
A few steps more and Daggedal swings his shield forward impacting the mans head and sending him flying forward as his screams of agony fill the air.
Daggedal quickly rushes to the mans body and slams his head once more, to make sure he's good and unconcious.
O'karn calmly sheathed his sword, pulling out of his bag his massive crossbow. Lining up the guy's back, he carefully took aim and let rip with a crossbow bolt.
Dracos
FIRE ONE!
Remdos curses as he pulls himself upward from his downed and unbalanced position. That -really- hadn't been a cheap parlor trick.
Once up, he pulls on the bowstring and arrow, holding them in position as his eyes checked for the status of the three targets and whether to fire at one.
Daggedal bashes the downed man and smirks to himself when the incessant whining ends.
O’karn pulled forth his mighty crossbow and let fire a bolt that thudded into a tree as the man ran unharmed. Gurgling could be heard as the man at his feet tried to cry in anguish but found nothing but blood came forth.
Remdos rose to a knee and found the lone man standing was still running, though quite a distance away at this point.
Taking careful aim, Remdos lets loose his metal arrow, straight at the back of the running man's throat.
With uncanny accuracy the arrow flew through the air. Remdos stood still, knowing when loosed it was a perfect release. Time slowed for the man as he observed his arrow's flight through the air, to embed itself in the throat of the last fleeing scout. His limbs flew outwards as he landed hard on his belly, soundless from the distance.
"Ha!" Remdos exclaimed as he stood up with a grin. "That'll bloody well teach you not to shoot people with fireballs!"
He paused at that, and leaned the tip of his bow under his chin. "Of course, that lesson'll only really help you in the afterlife, I suppose."
With that, he checked to see if his companions needed help with the other two attackers.
Having been running for the past few moments, Daggedal decides a bit more won't hurt, and leaves the unconcious man there for someone else to pick up while he goes to check the fireball-thrower for one of those rings.. or anything else that might help him cast his spells once more.
Remdos walked towards O'karn while Daggedal jogged to the downed human. He bent over and did a thorough search of the dead man. He was pale with white hair, and wore a light woolen tunic and hose. He found the following things on his person:
1) Tunic and hose
2) A leather flask filled with a clear liquid.
3) A leather belt.
4) A small dagger strapped to his belt.
5) A small satchel that contained 20 coins of unknown denomination.
6) Another small satchel that contained two scrolls, sealed in wax.
7) A silver ring with a small diamond on his left hand.
Salvius snags the ring and slips it on his finger. Then he grabs the coinage, scrolls, and the bottle of liquid.
Firstly, he opens the bottle and his a quick sip of the stuff, to see if he can recognize what it is. Secondly, he opens the scrolls and has a look at them. Thirdly, he tries just accessing his magical powers to see if he can cast without pain.
OOC: Accessing magical powers takes negligible energy; I don't wanna cast a full-blown spell until I know I can. >_>
O'karn stalks around, his eyes looking carefully for any threat. His bloodlust not really sated by the quick and easy battle. Moving towards his fired bolt, he attempts to retrieve it.
Dracos
Daggedal takes a quick sip and enjoys the refreshing taste of the lemon flavored water. He notices no other affects as he collects his contraband. He slips the ring on and summons a small amount of magic.... nothing happens.
O'karn removes his bolt from the tree seeing and hearing no other threats in the area.
OOC: Yay?
IC:
O'karn shakes his head and sees to his weapons, making sure to clean the human blood off of them. Glancing over his shoulder, he rumbled, "I do hope no scrawny human is thinking of making off with all of the loot."
Dracos
"Ach, ye be being picky, my large friend," says Daggedal. "There be plenty of loot for all of ye, which I shall be doleing out in good measure."
He uses his trained magical senses to sense any magic the goons might have been carrying..
Remdos looked down at himself. He didn't -think- he was the scrawny sort, but answered the ogre, nonetheless.
"So long as I get enough to be able to buy some food if needed, I'm content enough for now," he replies before he walks towards Daggedal, to get the arrow out of the dead man's throat.
O'karn enjoys his cleaning while Remdos retrieves his arrow.
Daggedal notices small quantities of magic emenating from the other two bodies.
Daggedal checks both other bodies for possessions, taking all the gold for imminant dispersal and any Interesting Items (read: Magic).
Daggedal finds that all three were amost identically equiped.
He finds a total of 21 more coins, 19 copper and 2 silver. 2 rings with a small diamond upon them, 2 daggers and 3 scrolls all sealed with wax.
Daggedal doles out money in the following manner:
O'Karn: 20 Copper, a Silver
Remdos: 17 Copper, a Silver
Himself: 2 Silvers
He then reads each and every scroll he's picked up.
Taking one of the scrolls at random, Daggedal notices a small symbol of a flame on it. Breaking open the seal, he unravels the scroll and finds writing on it. Writing that he can't decipher.
Daggedal mutters a few quick words under his breath, casting a quick spell.
OOC: Read Magic, j0.
The words seem to shift before his eyes as he finds he can now decipher the 'create fire' spell.
Daggedal quickly checks the rest of the scrolls, and pockets them.
Nothing more handy than instant-magic..
including the scroll Daggedal already read he finds himself the holder of the following scrolls:
1) Create small fire
2) Create food
3) Lightning bold
4) Create water
5) Cure wounds
Daggedal nods to himself, and heads over to the unconcious soldier, removing all weapons from him and tying him against a tree.
"Oi, ye two should com 'ere, 'eve got orselves a prisner!"
O'karn nods with a toothy grin, heading over. "Scrawny human." He sniffs at the prisoner.
Dracos
"We dun wanna be scarin' the lad too mooch," says Daggedal, failing to keep his own grin off his face.
A few slaps with his glove should wake him up..
The head, which was lolling around like a wet noodle, gains some resiliency as the prisoner wakes up.
"Ullo there, lad! We've taken care of your friends, and they're in good hands," speaketh Daggedal. "Owever, we've opted to take a different 'proach wif yoo.
We will ask and you will tell. And the first question is: Do 'ye oonderstand?"
The man blinks as he tries to steady his head. After a few attempts he appears to be fully awake. Looking at his captor, he yells, "Don't Hurt Me!" and starts squirming, only to have his injured arm cause him to flinch.
"Now, lad, we won't be 'urting 'ye, 'slong as ye answer a few questions," replies Daggedal.
The young prisoner took a few deep breaths as he tried to come to grips with his pain. "You aren't from the village! Wha.. what do you want?"
"Why you're slinging spells at us in the first place might be my guess," replies Daggedal, snorting. "Do you greet everyone this way?"
"Greet... No... no... no one is supposed to be up here."
"I dinna see any signs, lad," replies Daggedal. "Joos why wood nobody be alloud here?"
The captive blinks, a very confused expression passes his face before he answers, "Because no one is allowed. Everyone is supposed to know that!"
"ere' noo, egsplain, laddie," replies Daggedal.
The boy groans in pain before recovering enough to say, "Explain? No one is allowed up here. Everyone but you outsiders would know that."
"'ell then, ye'll be doing some enlightning, then.
'oo lives in that castle in the valley? Could it be that 'es the one so cruelly forcin' the common man away from 'is sizable grounds?" replies Daggedal.
The boy looks taken aback for a moment. "Castle..?" He appears deep in thought before answering, "Camelot? No on lives there. It's also forbidden to all!"
Daggedal kicks the boy in the stomach, none too gently. "Try again."
The boy doubles over gripping his stomach. "What?!" he groans out. A Few minutes pass as he rights himself before yelling out. "No one is supposed to be living there. There's a romor some people have." He then pants, "But I don't believe it..."
"So you set guards where no one would be supposed to go anyway knowing that we are supposed to go there?" O'karn cracks a knuckle, "Scrawny human doesn't lie well!"
Dracos
The boy shivers... "Lie," his teeth chatter as he looks up at the ogre. "It's customary to patrol this area. It's part of our training." He looks down at the ground. "No one supposed to be up here," he mutters barely audibly.
O'karn grunted and wrapped a hand around the boy's shoulder, "Do I look like I just fell off the wagon, shrimp?"
Dracos
The boy cringes in pain as O'karn applies pressure to his damaged frame. He looked up at the massive Ogre and swallowed hard before whining, "I don't know what you want me to say. We were scouting. They send a party out once an alar is sounded. It's usually just some kids or a townsperson. We follow them and if they stray to far from the cliff, we take actions. When we saw you... we attackedd."
"Alarm?" O'karn sniffs angrily. "What alarm? And your lies don't work well. Who you working for?"
The boy shivered. "There's... there's a spell *gulp* that alerts the outpost when someone climbs out of the valley." The boy grimaced in apparent pain. "I work for Morgan." He looked over to the person felled by Remdos.
"And Morgan works for?" O'karn frowned.
"Ely," he quivers. He stays silent for a moment. "Ely is captain of the observation branch," he hastily adds as he cringes.
"Observational branch? For what? You humans don't seem that organized at village. Where army? Where base?"
Dracos
"Village. We observe and monitor the village and the surrounding area. The three of us," he paused and looked at his fallen comrades. "We were just scouts," he added morosely.
O'karn frowned, "From where?!"
Dracos
The boy cringes and raises a shaky arm towards his fallen companion. "From over their. The entrance to the tunnels is that way." He speaks with a shaky voice and clattering teeth.
O'Karn smiles toothily, "And the tunnels lead right into your base? No traps? Because you wouldn't be holding out on such important information like how many of you scrawny humans are guarding it?" O'karn patted the boy's shoulder.
The boy fainted.
Remdos, who has been keeping quiet, figures now's as good a time as any to get his last arrow back. As there were more answers that could probably be extracted from the boy, he tries to kill two birds with one stone.
"Excuse me..." Remdos says to O'karn as he steps closer to the boy and yanks the arrow out hard from his shoulder, hoping the pain will wake him back up.
The boy lets out a ear piercing shriek before he slumped over panting.
O'karn smiles cruely, watching. Obviously nearby if the boy decides to be troublesome.
Dracos
Daggedal raises an eyebrow. "'ell, that 'ooked painful. Give 'im a minute to wake up before we make 'im, or 'ell just faint again," he says.
The three continue to hear the ragged breathing and soft moaning of the prisoner.
OOC: Okay, come on guys, someone has to play the seminice dude to my evil villian ^_^
IC:
O'karn grunts, "Weak human boy. Any of my kinsmen's children would be up in half this time."
Dracos
OOC: Isn't that what Rat is doing by giving him time to recover? Besides, why do you need a good cop? Instead of a good cop/bad cop routine, go for the bad cop/worse cop routine ^_^
IC:
Remdos shrugs as he wipes the blood off the arrow's shaft.
"He'll live, if you really want to keep questioning him, nothing's stopping you," he says as he puts the metal arrow away.
"We won't lose any more time waiting for him to wake up whenever he bloody faints than we are now."
Daggedal nods his agreement. "'sides, we may'swell wait for are scoots to com back," he says.
After sitting around and waiting for a while, Remdos and Daggedal spy three people appear in the distance over the plateau.
Daggedal squints, to get a better look at them to see if they're friend or foe.
Daggedal's squinty does little to improve his vision. But he does see three people, two females and one male. The male he can vaquely recognize as their scout, Devon. The females, he thinks he recognizes from when they first arrived and dinner, but the lack of familiarity he has with them could make this an instance of wishful recognition.
Daggedal keeps an eye on the figures, ready to cast some spell at them if they do anything they really shouldn't be doing.
Daggedal watches as they do nothing whatsoever.
Through all the non-action, one of the members from the other party begins walking in their direction. Daggedal makes her out to be female and as she approaches he recognizes her from before.
The others notice Daggedal's attention and in turn, notice Miaka walking towards them.
Miaka waves as she comes further, chirping, "Hello!" brightly.
"You back? Where did you go?" O'karn grunts suspiciously.
Dracos
"I kinda got kidnapped, but then they talked to me and let me go!" Miaka explains, still smiling.
O'karn blinks, "Kidnapped...but they let you go?" Looks about suspiciously, expecting a trap, "And you came right here?!"
Dracos
"If they be following her, they would have likely struck by now," says Daggedal, looking around, edgily.
"Actually, Mister Zaphiel just wanted us to talk to you," Miaka says, before continuing passionately, "It turns out that he is a good person trying to free everyone on this world from slavery! You shouldn't be trying to fight him and his five-hundred-large army of spellcasters!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...so how does that 'Charm Person' spell go again," mutters Daggedal, trying to detect if Miaka is in anyway enchanted or ensorcelled."
Arael shakes her head from her position slightly behind the priestess. That really, really hadn’t come out right.
“… Right. At any rate, you can thank Devon for leading us here.”
O'karn sniffed, not feeling comfortable with the line of events at all. Looking at Devon, he tried to make out whether devon seemed to be at all different then when he last saw the man.
Dracos
Devon and Miaka appear as remembered without any obvious signs of tampering.
"I cannae believe ye've believed whatever lies he's said," says Daggedal. "Nobody builds an army without intending to use it; don't tell me he's out to 'liberate' the people of this place, they all looked perfectly fine to me."
"You traveled through the town for a bit yesterday, haven't you?" Miaka asks, looking at Daggedal.
"A little," replies Daggedal, shrugging. "I saw nothing untoward.."
"The people were all very pretty and happy, right?" Miaka smiles. "I explored it quite a bit, because it was all so new and interesting!"
Daggedal shrugs. "I didn't really notice, though they were a tad cheerful," he replies.
"And young, right?" Miaka continues, her smile disappearing. "Did you see anyone over fourty? Anyone of the 'normal' townsfolk?"
Daggedal blinks. "Now that you mention it, no.
But then again, how many people live beyond forty anyway? At least where I come from, not many."
"Arkanel, and the rest of those blessed with the gift of magic don't seem to have this problem on this world," Miaka replies. "And on the past two worlds I've been to, people lived for many more years. Zaphiel told us that the same thing used to happen on this world as well, until a group of people enslaved the rest of humanity to use them as cattle. Even of those who can cast magic, most are brainwashed by that elite. Only in Zaphiel's case, they made a mistake...."
Daggedal pauses.
"So the world is ruled by a hidden magocracy, which controls the majority of wizards, sorcerers, warlocks, and magicians throughout the area. These spellslingers live much longer than the normal populance. However, Zaphiel has somehow escaped their influence, and is building a rebel army to strike down the magi and free the people?
So what happens to these 'normal people' when they reach the age of forty? They can't all just die, if what you say is true. What happens?"
"It's hidden, but in plain sight. Everyone can use magic, if trained... but the ability to cast magic has been blocked by ancient devices that elite controls. Blocked for anyone who doesn't have the right genes. That, in turn, makes them cattle and they are taken to the capital to have horrible things done to them." Miaka scowls, upset. "I'm sure Zaphiel could explain this in much better detail, if you'll be willing to listen to him."
"Certainly," replies Daggedal. "Run along and tell him to come out here, alone."
“Somehow, I don’t see that happening,” Arael says openly. “Would you if you were in his shoes?”
O'karn grunts, "You speak much. I don't hear much jingling. I care not if he build army to 'save' people. I paid to kill him. Unless...he pays more. Then maybe I consider."
Dracos
"Oh, he can do that too," Miaka says in a dismissive tone. "But helping everyone is enough for me! That, and food. Lots of tasty food." She smiles at the thought.
“He is offering substantial pay, and frankly speaking he seems more competent than our former employer.”
Daggedal pauses for a moment.
"Five Hundred spellcasters, you say. The fact that he hasn't killed us yet lends credence to your argument.
It occurs to me that whichever side we choose the serve will inevitably win, if he is trying to win us over. Arknael would not have summoned us unless he required help, and Zaphiel would not attempt to coerce us unless he either required help, or was a man of more moral character than I have yet to come across.
The latter being unlikely.. combined with the fact that we are still alive commits me to investigating for myself.
However. Understand that it cannot be discounted that this is a trap. Therefore... we will take a hostage," he continues, gesturing to the unconcious kid. "As a precaution."
"Oh, is he hurt?" Miaka asks. "Because I'm sure it won't be trouble at all to heal him at the castle!"
"Who cares?" replies Daggedal, shrugging.
O'karn grunts, "We go now."
Lifting the child with one hand he unceremonially slung the kid along his shoulders. "If trap, you both die."
Dracos
“Then let us hope it isn’t a trap,” Arael mutters, moving out of the ogre’s reach. She ponders the items granted to her companions and herself, but decides that, perhaps, now is not such a good time to mention them.
“Devon, lead the way back?”
Devon nods and heads beack towards the cliff.
ooc: until we find fig, I'll treat him and Merc as dumb NPC's.
Daggedal starts following, albeit with some unease. His suspicious eyes flicker everywhere, trying to spot a trap..
Miaka heads back as well, staying next to Arael.
O'karn follows, satisfied that Miaka is within strangle reach.
Dracos
The group reaches the cliff, looking at the beautifully setting sun, they realize that by the time they descend, it will be dusk or later.
“Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow to return. I’d rather not be traveling at night, all the same.”
"But there's something I need to do in the morning," Miaka protests, pouting. "I can't do it if I'm not there. Besides, wouldn't it be safer to sleep indoors?"
“While I’m certain you and I could make it back without a problem, I doubt the others can claim the same.”
"Well, they got up here okay, didn't they?" Miaka asks innocently. "It's even faster to get down!"
“Sure it is, if you think you can survive the jump.” Arael gestures to the ogre. “But if you’re carrying someone and not particularly resistant to gravity it will take a bit longer.”
"Then...." Miaka fishes for words. "Then you could carry that poor boy! I'll help, too!"
“That applies to use as well. Just getting Devon up here was a drain. I won’t even think about trying that with him,” Arael says, indicating O’Karn.
O'karn grunt suspiciously at Miaka, "What the hurry?"
Dracos
"They promised to show me something fun in the morning," Miaka replies, before repeating, "Besides, sleeping indoors is much, much better."
O'karn grunted suspiciously.
"We sleep here. Go there tomorrow."
Dracos
Miaka deflates. "Oh well. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to wait till the morning, then...."
Devon looked around to see if a suitable place to make camp was readily visible.
Devon noted that plateau didn't have much in the way of coverage. The slight hills and trees to the north of the cliff face were the only sights around, though nothing caught his eye as saying, "shelter."
Shrugging at the lack of shelter, Devon set about selecting an area of ground and making it suitable for a temporary campsite.
"Someone should go gather some firewood," Devon indicated the trees with a negligent wave.
The travelers decide on and make a camp. Taking turns keeping watch, they settle in with minimal conversation and get a sufficient amount of rest.
The next morning, they woke from their sleep amidst the bright dawning light. They quickly packed up their meager belongings, and set off back to the castle. Hauling themselves and their injured prisoner down the mountain, they trudged back towards the castle.
Devon was the first to notice something wrong. The sentries weren’t at their post upon the outer gate. O’karn and Daggedal, who were already suspicious, made disparaging remarks, even ready to threaten their comrades. Curiosity, and lack of ulterior options, overrode their common sense as the moved on. The outer courtyard was desolate. They circumspectly inspected the two houses from a distance. One stood with its door swaying open in the breeze, but no one stirred.
A hasty discussion resulted in ignoring the apparently abandoned house in favor of pressing forward, through the second set of gates and into the inner courtyard. The castle stood as the three who had previously visited, remembered, save the open gateway with heaps of belongings littering the entranceway.
After carefully edging forward, they found the remains of numerous bodies, charred beyond immediate recognition. Going forward, they made their way into the castle proper. The sights and smells of recent fighting assaulted their vision. Death surrounded them. The putrid odor of burning flesh and fresh blood overrode their sense.
They traveled through the castle, the main throne room, which Miaka had stood in awe of appeared to the last bastion of the defenders. There, upon the throne laid Zaphiel, fresh blood still dripping from his breast. The centerpiece of the throne protruded from him.
The travels stared at the grotesque scene. Noticing belatedly, the jeweled diamond wedged in Zaphiel’s mouth. Looking around the dead guards that seemed to form a ineffective, protective ring, the three return guests notice a face or two that is familiar, but no one that they remember by name.
"What in the name of the Goddess happened here?" Arael breaths.
Daggedal snorts. "Someone raided the castle during the night, obviously. Wonderful.. seems that Orkanel didn't need us after all.
I wonder if they have any spellbooks in the library.. or maybe this guy has some magic on him."
He extends his magical senses to locate any such items, and discern their purpose..
Devon examines the area to see if he can determine approximately how long ago the battle was fought.
"Mmm... Let's go loot. Then have scrawny human mage send us back. After all, job is done."
Dracos
Daggedal noticed undefined magics coming from the throne and the diamond.
Devon determined that the battle was waged reletively recently, from the state of the blood around the room: Approximately six to eight hours.
"Our big friend may have the right of it," Devon sighed. "There is little point fighting a battle that appears to already have been lost."
"This," Devon indicated the bodies with a wave, "took place somewhere around midnight. But there's no guarantee that the perpetrators have all departed. Be on your guard if you want to loot." Devon gazed at the carnage before shaking his head sadly, "I'm going to go see if there's anyone left alive."
Daggedal eyes the Diamond and the throne. "Perhaps I can commune with his dead spirit. It should not have yet departed to the nether realm."
With a few choice words and incantations, he tries to do just that..
Miaka, still in shock after seeing all the carnage, nods dumbly as she waits for Daggedal to try his plan.
O'karn grunted in agreement. "Any trouble, just scream. I go hunting."
O'karn started looking around the castle for easy to carry valuable items.
Dracos
As Daggedal chants, those around notice a soft nimbus appear around the body of the dead man. A separation is achieved from the corpse, it appears to keep its shape, moving until a translucent figure stands before the chanting man.
Daggedal's experience with dead allowed him to avoid the fear that lessor might have being in the presence before him.
"Why have you called me from my rest," a deep voice intones.
"To know what attacked your castle," replies Daggedal. "And what your intentions towards us were before we arrived."
"I was attacked by my people. Those I sought to seperate myself from. We were betrayed by one of our own, whom rmoved the crystal which protected us and would warn us of attack. My intentions towards you were to get you to help in that seperation, through trickery or friendship. I would ask for your help anyway. To save place the crystal upon the dias and remove my daughter from the prison which I placed her for her safety."
"Who betrayed you?" asks Daggedal.
The figure shimmered before stabilizing again. "Someone of no consequence. He was a guard, who came as a trainie from the continent. I should have been more careful." He bowed his head slightly.
"Why did he not take the crystal from the palace?" asks Daggedal.
'It's power is linked to this place, and this place has little value to them. Desecrated it, and me, is more important to his mind."
O'karn discounted anything in the room of value. He stalked out into the great hall, a stairwell leading up, the entraceway, and three sets of doors to either side.
O'karn pondered most ponderously and with a ponderous gait headed up the stairs pondering treasure most pleasing.
Dracos
OOC: I tried, I really did, but I don't think I could've fit another ponder in there.
O’karn walked up the staircase, pondering the reduced carnage he surveyed as he climbed. A large glass door presented itself to him. Pondering the waterfall that fell from the cliff, into the pool below, he pondered pondering where the water would flow to, but decided pondering wouldn’t answer the question he never really wanted to ponder in the first place.
Looking out, he saw a plethora of bodies littering one side of the pond he had decided not to ponder and witnessed a few men move ponderously down a path in the ground, carrying chests and bags towards the mountain, and out of view.
ooc: ponder this!
O'karn pondered but a moment, for pondering was not truly his way, and lacking any more ponderings, he leapt after them after lowering his skullmask. For he was an ogre of action, blade in hand as he chased them men with a mighty warcry, lashing down at the first one with his blade.
Dracos
O’karn’s leap found him in almost the identical spot were Devon landed. The un-commenting dirt path pondered the difference in pressure it was forced to endure between the two events.
Ignoring the imprint he made, the Ogre rushed forward, dropping down the stairs into the passageway the men he had seen disappear into.
His mighty shout did not go unnoticed and the four men were made aware of his approach. Unfortunately for them, they had not pondered correctly, and they stood unaware that the cry of battle was actually a mortal threat. The speed in which the large humanoid appeared was impressive and added to their surprise.
O’karn felt enclosed in the passageway, which was clearly designed to hand more than a single human, but not really made for an Ogre. He was heedless of this fact as he pondered the chest the two closest men were lugging. A small smirk of satisfaction sated his bloodlust like a minnow would fill a whale when the closest man let out an inarticulate gasp as his head sailed across the room into one of his companions, blood spraying everywhere.
If he was more than an Ogre, and could ponder the facets of life and battle, his podering would result in the realization that a time for pondering was done.
OOC: Can I kill by ponderings?
IC:
O'karn pondered the ever so sweet scent of blood as the crimson spray spewed forth from the severed neck of the scrawny human before him. Ah, this was the life! His long tongue lashed out licking the front of his skull mask as he looked briefly over the remaining humans, pondering who would be next. With a swift gesture he decided, his sword moving at one on his left, while his other black gauntleted hand lashed out grabbing for the skull of another, his barbaric strength seeking to crush the foolish human's brains and prevent any further ponderings as to it's fate.
Dracos
"So where's this dias?" says Daggedal. "And what'll happen when I place the crystal on it, exactly?"
The spectre turns to regard the throne. "There is a place for the diamond atop the throne. Returning the jewel to its resting place will release the spell that holds my daughter. It will also return defensiive and utility functions to the castle."
When he finished speaking, a faint yell could be heard, a sound that sounded suspisciously like O'karn.
O'karn's mighty blade slid through another hapless victim as he grabbed for a third. The man was not as stupid as to be caught that easily, and much to the Ogre's annoyance, he managed to contort himself away from the harbringer of blood.
A step behind his partner, his assigned task forgotten, the puny servant man ran for his life.
"What's the name of your daughter?" asks Daggedal.
"Lafiel," he says quietly. "I secured her from immediate harm, using the power of this place. I fear her actions were she to be released, but hopefully, your presence will increase her chance of survival. Will you release her? I doubt that a mere shade could offer anything to ask that you attempt to protect her, but ask I shall. Will you protect my most precious daughter?"
"Mebbe," replies Daggedal. "We'll see."
He reaches out and plucks the diamond out from the corpses mouth..
The diamond comes out with an audible slurp....
Daggedal wipes off the blood, the plants the diamond in the dias..
A shiver courses Daggedal's body as the dimaond is placed upon the dias. A few moments pass before an ear shattering shriek is heard.
"Father!!"
The inhabitants of the room turn to see Lafiel scrambling to her feet, kicking away from another man as she rushes to the throne. She drops to her knees as her body shudders in grief. An inaudible mumbling is heard coming from her as she draps herself over the dead body.
Belatedly, Daggedal notices the shade is no longer present.
Maybe the ones who suffered the most from a war weren't the dead, but the ones left living afterwards.
Still, it didn't affect Daggedal overmuch, as he plucked and pocketed the diamond for himself..
Arael looks at Daggedal in disgust as he pockets the diamond.
Her eyes soften a bit when her gaze turns toward the drying girl. Not exactly sure what to do now and feeling more than a bit lost Arael looks around the room.
"What now?"
Areal sees the room is basically unchanged. The man that appeared with Lafiel is stnading in the corner, unmoving, a look of extreme sadness upon his face.
Hearing the yell, Devon drew his sword before pausing as he watched Daggedal release Lafiel.
Seeing that Lafiel wasn't likely to be able to answer questions for a while, he bounded up the stairs after O'karn.
Devon made his way to the balcony he had been on 24 hours earlier. He noticed the bodies littering the walkway and stairs leading downwards.
The waterfall was as it had been earlier, but he sees no sign of O'karn.
Arael approaches the man carefully, on the look out for a magical attack more than a physical one.
"Whao are you?"
Arael sees the man blink, his eyes not moving from the scene on the throne.
"Rin," he responds in a hoarse whisper.
Remdos shakes his head, annoyed at how so much had gone wrong so fast. His quest in a new world somehow looked more like a dream now. While he still holds hope he'd find a solution to his problem before returning to his world, or worse, dying, he begins to also realize he needs to be more proactive to have a hope of getting his way.
Not wanting to deal with the distraught girl though, and having nobody better to try to figure out their new situation, Remdos walks up to the guy the girl Lafiel had been with, to strike up conversation.
Daggedal turns to the man. "How long have you been with Lafiel?"
The man shakes his head, looking at the three people gathered around him as if seeing them for the first time.
"I've known her since she was a child. If that's what you mean."
"No, how long have you been in hiding? Do you need healing?" replies Daggedal.
"Oh. No." His continues to glance furtively back and forth between Daggedal and Lafiel. "It only felt like a few moments. Something to do with the magic of the spell."
Miaka snaps out of her shock, and rushes over to Lafiel, settling over to brush the other girl's hair as she cries.
"Are you her bodyguard?" questions Daggedal.
Rin stays quiet for a moment before responding. "No... Not really. Zaphiel asked me to be prepared for this possibility. Well, not exactly like this, but if something like this were to happen. I was to be second in command of the raiding party we were sending in.." He stops speaking and begins to look around.
"Have you found anyone who survived?"
Lafiel's sobs begin to lesson, though she shows no sign of recognizing Miaka's touch.
"We havn't found anyone," replies Daggedal. "But he havn't finished looking everywhere yet."
Rin nods and walks up towards Lafiel. Placing a hand on her shoulder. Her reaction is instantanious. Standing quickly, she spins in a tight circle, sending a fist crashing into the man's face.
"Bastard!' she cries.
Rin is rocked back and stumbles to the ground before getting up, rubbing his cheek.
O'karn roared, fingering a dagger from it's sheath and sending it after the further one, his long strides racking after the nearer one as he brought his gauntleted hand down upon his shoulder in a stunning blow.
Dracos
Trying to kill one and incapacitate the other.
"Lafiel!" Miaka calls out. "Hitting him won't help, will it?"
"Unless she knows something about him we don't," replies Daggedal, eyeing the man.
Lafiel turned away from Rin. "I don't konw what you thought ou were doing. You and my father can't decide my fate."
"I'm going to get ready. I'll be proceeded as *I* see fit. If you wish to join me... I'll be at the balcony in 20 minutes."
She strides from the room, while Rin watches her with his head hung low.
Daggedal snorts.
"And just how do you intend to proceed?"
O'karns dagger flew straight, biting deeply into the shoulder of the lead runner. He misses a stride, but continues running.
The Ogre's fist comes down on the other mans forehead, soundless bonelessly, crumpling him to the ground.
Lafiel stops at the door. Without turning, she says, "Disabling their power source, then destroying their ability to enter this continent at all." She continues out the door.
"That's a goal, not a plan," notes Daggedal, rolling his eyes.
Rin gives a deep sigh. "The plan was to scout around the tunnels. So we could devise a plan. If Zaphiel had hidden, they would have never given up in their searching. Zaphiel knew this. He... we thought that if it came to a seige, and this was the outcome, they would continue in thier previous lack of dilligence. She knows this, and hopefully she'll calm down and think rationally."
Devon leaps down onto the walkway below and examines the bodies.
EDIT: Changed tense.
Devon's initial inspection, revealing that bodies laced with many tears. He doesn't get far when he hears the clattering of a sword coming from down the stairs. A quick look reveals the stairs lead to a hallway.
Devon runs towards the sounds of battle.
Easily descending the steps, Devon notices immediately the massive O'karn a short distance away. Three bodies at his feet, while another can be seen fleeing down the corridor, away from the castle.
Swiftly drawing his pistol, Devon takes aim past O'karn at the fleeing man and fires.
"Hope isn't much of a plan, either," remarks Daggedal. "I'll give her ten minutes before I go out there and drag her back, kicking and screaming. If she's serious about taking on.. well, for heavens sake, I barely know who we're taking on, except that there are more of them than us, they control basically the entire populance, and they're probably more personally powerful than us, too.
This ain't turning out to be a good day."
"All I received was a punch for tackling her," Rin replied ruefully. "She went to her room. I'm sure she's when done collecting she be at the balcony..." He pauses.
"I'm sorry. I realize I must be confusing or slightly incoherent. Let's move to the balcony and wait the princess' return and I'll try to answer any questions. I don't... can't really expect much from you, but I'm forced to offer her any aid, even silly and assinine that I can."
Devon wathces as his aim is true, the man running away flops forward on his face.
O'karn hears an whirl behind him and notices a thin beam streak past him, striking the fleeing man in the small of his back and sending him to the ground.
"Princess?" Miaka asks Rin, confused.
Rin looks shamefaced. "Sorry. Lafiel. She isn't really a princess, except for the way her father treated her."
"Ah," Miaka responds intelligently. "I just... I don't see how this could happen. Zaphiel had so many soldiers, and the magic users...." She shakes her head.
"Magic is only as useful as the distance between you and your enemy," notes Daggedal. "That aside, I'm sure that the invaders had the element of surprise. You can't cast a spell with a knife in your back."
Rin clears his throat. "The main aspect of the jewel that was pocketed had was in providing a magical barrier against outside forces. Once it was removed, teleporting, and sending in magical attacks was made possible. I assume that the bulk of the troops in the barracks were killed without warning. As it is, Zaphiel had enacted certain warnings for intruders, which gave those of us stationed in the castle some time to act, but not nearly enough."
"Cleary. This was done very professionally," notes Daggedal. "Any idea who might have lead the attack in particular?"
Stowing his pistol, Devon looks at the bodies laying about, trying to determine if any of them are still alive.
EDIT: Damned tenses. >_<
Rin sighs. "That would require more information than we currently have."
Devon walks up to and examines the four motionless bodies. He quickly determines that the one O'karn hit over the head is still breathing, if faintly and erratically.
"We have no information," notes Daggedal, sighing. "I'm going to find the ogre. I doubt he'll care enough to come, though, unless you have stocks of money previous unknown."
Rin quirks his head. "The treasury is downstairs. It belongs to Lafiel now," he says while shifting his gaze towards the form still impaled upon the throne.
"I'm going to wait for Lafiel. I'll be on the balcony right up the stairs if you have need of me." So saying, he walks from the room.
O'karn grinned, checking to make sure no one was getting up besides Devon and cleaning and retrieving his blades swiftly. "It appears someone wanted to make off with the treasure. Is that human alive?"
Dracos
"Yes," Devon replies while searching the unconcious man. "Though, from the look of him, he won't be waking up for awhile."
Devon's search reveals a small-dulled blade, barely adequate for cutting fruit with, poor fitting and worn clothing, and a small bag containing a few small bronze coins.
"Good, he can be a guide. Let's take these downstairs and hunt to see if there are any others."
O'karn easily lifts a couple of the chests, hauling back towards the main room.
Dracos
Pocketing the coins and knife, Devon slings the unconcious man over his shoulder and picks up a chest before following O'karn.
Devon and O'karn head back the way they came. The stairs leading up to the rear courtyard are visible as well as another door, that presumably would enter the castle, it's currently open. There was also another door, on the surface, directly above the one that is open.
ooc: unless you plan to climb the balcony again, or walk around the front, I need to know how you're getting back to the place you came from.
edit more ooc: There's the tunnel you're currently in. One direction leads to where the porters were headed, the other leads to an open door about where the castle is located. There's also a small set of stairs leading into the courtyard you jumped down into. There was a door there that you ran by, and the balcony you jumped from.
Walking up the stairs, the pair wades through the dead bodies. Walking through the door they open, Devon recognizes the hallway they enter from his earlier excursions. Taking the lead, he navigtes the basement tunnels up a set of stairs into another hallway. Taking a second to check, he walks down to the doorway at the end, leading to the grand hallway. Turning towards the throne room, they see a slender man walk out of it. He stops and looks at them and says, "Oh. You must be the other two Lafiel mentioned."
O'karn blinks and gruffly responds, "Who are you?"
Dracos
Rin frowns, as his eyes take in the sight of the two. "I'm Lafiel's protector. We escaped the invaders and have been talking to your comrades inside. Lafiel went to get ready to sneak into their base, and I go to meet her. I don't know what your allies plan, but they're still in the room behind me."
O'karn grunted and walked past the fellow into the room dumping the chests and looking who else had joined the group while he was looting.
Dracos
O'karn notes that the room is as he left it, with all his comrades there and no additions.
"Well, what are we going to do?" says Daggedal, to everyone. "We can either help her or run off somewhere and eke out lives for ourselves here, given that I don't think Arkanel is about to send us back now."
"Eh? What's going on with some of them still being alive?" O'karn plops down the treasure, grunting in displeasure and thumbing back clearly referencing the guy who had been coming out of there.
Dracos
Following O'karn into the room, Devon sets down the chest and dumps the man unceremoniously onto the floor.
"I say we help her. S'gotta better than being stuck here," Remdos replies to Daggedal's question. "I doubt we'd be allowed to just live in peace if we wanted to anyhow. Double crossers tend to like to wrap loose ends, and that's us for Arkanel."
"Arkanel isn't your typical double-crosser," notes Daggedal. "He must be particularly stupid to summon us up, then do all the dirty work himself.
Or he could have some incredibly clever plan in wait for us, which isn't what I want to run into at all."
"No bloody doubts about his typicalness," Remdos agrees. "But I doubt he has some fiendish plot waiting for us. If anything, I think we were just a distraction for our would-be target while he attacked in force. Now those forces will be hunting for us."
"Or it could all be the work of someone else," Miaka says, approaching them. "We know there are more strong magic users in this land except for Arkanel and Zaphiel. Maybe Arkanel was himself a distraction against Zaphiel as well."
OOC: You all get the oblivious conversationalists award o_O;;;
IC:
O'karn, quite annoyed at not getting an answer, idly hauls the nearest chatty person up by their shirt and demands, in the "I won't kill you if you answer quickly" tone, "What's going on with the living people who aren't dead or one of us?"
Dracos
"Put him down," says Daggedal. "What do you think? They're survivors," he says. "I highly doubt they're enemy agents, unless somebody is playing a very cagey game."
"Yes...but how did they survive?" O'karn grunts, wanting information. "They just hid and the army that wiped out everything didn't touch them?"
Dracos
"That about sums it up," replies Daggedal. "They used some kind of sealing magic."
O'karn grumbles, not really satisfied with the answer as he put down one of the chatty brats. "Found some others snooping around for treasure. One remains. You find out what he knows." O'karn points back to the body and then turns, "Don't mess with the stuff before I get back."
O'karn goes and takes one of the other paths, looking around the castle for any more hanger-ons that look suspiciously killable.
Dracos
"Try and avoid killing them," calls Daggedal. "We can always kill them, but we can only interrogate them while they're alive."
Kneeling next to the unconcious man, Devon tries to determine when he might be waking up.
Devon has no idea how long the prisoner will be out. Lifting his eyelids, he can see them unfocused and dialated.
"Well, this one could be waking up in the next few minutes, or next week. I don't know," Devon shrugged as he stood.
ooc: *gleefully accepts the award from drac* btw, is it my imagination or has O'karn become more...well spoken? ^_^;
ic:
"Pain is a rather good way to hasten consciousness at times. Have you tried stepping on him or slapping his face around?" Remdos offers.
Pulling out a couple of short lengths of cord, Devon kneels down next to the unconcious man and binds his hands behind him and his legs together.
Striding out the room, O’karn searches the castle for other inhabitants, things of interest, meaning killable, or pretty treasures. He begins in the basement, finding an torture chamber that hasn’t been used in quite a while, a jail cell, the sewer system, a door leading outside into the tunnel that reeks of death, a large armory, and what appeared to be the treasury.
The jail, torture chamber, and sewage room fail to contain anything of real interest to O’karn. The armory is well stocked, but stocked for puny humans. The treasury appears almost bare, a few coins and gems are scattered around, and a few cages and chests seem to have been forced open.
O'karn grunts and returns to the main chamber, "So what have scrawny humans discovered from weakling scrawny human?"
Dracos
"Nothing yet, we were just about to wake him up," Devon shrugs as he double checks the bindings.
Satisfied with his handywork, Devon sets about slapping the prisoner awake. "Wake up!"
O'karn lowers his mask and stands nearby looking mean.
Dracos
The man's eyes flit open. He coughs, and blood can be seen to fleck from his mouth, before his head lolls backwards, bonelessly.
"Bah, stupid fragile humans."
Dracos
Daggedal wanders over to the man. Pulling energy from one of the dead bodies in the room, he forces a healing spell down the mans throat..
Daggedal's attempt proves somewhat useful as color returns to the man's face and he begins to breath again.
"Who are you?" asks Daggedal, bluntly.
The man blinks a couple times before stammering out, "Wesley."
The ogre grunted, "Who do you work for scrawny human?"
Dracos
OOC: I really bloody should not be the one doing the interrogation but I'd prefer this not to last six months.
"I ahh, work for the great wizard, Fezik," the tiny timid human responded.
"Who the hell is Fezik?" replies Daggedal.
The man's eyes light up as color returns to his cheeks. "Fezik is a master conjururer and illusionists. He says if I serve him well he'll teach me all he knows. It's a huge break, getting an apprenticeship with him. My parents coupdn't believe it. They all thought I'd amount to nothing. But with this, I could surpass my pops, and his stupid functionary job."
edit: sorry, man not boy.
"And what the hell did he want with this castle?" replies Daggedal. "Did he send in his troops, and you with them?"
The man looks curiously at Daggedal. "The master woke me and told me to come move some stuff to his chambers. I heard some of the others in his house talking about some battle, but that's beyond me at the time."
"Note the corpses lying around the room. And all over the castle," replies Daggedal, dryly.
"What stuff, anyway? What's it for?"
"Those things you took," he pointed at the droppings from earlier. "The master wanted the jewels and weapons. I assume it's for his research and stuff." He replied impatiently.
Daggedal smacks the kid across the face. "Don't talk like that to me," he says, warningly. "I don't like your tone.
As for this gear, we'll be taking it," he continues.
His hands fly to his face as he looks ready to cry. "The master won't like that," he says shakily.
"You think these people liked being murdered just so some arrogant bastard of a wizard could take their stuff?" asks Daggedal, raising an eyebrow.
"The masters will, is his will. Of course they would welcome death in compliance." He looked confused when speaking.
"Your master told you to come here," Devon frowned at the boy, "Did he provide transportation?"
The man looks befuddled for a second, before his eye shine brightly. "You must mean the portal. Master set it up so we didn't have to walk so far. It goes right into his storage room!"
O'karn grumbled, "Spineless stupid humans."
He headed away from the obviously retarded lad and leaned against the wall until the others were done.
Dracos
"The other side of the portal goes to your Master's storage room," Devon continued, "Where is this side of the portal?"
He seemed to think for a moment as he looked around. "It was in a room after a hallway. We were headed there when the giant hit me."
O'karn shrugs, "Let's check out this scranwy human's portal.""
Dracos
Nodding at O'karn's suggestion, Devon starts to untie the cords around the boy's legs as he states in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You will lead us to the portal."
The young man nods... happily the others decide as his bonds are released. He takes a fatering step forward before stopping. "Ah, sir. Where is the hallway you found me in?"
"This way," Devon grips the boy's arm firmly as he leads him through the castle to the hallway.
O'karn leads the rest of the party, lowering his mask as they walked down to the corridor with the portal.
Dracos
Curiosity getting the best of him, Remdos follows the giant O'karn towards the portal. 'Well, here's hoping there's something useful to get out of this mess with this...' he thinks.
Having arrived at the hallway O'karn viciously attacked the portars at, the young man begins to lead the troops down the corridor. They reach a turn in the hallway.
Devon is the first to witness two men stepping out of an open doorway.
Reacting swiftly, Devon used his free hand to draw his pistol and shoot at the man closest to the open door.
Devon's quick action took one of the men by surprise, a shot to the shoulder that dropped him instantly. The other, seemed to start mumbling something.
Daggedal raises his hand and sends a chill blast of necromantic energy at the man, eschewing the need for hand-waving and word-mumbling.
O'karn reaches an arm leisurely out and grabs the man by the head, lifting him off his feet, "Give up scrawny human or I remove your left lung."
Dracos
Daggedal's blast fires towards the standing guard while a searing light enfuses the room, blinding everyone.
A grunt is heard in the distance followed by a loud thump centered around our adventurers.
O'karn misses his attempt at the scrawny human.
THe entire party blinks, and the only one who discovers sight is Devon.
Blinking away the aftereffects of the searing light, Devon shifts his aim, looking for the second man.
Devon looks up to see the man who cast the spell run through the door while the man he shot is slowly getting to his feet.
The rest of the party is still blind.
O'karn roars in annoyance at this puny magic.
Dracos
Running towards the door, Devon shoots the rising man again before looking for a clear shot at the man inside.
Devon's shot is off target as it slices past the rising man. Gaining the doorway, he sees a medium sized room, carved out of the mountain. Two other closed doors are visible, both closed, with nothing else in the room, except for the pulsing triangular symbol located in the center.
O'karn and Miaka both regain their sight, while Daggedal and the archer continue looking upon a light filled void.
Daggedal waves his hand in an effort to dispel the magic that has blinded him, ready to blast whoever is still around with a pulse of necromantic magic.
OOC: BARBARIAN OGRES!
O'karn roared, running past the rising man and slapping him back down with a backhanded blow as he charged after the man who'd dared blind him!
Dracos
sometimes uncautious actions are fun! and can we get this game moving again?
As sight returns to the sightless the man who was shot is floored by the Ogre.
O'kran rushes into the room, behind Devon, and witness a singularrly uniteresting room. Two other closed doors are visible, with nothing else in the room, except for the pulsing triangular symbol located in the center.
OOC: O'KRAM?!
IC:
"Mage trickery!" O'karn sniffed, distrustful as he looked about.
Dracos
Moving around the triangular symbol, Devon walks quickly to the left-most door and opens it, ready to shoot should there be anyone on the other side.
Devon sees a long dimly lit hallway. Glow stones adorn the walls and he can't see the end in sight.
Closing the door, Devon strides quickly around the triangle to the other door and opens it, ready to shoot anyone who may be on the other side.
Devon witnesses an almost identical hallway, though this one has a door at the other end, a good fifty yards away.
Remdos grumbles, his eyesight still showing spots from when he was blinded, as he pulls an arrow from his back to carry at the ready so he's not caught as unprepared again, and moves towards the door the others went through.
As Remdos approaches the door, he can see the other soldier groaning on the ground.
A loud rumble comes from the room, which he identifies as the ogre complaining. Peerin in, he can see Devon moving around the center, which has something glowing on it.
Daggedal keeps to the rear, analysing the magical patterns.
Closing the door, Devon turns to the others, "The other one didn't escape through either of these doors."
O'karn frowned, "Then where did he go?"
Dracos
Which way did he go george, which way did he go?
Daggedal's look at the glowing triangle noticed that they were magical in nature. Though they seemed currently innert.
Daggedal tries to discern the purpose of the triangle.
The second guard, while being effectively ignored, suprises the group by body checking Devon and scrambling towards the center of the room.
O'karn, restless and angry, roughly spins about, launching a kick into the man's side from his plated foot.
Dracos
The man tries to dodge out of the way, but misses. O'karn's kick send him flying into the wall, where he drops to the ground.
O'karn turns to the man, "Where'd your friend go? Tell me now and I will not remove your spine by way of your mouth puny human."
Dracos
The man moves to a sitting position as one arm goes to stem the bleeding. He regards the Ogre blankly. "He went to get help."
"How? And where?"
Dracos
The man slowly stands. "The castle. Through the portal." He pointed at the image on the ground when speaking.
"I think you'd best be sitting down again," Devon says in a low voice as he points his pistol at the man.
The man looked ruefully at the pistol and slid down the wall. He bowed his head submissively when seated.
"What is that?" O'karn glanced curiously at the odd contraption. "And human, who's castle and how many scrawny humans are through it and how does this blasted thing work?"
Dracos
"It's a base. The castle is my masters. There lots of puny humans. It works by magic. You can use it by stepping in the middle." He answered quickly.
"This is a weapon," Devon says in an aside to O'karn before focusing on the man again. "Describe the room on the other end of this portal."
The man groaned quietly in pain. "The other end is a courtyard on the castle grounds near the barracks."
O'karn lifts the soon-to-be-dead man up none too gently by the throat, "We check out now or smash portal. I don't want human rats slitting my throat while I sleep. This man be our shield. Any disagreements?" O'karn snorted.
Dracos
The capture soldier grunts in obvious pain as his legs dangle free.
"None here," Devon says while making sure that his sword is free of obstruction to allow for a rapid draw and that the extra power packs for his pistol are readily available.
O'karn steps into the portal, deadman first.
Dracos
Daggedal hurries to the portal, using a quick divination to make sure it's safe to go through before progressing.
Devon cautiously follows O'karn, pistol at the ready.
The others watched as O’karn disappeared soundlessly. Waiting a moment, Daggedal follows after, then Devon. Watching as the others leave, Remdos quickly follows, not really knowing what else to do.
Miaka begins to stride forward, but entering is not something she has decided upon, yet.
The world flashes white to all. O’karn finds himself in an open space. He doesn’t have time to admire the view as the undeniable sound of steel being drawn draws his attention to the men running at him.
O'karn grins the ever-wide grin of the eternally bloodthirsty, his hand lashed out, flinging the body in it hard in the direction of the noise of steel. Fluidly, he stepped forward, grabbing his real sword and drawing it forth, preparing to do a sweeping strike to push back any fools who dare charge him while he oriented himself about the room.
Dracos
More desc please ^^
O’karn moves to meet the first wave of attackers. Six columns of men were running in loose formation towards him. The depths of the columns could not so easily be ascertained. The periphery of his vision could tell that the yard was wide and bordered by rows of bushes that might be as tall as his knees. Marble buildings in the distance, over the hedges, but one large, and close building was visible front and center behind the mass of men aligned against him. A stolen glance informed him of a single man standing upon the balcony, dressed in robes, standing next to another in a uniform similar to the one the dead men in front of him wore. He barely noticed the sun shining brightly upon him, nor the heat of the day.
The helpless body he flings forward does a nice job of impeding three lines in the column that approached him, giving him ample range to inhibit the movements of the other side of the broken contingent of men. While two of the attackers were smart and nimble enough to avoid the first sweep, the howls of the two that had charged blindly forward filled the air.
As O’karn was pushing back the first wave of attackers, Daggedal appeared on the place that Ogre had just vacated. He was treated to the sights and sound of battle raging in front of him.
O'karn, skull mask lowered, roars in glee, slowly and surely, moving forward, his swiftly moving sword a lawnmower of death as he utilizes his skills to slice through as many of the troops with each blow as he can, keeping focused on not letting any of the little rats get within his rather sizable radius of doom.
Dracos
Daggedal glances around the area, and looks up at the robed man.
Surmizing that he may be another wizard, Daggedal starts to draw as much power from the corpses left in the wake of the ogre as he can, then suddenly, with a short incantation and a single gesture, let's loose a powerful blast of necromantic energy at the man!
O'karn's great sword swings twice more, cutting down those that venture too close. He notices at the end of the second swing, a change. Those seven unlucky soles that lay down, dead or in agony, will be the last to perish that way. The other solders had stopped the direct charge, and began to encircle the two. A quick count told the ogre he faced a good fifty men still standing.
Daggedal, second on the scene, glances and notices little more than the great ogre. The well manicured lawn he found himself on offered little knowledge. As he culled the energy from the fallen and cast a bolt of pure power towards the balcony, another twin set of blast raced towards the two comrades. A quick look told both that the blasts would meet over the heads of their foes.
O'karn paused for but a moment, his skull mask down as he let out a raging ogre battle cry, letting his powerful lungs speak for him and chill the spines of his fledgling enemies. Following he charged brutally towards whatever seemed to be the least stable part of the attempted circle, his blade lashing deeply into the grounds, giving them no choice but to break their order or be cut down from being too close to manuever.
Dracos
Daggedal starts gesturing madly, binding the fleeting souls of the dead to their inert bodies and reanimating their corpses, sending the fallen straight back into battle, but against their former comrades.
As the bone chilling sound pierces the air, the necromancer bolt hits one of the oncoming two bolts of power over the soldiers creating an explosion in the air. The other molten ball of power heads on, unabated towards the spot O'karn had stood.
The ogre moved towards his left, slashing forward over the soldiers he had taken down earlier. Three more soldiers fell to his great blade as he blunts the attempt at encirclement. Another swing takes down four more before they begin to give the beast of a man space.
A group of soldiers break from the others, collapsing the other side of the circle as they head towards Daggedal.
As some of the fallen begin to rise, the bolt of power lands, blasting those not yet dead into oblivion, and destroying the carcasses that had begun to rise to the call of the necromancer. The soldiers that had begun to advance upon Daggedal shied back, as did the necromancer himself, losing his feet and landing on his backside.
The Ogre felt a warm draft coming from behind him, as he was pelted by body parts.
Looking up, Daggedal sees Devon appear where he stood moments before.
Devon, appears, soldiers in front of him, with an Ogre carving a hole through a wing of them.
Daggedal continues gesturing frantically, summoning up random blasts of necromantic energy to fly at the soldiers coming towards him and overloading the spiritual energy within other corpses, causing them to explode.
O'karn didn't slow, breaking into a full fledged charge, blade swinging and hacking as he moved away from the heat and into the warm fleshy ribbons of cleaved flesh.
Dracos
Taking in the carnage before him, Devon moves to his left and begins firing as rapidly as possible at the soldiers approaching.
The soldiers, reaaling from the explosion are further befuddled by the fire of science and death, as Daggedal and Devon combine on the front troops. Four drop in rapid succession before the soldiers redirect their efforts and start running at the two.
Remdos, the lucky man he was, materialized as soldiers began streaming past him, one stopping a leveling a sword stroke at his torso.
O'karn, moving further from his compatriots, continued his carnage, as no soldiers could stand up to him. An shrill wistle was blown and those who had previously been imitating wheat, dove out of the way, as an explosion ripped the ground beneath his feat, sending the huge humanoid five feet into the air, along with a few corpses and soldiers who couldn't get clear.
----
ooc: Summary - 29 down 27 left(29 in courtyard, two on balcony)
Dashing to his left away from the soldiers, Devon shifts his aim to the man in robes on the balcony and continues firing.
O'karn roars as he comes down grunting in slight pain and annoyance at the blast. "Cowardly mages..."
Turning as swiftly as he can, he plowed swiftly, keeping moving erratically following the troops, his blade continuing to flash as he cleaned up the fodder. "There is no escape fools."
Dracos
Though surprised at his first sight upon materializing, Remdos' hand loosens on the arrow even as he tries to twist the bow to deflect the sword strike, despite the loss of control on the arrow as it leaves the bow.
Should the arrow miss because of twisting the bow to defend himself, Remdos will attempt to kick the man away and grasp for his dagger.
O'karn lands, and begins a new assault. Two dazed soldiers near him fall quickly, before a blast of fire hits the Ogre square in the chest, the blast blinding him for a second as it stos his forward momentum.
Daggedal clasps his hands together and focuses, absorbing the large amounts of spirit energy being generated by the dead.
A black aura starts to be generated around him, so dark and cold it looks as if all light and life has been snuffed out. Electric tendrils leap from it towards the enemy soldiers and his allies alike, weakening the former while increasing the strength, speed, and perception of the latter.
O'karn roared, depending on his mass to keep his footing as he spotted the neophyte mages before him. Charging past any guards with swift smashing strides, he swiftly sought to scattered them, striking more for speed then for power, though with his blade, who could really tell the difference? His main goal was to keep them from casting any more spells while painting the area red with their blood.
Dracos
The soldier's swing was deflected as Remdos' shot erupted into the soldiers shoulder, eliciting a powerful scream of anguish and anger. Another soldier forms ranks with his wounded comrade and both strike at the bow wielding infidel.
Devon's shots carry towards the two on the balcony. The man raises a hand and the first shot is deflected wide, the next three pass the man with enough margin for safety.
Daggedal's little concoction get's off with out much trouble, as his allies feel like they've just taken an adreneline hit.
Unfortunately, with their attention diverted, Devon and Daggedal have allowed the soldiers to reach their position, as two sets of blades travel for their hides.
The group feels the ground start to rumble, like a very weak earthquake.
O'karn flashes his sword, traveling at the impudent wretch that attacked him. Taking down four men in rapid succession, he is surprised by a sword bite into his flank, and another explosion rocks his side.
O'karn swung his blade hard in an arc around him, forciably driving back his opponents or slashing them to bits by the strength and length of his attack. As soon as he gets a half seconds breathing room from that he glances about for cover and for any of the remaining annoying mages to eliminate them. Basically anywhere outside of this field where he's easily just getting sniped at. Preferrably a place where he can still fight cleanly but doesn't have to deal with the whole hoard being able to get in at once.
Dracos
Ducking and weaving to avoid the seeking blades of the enemy soldiers, Devon holsters his pistol and draws his sword while allowing a subtle change to overcome him. The skin visible between his sunglasses and shoufa darkening to a midnight black and a palpable aura of evil and fear washing over any nearby soldiers and allies.
O'karn sucessfully takes out five more opponents, including two of the less protected mages. He notices that he's approached the corner of the courtyard is only ten yards away, and it looks like the most defensible position around.
He also notices the stairs leading up to the two men standing above the melee. Well, they were stairs, they appear to be receeding into the ground as the rumbling continues. A hint of light reveals light under the stairs.
ooc:
36 down. 20 left(8 around O'karn and ten converging on the rest) The two obnoxious moages stand apart.
O'karn roared charging for the stairs, running up there and leaping to get up onto the balcony with the two people. Anyone who gets in his way gets flung handily out of it in the method only a heavily armored ogre can do.
Dracos
"Fucking hell!" the archer swears as he tries to move backwards and away from his attackers, while swinging his bow wildly with his one hand, to try to keep the fighters from practicing their art of putting their pointy things into his fleshy being, and reaching for his dagger with the other hand. "I'm not cut out for this bloody close combat shit, dammit!"
Devon noticed the sodiers were showing off how to miss at close range while he danced away. making them look even more inept. While those pressing in on him sustained the pressure, he noticed fear creep into the eyes of those closest to him.
Remdos was not so lucky as a sword swipe took him in the side, while he missed barely with his almost blind waving of his cutting tool.
O'karn roared and ran towards the stairs, cutting down two victims as he charged past and bounded up the stairs. Giving a mightly leap when he reached the top remaining stair, his attempt to obtain the balcony was denied as a large fist came through the opening, faster than would be expected and grasped the Ogre's leg.
Gripping his bastard sword in both hands, Devon begins weave his way towards Remdos, his deadly blade flicking out at the surrounding soldiers in deceptively quick strikes.
Daggedal yanks his sword out it's sheath and spins around to decapitate his opponent, pulling out his shield in his other hand and using it to begin a steady combat method of strike-and-defend.
If the odds are suitably against him, he backs into a corner, so less men can get to him effectively.
Remdos and his opponent traded swings, each digging into the others flesh, while he backed away.
Devon moved through the melee, inflicting pain on those who opposed him. Causing them to pause as they licked their wonds, but not taking any down until he made it to the soldier behind Remdos. A quick swipe took down the unsuspecting opponent.
Daggedal did damage of his own taking down three attackers while recieve a small wound himself.
ooc(6 by the ogre 6 by the others, 1 strange hand, and two on the balcony)
Upon reaching Remdos' position, Devon turns to the soldiers he'd weaved through and attacks in a series of powerful blows.
OOC: Sorry, been realllllly busy.
IC:
The ogre gave a grunt of wrath as he promptly tried to shake off the hand, and failing that yank it further out and slash it off with his sword.
Dracos
Devon turns and trades blows with a couple of soldiers. One of the soldier gets lucky, and manages to scratch Devon, causing little real damage. Devon, on the other hand, mercilessly dispatches two more soldiers.
The stairs continue to receed as O'karn finds himself lifted into the air. The rest of the figure holding him becomes more apparent. The ogre finds prying himself loose, to be an unfullfilling endeavor. Switching to his blade, he finds the akward position inhibiting, but still manages a decent strike at the arm holding him.
As his blade tears throughs the flesh of his temporary abductor, he feels a shift, as he finds himself tossed, a very short distance away, but a good ten feet towards the ground.
As he recovers, and catches sight, the upper torso of the creature is visible, a quick estimation would put it at 30 feet high. The moltish looking discolored skin was not a pleasant sight.
Daggedal takes this opportunity to bolt after the ogre, triggering off several corpses explosions behind him as he runs through a field of dead men..
The ogre grunted, getting to his feet and moving to manuver the soldiers between him and the giant, examining it for weak points in it. He'll be defending while doing this.
Dracos
Devon moves to assist Remdos with his remaining attackers.
O'karn watches as the remaining men between him and the giant all but flee the area. The giant lifts himself out of the cave that appeared beneath the fully retracted stairs. His only apparent ailment, the cut the ogre placed on his hand, appears to close up as time moves.
Daggedal rushes to his friends side, explosions can be heard behind him. Some body parts flick of the necromancers back as he runs to see the scene that the Ogre regards.
With his best efforts, Devon tries to protect himself and his comrade. Unfortunately, he isn't quite quick enough as the bowman is taken down. Three fall in the quick melee, leaving Devon facing a man alone, two others can be seen running from the scene, presumable the new entrant to the melee, and not the attackers.
Seeing the giant, Devon attacks the lone man with a quick flurry of blows, hoping to dispatch him swiftly so that he may assist his remaining comrades.
O'karn rushes forward, planning to dodge any attacks and aim at the ankle part of one of the legs in attempt to clean sweep right through the limb and unbalance the giant.
Dracos
Devon successfullies defeats his last advesary with a quick and savage barage of blows. Before the carcass hits the ground, he runs off towards the front of the courtyard.
O'karn rushes forward. A large hand attempts to crush the ogre in defense. Quicker than expected the hand approaches the ogre, only to find air as the dodge is implemented. Taking his opportunity, the ogre swings at the leg. The sword sinks in deeply, but not thought. The limb proving thicker than anticiapted.
Tossing a glance at the balcony as he runs towards the melee, Devon holds the sword with one hand while drawing his pistol with the other.
O'karn rips his blade backwards, leaping back in case of retaliation and spinning his blade around to come around the other side in a massive strike to attempt to finish the severing and unbalancing the giant.
Dracos
Reaching O'Karns positiong, Daggedal starts pumping more strength into the Ogre using the spirit energy he has leeched from nearby corpses..
Devon races towards the melee, coming into range with pistol drawn and sword ready.
O'karn feels his strength bolstered as he moves and swings the decapitating blow. As his sword strikes true, a large hand knocks him five feet backwards.
Daggedal feels the strain of his magic use as the ogre hits the ground and the moster falls of balance as well.
O'karn groaned, shaking his head and getting to his feet, trying to get moving as soon as possible away from the giant so he doesn't risk getting crushed or blasted while he's been downed.
Dracos
Keeping out of the Giant's reach, Devon begins firing at the monster's face, aiming for the eyes.
The monstor sits up, surprising the trio with it's dexterity. Bending one leg to offer mock stability. It seemingly ignores the shots lancing into it's face, offering no acknowledgment as one eye is punctured and other divots appear on its face.
O'karn rushes the other leg, Slashing hard as he runs past!
Dracos
As O'karn rushes towards the moster, it grasps out at him, spinning swiftly on its good leg. Luckily for O'karn, he slips it grasps, but not before taking a blow to side that sends the ogre falling away from the giant.
The others notice that both the creatures arms are again in tact, and the regrowing of its severed leg is obvious, if not complete.
Glancing around, Devon looks for the closest less-than-monster-sized exit.
Devon notes the cavern where the monster came from, the hedges that cover wider pastures, and the small glowing marking on the ground, where they emerged from. The last being the only 'exit' that might be less than monster sized.
"Back through the portal," Devon calls as he moves towards the small glowing marking on the ground.
O'karn glances about, grunting in distaste and following in retreat, grabbing the human and dashes through the portal.
Dracos
The monster, growling in annoyance, starts hobbling after the retreating figures.
As Devon hits the portal, shortly followed by O'karn, carting a complacent necromancer, they hear a high shrilled laugh.
A momentary feeling of unease later, the three adventurers find themselves in the room they had vacated.
Daggedal is spurred back into action and tries to identify the exact kind of magic being used, as well as any possible countermeasures he might be able to excise.
Seeing his companions follow him through the portal, Devon moves over next to the open door and watches the portal.
Devon stations himself at the door, watching as the Ogre takes a defensive stance after dropping Daggedal to the ground.
Daggedal concentrates on the image on the floor. He notes that small traces of magic on the symbol are foreign to his senses.