The spell was a blessing as Alyssia felt much the safer for it as she waded into the battle; faith was her arsenal in a most literal sense. She let her self have a little smile form on her face as she got in close enough to heal Thondrek's wounds, but her victory was taken from her at the last moment by a hand full of stubby khordaldrum fingers.
"To the victor, the spoils..." she whispered beneath her breath and began to prepare in her mind a different spell for the fiendish badger.
Even Draven did not find this such an easy prey as he had predicted, the man's blade bouncing off a piece of the thing's armor like hide. Once again, Thon was bleeding from a wound of the badger's creation and with a little bit of quick thinking, she spun the magic she had gathered into a prayer of healing instead of the missile of energy.
When Alyssia looked back toward's the scene, it was with a sense of surprise that she looked to each of her allies. A slight laugh escaped her lips, one of happiness in the fact they had slain the beast and had escaped with their lices. A most joyous moment to be sure of.
Only Malius had any wounds left on his body. She approached the Syl and requested his permission to heal him. It would have been a violation of his space to do otherwise. Some were known to be stubborn enough with them always saying they would heal enough on their own.
(OOC: Will heal Malius to full hp if I have his permission, otherwise will let the prideful syl suffer)
When Alyysia finished with Malius, she turned and strode to where Draven was at the edge of the little gathering. She eyed him and looked him up and down to make sure he had not suffered any in the battle and spotted it. The thind disturbed her a little, the tattoo. Alyssia could not say why, it just did.
"So," she said, looking up at his face with a smile creeping onto hers, "you like something a little exotic. Would've chosen something else for myself personally."
(OOC: Looked your former post up and down and you said nothing about replacing the glove. Apologies if I took an initiative in the wrong direction.)
The battle was short, and ended with Draven's onyx sword imbedded in the monsters skull. As Thondrek commented their good teamwork, Draven propped one, buckled, black boot against the badgers skull, and withdrew his blade with a slick, slurping sound. He said nothing to the group. Simply studied the monster for a moment. It was rather impressive, and he couldn't really say it was a badger at all. Something related to one perhaps. Nomatter. It was dead now.
Turning, Draven started back towards the forest, but the priestess of the group stepped before him. He had noticed her studying him occasionally before, but they hadn't spoke much. Of course, Draven didn't speak much to anyone. She looked him up and down for a moment, and suddenly Draven realized he had forgot to put his gauntlet back on. Hastilly he swiped it from his belt and slid it on, but it was too late.
"So," she said, looking up at his face with a smile creeping onto hers, "you like something a little exotic."
Draven's golden eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. He almost always wore the long, black coat he wore now, which covered his arms, but surely she had seen the sleeves of knotwork that ran up his forarms. Even now she must be able to see the tops of the tattoos that covered his chest and shoulders, and ran up his neck. Clearly though, she was referring to the mark on his hand. Compared to the intricate (and rather expensive) markings that adorned the rest of him, the spiral on his hand was insignificant in appearance. She was a priestess though...perhaps she could guess it wasn't a simple marking.
"Would've chosen something else for myself personally."
Tightening the straps of his gauntlet, he looked beyond her, into the dark of the forest. In response, he simply said "I sometimes wish the same, priestess." Brushing by her, Draven strode towards the forest, in the direction of (wherever we were staying XD)
Some hours later Elessare arrived at a river covered with floating flower petals, the River of Floating Flowers. Someday she would like to go and be a part of the ceremony, but for now the road she had to follow bent northwards, passing the Flower Castle completely, aiming towards Flame Keep.
The turquoise sky was turning purple, and the moon was peeking among the trees when she smelled and then saw the swamp, which she had noted on her map along with other information gathered from locals along the way. The the map she had discerned that the swamp lay between the River of Flowers and the River of Light.
The purple sky was almost black when the warm glow of a well tended fire caused her to investigate.
There, on a dry piece of land, rested a group of elves. They had a campfire up and crackling. When they saw Elessar coming, one of them got up and invited her to rest the night with them. It was always safer to be in groups during the nights.
"Gladly, I accept." replies Elessarae dismounting and immediately tending her mount and the colt before joining the others at the fire. She added such supplies as she had and a fine meal was shared.
That night, by the fire, one of the elves shared with them a tale about the area between the two rivers. The legend told of the two spirits of the Duin Lotesira and the Rilma Duin coming together on the stretch of land where the two rivers came closest. Their love sprouted flowers, so special and enchanted, they gave light in the darkness. These plants carried an essence of healing, but only bloomed when the River of Light shone at its brightest. It was said that only then the spirit of the Duin Lotesire could perceive her lover, and that her happiness gave life to the flowers.
Elessarae had reason to revere the River of Light and the story they told tugged at her bardic heart strings. Thinking of a fitting words to express her feeling she suddenly remembered that she had packed her good harp to take it home, but with all that had happened she had not done so. So from her magical haversack she took out her harp and began to pick out a melody. With it came words that flowed from her, a easily as a river flows and soon she brought all together with a song. By the end of the song tears fell from her eyes, such was the pathos of the story and the song she created.
At the end of the song she let the quiet of the forest, which is never really quiet, seep back into camp.
Sitting quietly she suddenly remembers something else, "How far is it to the River of Flowers?" She askes the others.
Posted on 2007-07-23 at 00:24:22.
Edited on 2007-07-28 at 04:03:00 by Dragon Mistress
Road between Flower Castle and Flame Keep
2nd day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
"The River of Flowers?" they replied surprised. "You're right in between the River of Flowers and the River of Light. If you're looking for the Flower Castle, you'll have to go back south. A day's riding north lies Runya Nost."
The next day she left the Sylvari, who thanked her for the inspiring song and good company. Gharion and Comrade eagerly squared the swampy distance towards the Flame Keep. Not much later she witnessed a group of Syls butchering a large squirrel. The men and women looked rugged and dirty, and the fight was heavy. Elessar sped up, but came just in time to see the creature being punctured by a pitchfork.
The Sylvari looked up at her with frenzied eyes, but calmed down as they realized who she was. They didn’t speak, but carried the squirrel away by twisted horns sprouting from its shoulders. The rest of the day went by calmly.
Around dinner time she arrived at the Flame Keep, a dark brown tower surrounded by a field of long stalked flowers of orange colour. The top flowers seemed dried and black, and as the wind wreathed through the field, the flowers swayed like dancing flames. The keep itself was of simple design. The brown bricks were decorated with black arcane marks. Coming closer Elessar realized that the marks made a total pattern that looked like flames rising up on the wall. Large banners hung from the balconies and sided the big black gate. Few elves walked the road, and they didn’t look up from their business as the bladesinger passed.
(OOC: I don’t know if you intend to do anything here. You can also continue the road towards the north.) Alloryen Kingdom
Village of Birch-Root
25th day of the 7th month: Pfier
Now the badger was dead, the village of Birch-Root was safe once more. The villagers came running from their homes with clubs and make-shift weapons, guided by Nanelion the hunter. When they saw the dead badger, their mood changed. It looked like relief brushed a heavy weight from their shoulders, and they continued their trip with joy in their heart.
They thanked, praised and congratulated the companions. They patted their backs, kissed their hands and danced around the badger. The villagers dragged the badger to the town square, an open ground in front of the Council hut. As the night crawled up into the sky, a fire was started and the companions were invited to celebrate with the Sylvari’s of Birch-Root.
There was wine, spiced bread and some simple delicacies. One of the townsfolk had composed a hymn to the companions’ victory and the village’s gratitude. As a climax to the celebration, the town elder came up and held a speech that concluded with the donation of a pouch made of the badger’s skin containing the promised 75 gold pieces and the holy symbol of Kith Jora: a beautiful granite disk clad in silver, bearing the image of a tree with leaves showing the first red specks of fall. The disk was light, and could easily be altered to hang from a chain or necklace. The elder told them of the special powers, and slowly the party thinned out as people tired from the long day.
(OOC: Disk’s powers are included in the Q/A. It’s up to you guys to decide who gets this item.)
With the Badger dead and he himself fully healed he thanked the both the dwarf Geim and the Lady Alyssia, if not for the dwarf's timely intervention of healing magic the Sylvarian Ranger may very well have died and with the Lady's aid he was once again at full health. Though her words to him and her display of magic had been harsh at the start of this quest he now felt perhaps the beginning of a possible friendship.
With the threat to Birch Root over the village in a frenzy of joy threw them all a celebration with hugs, hand shakes, a pat or two on his back and a few kisses that found their way from his hand to his lips with a hint of more to come later.
Thank god Malice thought that the kisses came from female and not male Syl’s.
Then the fire and the burning of the monster that had so viciously tormented the village for the past weeks.
There was wine, spiced bread and some simple delicacies. A hymn to the companions’ victory already written and the village’s gratitude. At the celebrations end, the town elder came up and held a speech that concluded with the donation of a pouch already made of the badger’s skin containing the promised 75 gold pieces and the holy symbol of Kith Jora: a beautiful granite disk clad in silver, bearing the image of a tree with leaves showing the first red specks of fall. The disk was light, and could easily be altered to hang from a chain or necklace. The elder told them of the special powers, and slowly the party thinned out as people tired from the long day.
Though Malice did not feel right about accepting the disc, taking it from a village that most likely needed it more then the party.He seemed to be the lone voice of non-acceptance and also the lone sylvari among the party, so he said his piece and then wandered off to a hut close by, a pair of very comely maidens on his arms.
Twin sisters he realized with a smile as he locked eyes with both, mayhap saving this village had benefits all its own.....
Posted on 2007-07-28 at 23:55:11.
Edited on 2007-07-29 at 00:02:51 by TannTalas
Thondrek savored the victory with his companions. The abomination of a badger had been defeared, and with it the fears of Birch-root abated. As the villagers dragged the kill away, congratulations and preparations for festivities were made. Thondrek spent the remainder of the day taking a well earned (and even more so needed) bath, a quick rest, and then he was out and about again. He tried to hunt down either the village elder or hunter, for he had wanted to know if he could claim some trophy from the beast; a memento of the battle. A notch in his axe wouldn't do, for he hadn't struck the killing blow, but perhaps a tusk, bone shard, or other extremity might be available. The creature's bone had been hard enough to deflect axe and sword alike. Perhaps he could fashion a dagger or something along the lines to remind him of all that had transpired here today.
As the festivities began, Thondrek didn't say much, dance and song he would leave to pointy-ears, who seemed to be more than at ease as he left the clearing with a pair of maidens under arm. Thondrek let out a chuckle, and partook a little more wine. It wasn't Khordish ale, but it would do for now.
A thought came to mind as she prepared to sleep, and then it struck her, Before she had left the River of Light she had filled her waterskin from the river, and as she passed the River of Flowers she had filled her other skin. Taking her dagger she drew a furrow in the ground and filled it with water from the River of Light and then quickly followed it by pouring water from the River of Flowers into it.
"Because of my quest I could not depart from my path to bring you, Lady of the River of Flowers, the essence of your love from your Lord, the River of Light. I offer this mingling of yours and his waters in reverence of your love and honor of each other."
Then Elessarae made her bed on the ground, woke to take her post at watch, and go back to sleep until morning.
A quick breakfast of bread taosted with cheese and drizzled with honey was all she needed before grooming both horses and tacking Gharion.
She bade her companions of the night "Good Travels." and then warned of the MOAGS mutated animals of great size, mounted and rode off toward her next destination.
Coming across the fight with a MOAGS's squirrel, Elessarae erges Gharion forward to aid her sword toi the fray, but as she closed a well aimed pitchfork dealt the killing blow. Following ax and spears made sure that the creature would not rise. Before leaving the weary fighters, who were not more that farmers and such, she tells them to burn the carcass. That way no one could raise it as undead.
Ride, walk, ride, jog, Elessarae spelled Gharion's back and her backside by taking time out to keep herself limber and fit. In that way she reached the Runya Nost. She rides to the gates in hopes she can find a bed for the night.
Posted on 2007-07-31 at 22:01:40.
Edited on 2007-07-31 at 22:04:03 by Dragon Mistrerss
Draven had just started walking away from the group, and the dead badger, when a flood of Syls washed over him, along with the others. A young Sylvari woman flung her arms around him in an embrace that had him holding his arms out and scowling. His arms were caught and his hands kissed by others, before he was relinquished and could break free of the grateful mob, with scowls and mumbled “Don’t touch me”s and “It was nothing.”s.
Of course he was lucky only a small percentage of the village actually approached him. The rest avoided his dark demeanor and glowing eyes. Draven was perfectly content with this, and stood on the sidelines, watching as the others were smothered with ‘thank you’s.
The feast, however, Draven attended, dragging a chair and towards the nearest keg of wine, and indulging in a plate of food followed by many, many cups of wine. He listened to the speech, as if bored by it, and he shooed any approaching females. He was in no mood for fun tonight…even with an elf wench.
By the end of the evening, Draven was well on his way towards full fledged inebriation. The first opportunity he had, he had pillaged a keg, and had rolled it off to a nice dark patch in the forest, away from the commotion. Here he would spend his evening, leaning against a tree with one arm resting on the keg, and the other cupping a wooden goblet. If there was one thing elves were good for, it was wine.
Posted on 2007-08-01 at 18:20:39.
Skari-dono Icelanders! Roll Out Karma: 102/11 1514 Posts
By using the edges of the rocky wall, Vidar managed to free himself of the rope he was bound with. "Not the brightest bunch," he thought as he reached for his potions and finished a Potion of Cure Modorate Wounds in a single drink. He sat in his prison cell facing the blocked exit. It didn't seem all that sturdy to the Khord who came to the conclusion that he could probably break through it if he tried.
After he checked if there was any guards close by he decided to give it a go. He took a step back and attacked the wooded fence with all his might. If he would bread through, he thought, he would venture either way through the tunnels and search for his weapons and use a piece of the fence if he would meet any of those damned fishfolks. This could be the toughest situation he'd been in yet, but he was determined that he would live to see tougher days.
((OOC: If the first attempt at the fence won't work, Vidar will drink his potion of Bull's Strength and try again))
Village of Birch-Root
26th day of the 7th month: Pfier
The next morning it was time to leave the village of Birch-Root behind. They had arrived two days ago as sell swords, but now they left as heroes.
While they moved back into the wilderness, all the villagers had gathered to wave them goodbye, some openly sad to see them go, others with a big smile of appreciation or giggles of overnight secrets. While the Sylvari had lost all their wealth to the adventurers, they had regained their safety, and they were content. As a departure gift they were all given a rope necklace bearing on of the badger’s nails, and Thondrek received the requested piece of bone.
Under shouts of departure they left the village behind. The words of the village elder most clear and proud: “You will always be welcome here, heroes. We shall share the story of the Badger Slayers with our neighbours.”
And then they were back in the forest, returned to their journey through the Sylvari kingdom. Their destination was somewhere in front of them, miles away. But the glory of the previous day made the long trip weigh less on their shoulders. The first day seemed pleasant, and went by quickly in the beautiful, sun-bathed woods.
The next morning brought a change in weather though. Clouds started piling up slowly during the day, and in the evening the first drops of rain penetrated the thick overhead roof of leaves and branches. That night, camping was terrible. It was difficult to find a dry spot, for even the widest of trees seemed eager to let the water go through.
The morning of the third day, the first day of fall, they woke up clammy and stiff. The clouds had gone though, and slowly their clothes dried during their walk. It was on this late afternoon that they found another Sylvari settlement. Birch-Root had been a mere gathering of homes, but this settlement was far greater than that, a true Sylvari city.
It started with the joining of paths into roads. They encountered more travellers, all Sylvari, who regarded them with suspicion. Even Malius got several frightened glances, but mostly it was the Khords who were shunned or glanced at the most.
From the main road they had a clear picture of the city. It started gradually, with sporadically placed houses and even an inn at the outskirts of the area. But they could see the village grow beyond that. Homes were built higher into the trees towards the centre of the city, and even a couple of white towers were visible sticking above the thick clouds of leafs.
Guards were patrolling the city in groups of four, recognizable by their similar helmets, chainmail and shoulder-plates, covered by dark green capes. As the companions made their way into the city, they were stopped for questioning by a group of guards. Two of them seemed battle-hardened, but the other two were more shy and their chainmail looked ill-fitting.
“Please state your business here.” the eldest of them spoke while planting his spear in the ground firmly. Londelirinen Kingdom
3rd day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
Elessarae road Gharion up to the gate of the Flame Keep. There was a small patio there, where several horses stood waiting for their masters to return. It was up to here that she would be able to take him and Comrade.
Beyond the portcullis lay a wide open chamber, where many Sylvarians stood in conversation or walked from one room to another. There were several doorways and stairs leading to various other chambers, all guarded by armoured warriors.
As Elessar inquired about a place to stay, the guard she had addressed cast her a strange look.
“This is not an inn, young lady.” he spoke, but was suddenly distracted by something behind the bladesinger’s back. She too heard a ruckus and turned. In the doorway leading outside, a group of three guards was trying to keep Comrade out of the building. More guards came running to aid them, but Comrade seemed determined enough, and broke free of them. Within seconds he had joined Elessarae. Guards came running at them, and all the other Sylvari were watching them, when a voice boomed over everything:
“What in the name of Abyssmal Fire is going on here!”
It was an old mage, judging by his garment. He descended one of the stairs and looked angrily at Comrade. His black robes with printed flames on them fluttered wildly on his approach.
“What is this horse doing here?” Inhabited Cave
South-west Chakran Mtns.
28th day of the 7th month: Pfier
Vidar was lucky the fishmen hadn’t taken his equipment. Rummaging through his backpack, he found two potions, which he eagerly gulped down.
The first one healed his wounds and aches, and the Khord felt ready to roll again. After imbibing the second one he could feel his muscles grow. It made his outfit tighter, but the discomfort didn’t matter too much.
With as much of a run-up as he could get, Vidar smashed himself into the door, shoulder first. He bounced back with a bruised shoulder, but would not give in. A second time did the throw himself into the wooden fence that barred his exit. It didn’t budge, but neither did the Khord. Slightly dizzied he flung his shoulder into the door a third time. A loud crack echoed through the tunnels and his cell. Upon the fourth time, Vidar threw himself straight through the wooden bars and into a low pool of water in the tunnel beyond his cell. He had busted out.
Running back for his belongings he randomly decided which way to go: north.
Crossing a few other cells, which seemed only occupied with old mouldy rags and sea weeds, he saw a tunnel curving east. In the middle of the curve was the opening into another tunnel or cell. A light shone from the entrance and as Vidar approached slowly, he could hear the gurgling sounds of voices.
Peering carefully around the corner, he noted another cave with some make-shift furniture that looked soggy and rotten. Four fishmen sat and stood in the room, in heavy conversation in their strange watery tongue. A lantern stood on a damp table, and against it rested Vidar’s weapons.
Elessarae knew she was facing a man of some importance much like Urvanial, the High Druid. She reached up and put a soothing hand on Comrade's neck, so that the young Moonhorse understood she was not upset with him.
"Comrade is here because I am his guardian, or...more like his Foster Mother." Simply stated it was the truth, but it sounded strange even to Elessare's ears.
"Urvanial indicated that his mother probably told him to stay with me, and he is doing just that. Urvanial also warned that he was stubborn."
"Please forgive him, he is young and I believe he feels bound to stay with me, because he climbed the stair in Urvanial's Tower on my heels and was only stopped by the ladder to the tower's top room. I also allowed Comrade to roam freely in my family home in Sillarion."
Elessasrae sudden remembered she had not introduced herself to the Mage, for that was what she thought he was. "I am Elessarae Isiliri of Megilindar Nost."
So stating her name she had also stated she was a full Bladesinger. Before her final test she was Elesssarae Isiliri, Cadet at Megilindar Nost. She looked about at the seasoned warriors about her and wondered if anyone was about to comment, Aren't you a little young for a Bladesinger.
Posted on 2007-08-04 at 17:38:48.
Edited on 2007-08-04 at 17:48:10 by Dragon Mistress
3rd day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
The wizard looked at her from under an impatiantly raised eyebrow. When she finished her explanation, he stated evenly:
"Well, miss Elessarae Bladesinger, I don't know who Urvanial is, but it seems he or she was right. You have a stubborn horse that is not allowed in this castle. Please be so kind to escort him back outside, where he can be tied to some tree. Have a great day."
Without another word, the mage left and pointed at an equally robed Syl, a woman. Their outfits were identical save for specially embroidered bands on the hems of the robe. She approached Elessar, and walked with her while they took Comrade outside.
"I ask you to forgive Edowarn for his short words. He hasn't slept for two nights, and... well, he's been busy with all the strange cases around the forest. Animals are turning against us, I'm sure you know."
Elessarae, hand still on the colt's neck pushes him around and heads back outside.
"I understand about the MAOUS (Pronounced may-ous), as I call them, Mutant Animals of Unusual Size. It is how I came to have Comarade. His mother, whose foot got stuck in some tree roots in a river, was attacked by three great owls with leathery feathers. One of them spouted some demonic gibberish that affected her as well as myself. I had to fight off the crushing sense of despair and hopelessness. I was able to prevail, but the mare was greatly traumatized, she lead me to her colt, and the after she communed with him she went off into the forest."
It still hurt to remember the look the mare gave her as she cast one look back at her colt and and herself. A sad sigh escaped Elessarae's lips.
"By the way, Urvanial is the High Druid in Sillarion. I took him one of the dead owls. While I was there an entire flock of demonic owls tried invading his tower. Luckily the Captain of the Guard that took me there, a dwaven servant of the High Druid, and myself were able to keep the MAOUS at bay until Urvanial was able to cast a great fire spell, and killed them all."
"I thought is was strange at the time to be attacked in the Druid's tower, but is seems that whoever is causing this transformation did not want Urvanial to examine the dead bird. While riding here I came to a village that had just killed a MOAUS squirrel, it had horns strouting from its shoulders. I told them to take the body to Urvanial."
Elessarae nods to the guards that Comrade had gone passed. "Sorry," she says and she continues walking to where Gharion is tied.
"You might meet up with a Lady of Megilindar Nost, who has taking up the quest to look into the problem."
Elessarae stops beside Gharion and looks to the young woman. "Do you know of a place where I could stay for the night? It could be a stable as I need to get them both feed and a place to rest, we have come a long way and quickly, and there has been little time for them to graze. Or is there a nearby village?"
Elessarae's stomach rumbled lowly as she spoke of food. To save time she had cut down on her meals. Most of her supplies were down to dries fruits and meat. She had been going to restock at the village where they spoke of possessed horses, but had decided to move on as quickly as possible.
She begins to untie Gharion, since her asking about a place to stay here was skoffed at by the guards.
Posted on 2007-08-05 at 05:19:41.
Edited on 2007-08-06 at 04:49:43 by Dragon Mistress
Thondrek was happy that they had found a settlement built on solid earth and not in the trees, with homes of mortar and stone intermingled with thatch and wood. He could hardly wait to resupply, and by that he meant share his fill in both food and ale. They had come a long way, and a night in a real bed, with new provisions in their pack would surely ease their journey ahead.
"Aye, tis nice to see life, and plenty of it." Thondrek said as they entered the city. They hadn't made it far though before a foursome of guards had stopped them for questioning.
"Our business? Simple, to restock provisions, both in our packs and in our bellies before hitting yonder road once more. Per'aps ye could direct us to a promisin drinkin hole or general store?"
1st day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
The guard that had spoken looked at Thondrek as he spoke. It was clear that he was trying to hide his disgust as the Khord spoke of searching a drinking hole.
"If you mean a tavern or a winery, you'll find plenty of those if you continue this road. I must inform you though, that your animals are not allowed in the city. We have heard news from eastern towns, where animals are turning into monsters because of some kind of infection. We can't risk our animals being exposed to any threat." Londelirinen Kingdom
3rd day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
The female mage seemed to think for a moment. She looked at Elessarae and nodded.
"There is a village, a little up north, on the outskirts of our forest. You could try your luck there, though I've heard they are reluctant to accept strangers. I wish you good luck, lady bladesinger. I apologize for our meager hospitality."
With a hungry belly she mounted Gharion again and left the Flame Keep behind.
An hour and a half later she found the village the mage had spoken about. It lay secluded under thick trees, but in the distance, Elessar could see the Chakran Mountains rising high above their tops.
The village ground was swampy, and the area quiet. There was nobody outside the homes, but lights could be seen through the windows.
Then a goblin came walking out of one of the houses, unaware of Elessar's presence. He crossed the main square, and entered another building.
Posted on 2007-08-07 at 09:11:44.
Edited on 2007-08-07 at 09:50:04 by Almerin