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Alt 04-09-2007, 19:06   #1
Spider Jerusalem
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Registriert seit: Mar 2004
Ort: Falkirk, Scotland
Alter: 60
Beiträge: 946
RPG Character: Wallace "Red" Filbi

For a moment in the history of EO, it semed that the world was holding its breath, the end of one cycle about to give way to another.

Lev seemed to be constantly engaged in meetings, either with confused looking strangers coming to the Howling Mounds, or disappearing for a day here, an hour there, to who knew what distant lands.

It seemed like a time for the adventurers who had come to the HEAD camp to also take stock of what they wanted to do next, a chance also to use the ability to travel anywhere in Eo to wrap up any unfinished business they had...

* * Continue * *
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Alt 04-27-2007, 18:09   #2
Celestial Scholar
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Registriert seit: Jan 2006
Ort: Magnet Stones
Beiträge: 412
RPG Character: Arin Cliffhawk
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Arin wasn't sure of what he was doing now. Here he is, lying between two planks, feeling exhausted by the migraine he had a while ago and unaware of what his family will do to him. The wagon on which he was slowly came to a stop and he could feel the log above him getting lighter. Having realized that they're releasing him - in a way - he looked for his hammer, but didn't find it. However, Arin was too slow and he was quickly grabbed by a big troll. The troll fiercely hugged him, making him completely unable to move. The troll was so smelly, Arin couldn't resist to exhort:

"Lughead! Haven't you ever thought of taking a bath in a river?" - he tried to free himself, but to no avail - "Let go, you idiot!" - he shouted again. But as he wanted to say something else again, someone blindfolded him from behind - "Hey! What's this? Let go!"

"Will ye cut the jabberin' and get to bein' a prisoner?" - the deep voice from before said - "Troll, take the traitor to the meeting room's cell. He'll be needing a little interrogation before we kill 'em.

"Niethalf smash you, accursed monstrosity! Let go!" - Arin screamed again with fury. The Troll began moving. Few minutes elapsed with the convicted dwarf endlessly screaming, until the Troll and the mysterious person stopped somewhere. Arin couldn't tell. But he didn't even take the time to look around.

The Troll dropped Arin into a dusty room and then shut the old cell door. The dwarf took off his blindfold and looked around. He could barely see anything, since the prison cell he was in was not lit, and the only source of light came from two poor torches from the neighbouring room. This must be the meeting room the voice talked about. It had a round table with about five chairs around it and an odd lectern in the middle... out of it, there were some bloody entrails sticking out. Arin gulped at that sight. Apart from that the walls were dusty, weathered brick walls with cobwebs and traces of blood inside the cell. The rickety bed in the cell was even more worn and creepier: It was a simple stone bed with some breaks and blood traces. Arin gulped again.

"Bloody things are going to happen here. I can feel it." - he thought

The Troll left with a loud tramp and the shadowy figure approached again. This time, he was less shadowy. A fairly tall and muscular dwarf with golden beard and long, blonde, pony-tail hair stared at Arin and was overjoyed at his misery.

"Yer not getting outta here until ye tell us everything..." - the same voice said, from his lips - "-...outcast."

"Oh, so this is my new title? Outcast? I'm honored. Mind telling me why you're after me?" - the prisoner replied with a frown

"I ain't... but a dally old lady is. Her gold is shining like there's no tomorrow and she needed our blades. So, heh, we gave over some." - the keeper laughed

"Dwarf humor. Thank Aonir I'm living with humans, not you bloodletting drunkards."

"Doesn't make sense, eh? Well, Outcast, I hope yer intending on sportin'. Or you might wanne get rid a some fat. Elseways it's off to the dungeon with ye!" - the bearded dwarf said, having lost his temper in a moment. He banged at the cell door

"That don't scare me, whoever you are. Why am I here anyways?"

"The gold-giver lass wants a word with ye. I have a good imagination of what she'll ask from ye. He he he." - the keeper left and through the meeting room door, which was more civilized, compared to the rest of the room. Arin tried to eavesdrop, but all he could heard was that the keeper and two woman voices were talking silently. Then they stopped and a dwarven woman, fat as can be came in.

Arin looked away idly.

"Oh... hello, Dregit. Didnt expect to see you hunting for me." - Arin muttered almost willingly to himself

"What did ye say? Was that a "Oh, I'm so happy to see ye, sister!" comment?" - the dwarf woman called Dregit bellowed with an ugly tone

"I said I want to get out." - the prisoner noted calmly

"Aye, our father told us to get ye. Says he's got an errand for ye!" - she bellowed with the same volume as before

"Errand? And I was dragged all the way to the Cliffhawk Estate to run an errand for my hated parents?" - Arin cursed in secret

"It's very urgent..." - a silent, squeakish voice said from behind the meeting room door

"Eh? Who's there? I sense a human!" - Arin suddenly took etiquette - "Come forth, milady. I'm harmless."

"Quit yappin' like a two-bit druid!" - Dregit shouted again and slapped her hind on the chair, which made a squeak, but a loud one - "This be Thylda Lotustear, a crafter from Greyfell. She needs a bodyguard through some uncharted lands... mostly I think they're called Windwalls."

"You should know, DEAR Sister..." - the word "dear" was shouted in irony and mistrust - "You mean, I need to take this weak... err I mean sweet lady to the East?"

"Me point exactly, DEAR Brother!" - Dregit shouted with sincere humor, along came a gloat or two from the fat lady - "Ye really know how to mend yer blood temper. She'll tell ye the details, but keep in mind, Brother," - she turned cruel and bitter - ,we're watching ye day and night. And if our client dies, I'll make sure ye die with her or otherwise. Get me?"

"Don't be too rough on him... please." - the client called Thylda entered the room. She wore a tattered priest's robe and had a small but precious-looking tiara in her brown and smooth hair. She seemed slightly young, around 20, and so scarce and silent. On her right, Arin noticed a barbed dagger with runic inscriptions... one that slightly seems magic. She took breath and continued to the fat lady: - "I want my bodyguard to be fairly calm and relaxed. It's... it's not pleasant to be frustrated over death threats. I know you're organization works with dark methods, but..." - the young woman turned to Arin and slowly began to walk to the cell door, unquestioning the prisoner's calm position - "...I've heard that the porter of this group mentioned a freelancing dwarf. Is that you?"

"Yes..." - Arin replied with no signs of feelings. Inside, he muttered: "Freelance member, eh? I resigned long ago. Darn my parents..."

"Then..." - the craftslady continued, gazing with a comforting smile - "...I would like you to guide me through the East of these lands. Is that fair to you?"

"Umm..." - Arin scratched his mustache in a dastardly stance - "...only if we make a compromise, too."

"No bargains, Brother!" - Dregit savagely exhorted - "Just guide her, get me?"

"Miss Cliffhawk... I beg you, stop." - Thylda witheld the fat lady's temper - "I will make deals with my bodyguard at my own cost. It is my funeral, isn't it?" - she showed a weak grin

"Whatever, missy." - Dregit held herself back from closing matters - "But I warn ye, our kin is a loathsome lot. He'll only give ye trouble. Alrighty, Outcast, out ye go!" - she opened the lock on the cell and let Arin out. She noted: "If ye be needin' a new hat and yer hammer back, go to the armory to get yerself a new one and to get that meat bruiser of yers that ye call a hammer. Get me?"

"Stop using the "Get me?" term, Sis. It's annoying me..." - Arin pondered swiftly and added: - "...and my client." - And with that, he walked out of the cell in a disciplined fashion

"I'll meet you at the Estate gates. Prepare yourself. I will bring along a cart filled with food and living supplies, so don't fear." - Thylda said whilst the Outcast walked out of the meeting room and made his way to the armory in the basement...

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Alt 08-21-2007, 20:28   #3
lord Tyrondus
The Troubled One
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Registriert seit: Mar 2004
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 2.120
RPG Character: Tarren Cergan
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The last few weeks had been incredibly busy for Tarren. Taking care of Zaphina, the drakeling. If building it a nest hadn't been difficult enough, constantly feeding it was. Nox said the mother usually eats the meat and vomits it out in the baby's mouth, but the HEAD's experts assured Tarren that it will also survive raw, undigested meat. It was doing just fine.
Tarren had started to grow quite fond of the little drakeling, who followed him around whenever it wasn't asleep (not quite often). Sure, the dung and piss stank, but Tarren had grown quite used to the smell and after a while he didn't even minded it anymore.
Besides, the constant presence of the little one had a sort of soothing effect. It made Tarren remember that there were still things to be sure off. He was sure, for example that Zaphina wouldn't betray him, that he wouldn't pin him down with a dagger at his throat.
A poisoned dagger, to boot.
Images of that day still haunted his mind, and he cought himself more often then not wondering what would come next. The location of the HEAD was now revealed. What would they do? Move to another safe location, if there was one? Surely there was. Or would they stand and fight the battle that would surely follow?
Tarren didn't even know anymore just what they would be fighting for. Oh yes... magic...
Speaking of which... after tossing Zaphina a piece of meat, he looked at the scrolls he took from the library.

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Alt 11-13-2008, 11:24   #4
Celestial Scholar
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Registriert seit: Jan 2006
Ort: Magnet Stones
Beiträge: 412
RPG Character: Arin Cliffhawk
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As usual, Arin was in a broken mood, every time he was home. Last he was here, they crept up on him to test his skills of self-defense and his reflexes. He took that as a foolish joke - a test of sorts. It's times like these, that Arin neglects tests, evades them, or even loathes them. The easiest outcome is always achieved with less bloodshed, he interpreted. The Cliffhawks are renowned for their series of slaughters and massacres all over Nortander. No wonder he felt the urge to escape: his kin work with insidious methods. They cheat, they steal, they lie, and worst of all, they shift the blame to cover their own failures.

That's what Arin has been doing these last few months. Shifting the blame. He wanted to feel secure and courageous as always, but he had minimal faith in what he had to do now. Dregit was quite thrilled to see Arin in chains, the Cliffhawk Assassins, Vanguards and Defenders all look at him with a dreadful gaze - as if they were finally meeting the traitor in their own ranks and didn't even get a chance for retribution. The only thing Arin should've ever been punished for is following that source of light and letting himself fall prey to a mere Vanguard. He had a feeling in his stomach about that egg... that egg was trouble. I wonder if they managed to shatter it, Arin contemplated.

Knowing Redshirt at first glance, they managed to save it, more than likely. Also seeing how that Tarren fellow was behaving, Arin would say things are going as worst as they can.

Everything was happening so fast for Arin to grasp details. The only thing for certain, is that he got a job, and maybe Thylda can take her back to the Howling Mounds, before the HEAD gets overrun by those dark elves. Even though he felt new to this whole situation - meeting Lev and all - he gave the whole HEAD thing little a thought. Things will settle down and clarify as I move on, he thought.

There he was, in the same old armory he knew very well. It didn't change much, apart from the new weapons and armor stacked everywhere. The Cliffhawks have been upgrading their weapons stock with war mattocks, crushers, hooked spears and other orcish weaponry. He could tell they are orcish from the design. If the Cliffhawks are getting weapons from the dark races, does that mean they have something to do with what the darkelves intend to do? Usually, Cliffhawks don't question their employers; it's almost impossible to question orcs or such monsters, but the Cliffhawks do whatever yields rewarding bounty.

That's what is going on, Arin presumed. His family is arming themselves for something big to come. Or is it just me...?

Without second thought, Arin grabbed his good old hammer, still worn from the last battles. He grabbed some polish and iron nuggets and set out to reinforce his warhammer a bit. He attached a few iron hilts and rings on the head and the haft, making sure the hammer has less chance of being damaged and falling apart. He tried to restore the strongness of the wooden material with some polish made from some swamp monster's gelatinous body moist, and sure enough, it helped the wood regain health somewhat. He put the hammer on his back and looked for a helmet next. There were steelforged winged helmets everywhere, he knew he shouldn't take one of those. If he would, people would look at him as an agent for his family - again.

So he browsed some of the footlockers and chests in the armory, until he finally managed to find a helmet of the same size as his head. It even resembled the one he had before he was nearly decapitated.

Then it hit him - how come he's still alive? His head hurt so much after that relentless spear swipe, he was going to die. Now he feels nothing. His head is as good as new. Do they have healing now as well?

Then another, more important thought crossed his mind. Where's his inherited shield? He knew Dregit would confiscate that crystal shield as a rare item, so he rushed off to the rarity quartermaster in another basement chamber. But the watchman at the door stopped him.

"State yer buisness, Outcast."

"I'm here for my shield, that was transported here due to it's mystical nature. Dregit gave me authorization to take it."

"Hm..." - he saluted and opened the door - "The quartermaster is inside. Talk to 'em and see if 'ell give it back to ye."

So he did.

"Hey there, Outcast. Got any requests?" - the quartermaster began

"Just my shield. It's a crystal shield of dwarven craftsmanship."

"Might I ask who made it?" - he rubbed his chin

"I can't say. I bought it from a merchant at a Hallite fortress in the Windwalls."


Damn these supply officials, he grunted. - "Merchant's name was Ingra, she sold it to me for 3 gold 20 silver or so."

"You didn't seem to buy it. You don't have that much on you."

He grunted again. - "I was funded by my smith mentor."

"And his name was...?"

Arin didn't want to mention it was one of their primary targets, so he lied yet again. - "Berdolf Graystrike of Greyfell. He was hired by the Thane to teach many an eager dwarven youngsters. I was one of them. I recieved the shield as a unique stipend for my services."

The quartermaster squinted, then glared at Arin, amused with this intriguing string of lies. But he fell for it. - "Alright, but I'll put a word in for Berdolf that his student is doing a pathetic job as a freelancer. And I assume this Ingra is a free trader, just like all the merchants in the southern regions. Very well..." - he took the spotless, shining shield from a cabin behind him - "Here. Now get out of here and do your duty. I heard you're going on a vanguard trek. Off with you, now, I'm quite busy."

Arin turned around and left, with his shield, happily ever after. Out of earshot, he whispered to himself, grinning in anticipation:

"This is going well."
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Alt 11-14-2008, 13:33   #5
cronus power
The Unpredictable
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Registriert seit: Sep 2008
Ort: Australia... so im on when this place is silent
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 44
RPG Character: Arniche Whitewind
Arin & Arniche

As Arin approached the gate, his charge came into full view. As a dwarf of his word, he would not back out now. He and Thylda were already heading out of the Cliffhawk residence, carts and all. Without a word, he grabbed the cart and pulled it out the gate, the weight was not right, but he ignored it, not wanting to ask in case he offended her.

The trek was hard on the dwarf as he was not used to pulling such a large load. Arin had begun to really ache when Thylda stopped him, whispering something to him, a word of caution perhaps. Ahead he witnessed quite a rare sight. Crossing the road ahead was a large man with an even larger bear pulling what seemed to be a dwarven built cart, suddenly the man stopped and peered at them. A grin broke across his face, a grin that disturbed Arin, it was eerily familiar. Arin felt very confused, yet stupid. The large man strode towards them, Thylda made to move but Arin stopped her, he wanted to know exactly what was going on.

"Lady, you better stand back. This person looks like he doesn't want trouble. Don't interfere." - Arin said ruefully. Thylda didn't take offense, however.

The large man, tall even for a human, kneeled in front of Arin, bringing himself eye-to-eye with the dwarf...
With an effort, Arin resisted reaching for his hammer, he didn't want to fight such a man, AND a bear.

"It is you! HA, I thought you'd never come back, Cliffhawk!!!"

"Umm...." - that was all Arin could muster before the man stood up and bolted back to the wagon, he tore open a draw with the Cliffhawk family crest on it and withdrew a large chunk of metal, its immediate shine suprising Arin and Thylda.
Excitedly, the man slammed closed the draw and said something to the bear, who continued on without him.

Bounding back, the man knelt once again before Arin. "My apologees, I did not search for you, Arin. I had quite a busy few years..." - he said whilst grinning ear to ear. The man grabbed Arin's wooden warhammer - "Looks like its undergone alot of repairs since I last saw it! You best keep it, for sentimentality. You should also keep this." - he said, holding up the object from the wagon between their eyes.

Only now did Arin see it in its full, a well crafted metal warhammer, with the appearence of adamantinum. Upon grabbing it from the mans open hands, he suddenly realised how he knew this man; he had been turned down by Skarvig, and vowed he would do what he could to help Arin, his then better. The dwarf felt baffled and flattered all at once. But he felt discontent. - "Keep it. I made my hammer for myself, and the very last thing I would EVER do is take credit for someone else's work. Did you make this?" - he waved the metal hammer around.

The man, Arniche, didn't respond to that question. He just grinned as he stood, he then bowed lately to Thylda, but nonetheless seemed incredibly happy.

"It's so good to see a human around these parts. What are you doing here, friend?" - Thylda asked with the spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"Well, I..." - Arniche started, but the dwarf rudely interrupted... - "Save it for later. Let's just get this job done, I got lots of work to do, and it won't be finished all by itself." - Arniche was a bit disappointed to see Arin wasn't that glad to see him again, but he just kept grinning vigorously, knowing Arin will feel the same later. Thylda just waved with her hand, allowing Arniche to join them. - "A word of advice, however, for both of you." - she remembered - "The cart holds an essential medicine that needs to be guarded fiercely. It is fragile, and has a heavy scent, which we can't smell. But the creatures around here, Beastmen and the like, are bound to be lured by it. Keep your guard up." - she turned to Arnice, reflecting the same grin he still displayed on his face. She bowed elegantly. - It's such a pleasure to meet you!"

"Likewise!" - Arniche replied, then glared at Arin, who seemed to give the entire meeting no mind. - "Well then, let's go!"
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Alt 11-15-2008, 11:38   #6
Celestial Scholar
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Registriert seit: Jan 2006
Ort: Magnet Stones
Beiträge: 412
RPG Character: Arin Cliffhawk
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Some time later, it was getting past noon, and they were moving through the mountains of the Southern Windwalls, planning to move through Greydusk Vale, to the Howling Mounds, where Arin knew the HEAD is. Moreover, it will be almost impossible to find the headquarters. It was said, that the HEAD's location is well hidden. And maybe there will be some dark elves in Greydusk Vale, just waiting for the opportunity to kill them all. But he had to know more about his "comrades"...


"Yes, Arin?" - she started - "What's on your mind?"

"Where exactly are we going?"

"There is a camp at the portal to Greydusk Vale. One of my fellow mages is waiting there. One that specializes in the lore of the Convocation. She is an elementalist by trade and tends to keep to herself. I have to get the medicine in this cart to her, so I can cure her ailment. Her name is Rosa kal'Maudon, she's an elf."

"A light one, I hope." - Arniche noted

"Truth be told, I could never tell myself." - she continued to Arniche whilst thinking hard - "She has some features that resemble both. She has ears like a dark elf, but skin as pure as a light one. I assume she is a half-kin. Oh..." - she turned back to Arin - "...the point is, we need to give her the medicine."

"And why do you need armed help?"

"Because..." - Thylda shuddered

"Don't worry, you can tell us! It's not like we're going to drop you into the Elemental Seas if you have something bad in store for us... right Arin?" - Arniche grinned

"Oh, no, no, no! I'd never!" - Thylda interruped - "It's what I've said before. I'm quite certain Beastmen would come around. But there is something else."

"I figure my brethren will be watching us, and as soon as they know what we have, they'll attack us head on."

"My thoughts exactly, friend." - Thylda let out a weary sigh - "I've read your informations in the Elder's archives. You seem to be the only special agent in this organization I can trust. All the other Cliffhawks work with grim methods. They are nothing more than voracious mercenaries."

"Ha, that's for sure!" - Arniche spoke his mind unhesitantly - "The Cliffhawks were always the whackest fishes in the dwarf sea. I've worked with Skarvig, who told me about..."

"Bite it!"

"Oh... sorry Arin. So, let's just say I have my sources... Anyway... I know how the Cliffhawks work. But I'm pretty baffled to see that dwarves can be stealthy assassins despite their physique!"

"Most of them aren't that cunning." - so Arin - "They rely on eavesdropping and ambushes; that's the only methods of stealth that they use. The rest of their bloody work is brute force." - he looked at Arniche, quite puzzled - "How come you came here now?"

"Oh, I live closeby! There's a mine I've been working in and it became somewhat like a second home to me."

"Weren't you from Sharrowdale?"

"I left Sharrowdale and my fellow scholars a while back to practice smithery and try to get to your level."

Arin peered at the metal hammer sticking out of the rear cart. He pulled them harder. But as he tried, he just got more exhausted and decided to signal for a break. Then he continued:

"I can't figure out how you made that hammer of yours."

"I made it for you!"

"I know, I know, but like I said, I don't take credit for someone else's work."

"My friend, it's an esteemed gesture. Why wouldn't you accept it?" - Thylda put her hand on the tired Arin's shoulder

"Because the wooden one is mine, and I plan to reforge it into a metal one when the time comes. It's all forgework and blacksmithery. Don't babble in it."

Arniche scratched his head. - "How could you possibly turn that rickety beater into a true warhammer? No offense, but..."

"You know, a hammer can have an inner reinforcement made of wood to support the metal bars that deal the damage. Also, the haft can stay wooden, and all I need to do is get better wood - some from the Breathing Forest far away, maybe - to improve the capacity and power of the hammer."

"Yes, fascinating. You really haven't forgotten your work." - Arniche had to say some corrections, he felt - "But you need to understand, that a dwarf of your caliber can carry almost any hammer, wooden or metal, and a pure metal hammer is always more effective when dealing with enemies. It's a proven fact, that pure metal can crush skulls on impact better, than any wooden one."

Arin, abashed by his comment, felt ridiculously overruled. - "My apologies. I didn't know you've learnt so much over the years."

"Heck, smelting ore and making metal weapons does that to you." - Arniche grinned with glee and chuckled - "Say, can Korale help you with that?"

"Huh? Who?" - Arin was confuddled

"My pet bear, Korale. He can carry quite a load if in good shape. Hey, I'll even let you ride him if you like."

"But where is he?"

"Oh..." - Arniche looked around - "I sent him back into the direction of the Estate... he'll be right around, I hope."

Some time later, sure enough, he was there, and they could continue moving. By that time, dawn broke, and they were at a fork. One of the paths lead upwards, Thylda signaled her friends to move that way. Yet, the other path lead to somewhere most familiar to Arniche. He said it would be wise to go home and pack up, probably looking for another place to live until the time comes. So they decided to approach the mine Arniche lived in. At the mouth of the mine, some humans and dwarves were taking care of stocks of materials, furnaces and other smith's tools. They all greeted Arniche upon his approach. He told everyone who Arin and Thylda were, and he told them, that this is his mining crew, consisting of a mere handful of workers - eight to be exact. Arniche issued his crewmembers to pack everything into dwarven crates, dismantle and salvage the furnaces and smelters; they were moving. It turned out, that they were here since two years, now they have to move?

"You don't have to do this." - Arin said

"Look, we can settle in somewhere else! And we're bound for the Howling Mounds, right? The more, the merrier!"

"The journey there will be very perilous. I suggest you take every help you can get." - Thylda added

"Okay." - Arin paused briefly - "Hey, are you referring to yourself, lady?" - She nodded, seeing how fast he understood. After some persuasion from the others, he decided to take the help.

Before they went off, Arniche advised Arin to scour the cavern for any remaining necessities, because he didn't have time to decently explore it. He was just sleeping in the shelters at the entrance of the cave, he never really went down to - or sent someone to check - the lower passages. Thylda declined to go, but Arin sat out with him.

Down there, they saw piles of chipped granite, blocking the supports for this single mining area. They collected some pickaxes and lanterns still lying around, as well a few bits and pieces. But then Arniche stumbled across something in a shaft under a heavy rock...

"What the..." - he looked in the hole with amazement. Arin went closer to check with his lantern. What was in it, left him awed as well...

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Alt 11-15-2008, 21:11   #7
cronus power
The Unpredictable
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Registriert seit: Sep 2008
Ort: Australia... so im on when this place is silent
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 44
RPG Character: Arniche Whitewind

Arniche reached in, his long arm only just grabbing the item. He pulled it out gentler than one would expect, once out Arin dusted the object off so that it glistened in the sun. "Beautiful..." they said in unison, staring down at the hilt, in awe of its intricacy. As Arniche turned it over in his fingers to get a better look they heard Thylda call out to them, they had lost track of time and the sun was beginning to sink. “Keep or leave it?” Arniche said hurriedly. “Keep it...” was Arin’s reply, Arniche scrambled back to the entrance before looking back at the dwarf “come on!”
“Wait...” Arin grabbed a small leather pouch that was also just within the shaft. They left, Arin to Thylda, Arniche to his team
“Ok boys, as we are travelling with a lady I expect you to behave yourselves, I also expect you to be fully alert, on guard... Grab your weapons boys, this trip has a higher chance of ‘Encounters’ than the previous ones, and you all know how they turned out” all 9 bowed their heads for a moment. “Ok boys lets.... Hold on, who packed the wolf trap, we don’t wanna forget it again do we?”. A heavily bearded dwarf raised his hand, And so they set off.
“Are you sure you want to travel at night?” Thylda hesitated

“The beastmen around here aren’t nocturnal ma’am, we’ll be safer travelling at night” Arniche swiftly replied

“And what about us? We’re not nocturnal either?”

“Good point, but we’ve already packed. And the smell of unsweated meat has a habit of attracting wolf packs.” Arniche grinned, he relished manual work, he had Korale pulling the heaviest of the carts, and his crew in pairs pulling the other 4.

“So-“Arin spoke up again finally “-where’d you get the bear, I don’t remember him being with you when you were at skarvigs?”

“Ahh, there your wrong my clean-shaven little friend, master skarvig hates moving meat, Korale had to stay at home. As for why he hasn’t killed me yet. He’s my cub, I was with my father on a hunting trip and felt horrible when he was orphaned, I’m the closest to family he has.” A glisten was seen in his eye for a second before he wiped it away. “That was an amazing find back there wasn’t it?”
Thylda had a puzzled look upon her face, So Arin and Arniche set forth explaining it to her.
The moon had peaked when Arin called for a rest, the hot night was not something he had expected. He was sweating like a troll in the desert, and panting like one too. The miners set about setting up a perimeter of what looked like tent poles set into a decagon.

Sleep came easily to all of them, all but Arin who wondered really what it was they were hauling along. Eventually he blinked the time away, one moment peak night, next dawn. So many questions, so many years gone, how good a smith was Arniche now, had he surpassed him? Was the time with red’s pack all Arniche needed to catch up?
Arniche was obviously a morning man. Packed and ready to go, mind racing, he didn’t want to wake the others, he’d already explored the area ahead, all clear, or so it seemed. His thoughts were now fixed on something he had heard at the cliffhawk mansion... Who is ‘red’?
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Alt 11-16-2008, 11:18   #8
Celestial Scholar
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Registriert seit: Jan 2006
Ort: Magnet Stones
Beiträge: 412
RPG Character: Arin Cliffhawk
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Arin wandered around the campsite shortly before setting off towards their final destination. But at the peremiter, he found something unusual... three Beastmen were lying dead, impaled by huge adamant spears. Arin checked the symbol on them, and sure enough, it was Cliffhawk. Guess this time they were protected, not just watched. Whoever put in a good word for them, surely deserves a tip of the hat.

They pushed on without further ado and eventually reached the meeting spot. Rosa greeted them with a slight bow, but her expression was grieving.

"You came at a bad time. The vicinity is surrounded by dwarven elités. They murdered my scholar crew, then set off into defensive positions all around the camp. I'm afraid they will be back shortly."

"Grah..." - Arin spat - "Arm yourselves!"

"How could this happen?" - Thylda glared at the bloody surroundings, corpses everywhere, blood on the crates and tents.

"I think we will find out later." - Arniche stood ready. But minutes passed, and nothing happened. Then he started to doubt. - "Are you sure theyre still around?"

"Yes, they left last night down towards you came from."

"What?" - Arin muttered and headed towards the medicinal cart. He peeked in, but then a heavy knuckle reached out and punched him. Arin resisted the attack and prevented his nose from being broken. - "I knew you'd use the same old tactic, boys! What's this all about?" - he shouted in the air - "Who paid you to do this?!"

"What is it? What is in there?" - Rosa queried and approached the cart, staff drawn. Thylda drew her runic dagger, which sprakled of some green energy and also came closer. Arniche stood where he was, and unsheathed his hammer.

But at the next second, the medicine cart started to nudge, and four dwarves, armed from top to bottom, exited the cart. Their armor was all messy, covered with broken glass and the gelatinous substances those glasses had contained. Thylda screamed at this insane sight and thoght she will go crazy. Rosa calmed her down.

"Well, whoever asked you to do this, can be happy. Your... "mission" is complete. Now do it!"

"No! Those rotten Cliffhawks deserve to die!" - Thylda shouted all she could muster from her throat

"No..." - Rosa pat Thylda on the shoulder - "...there is no need to senselessly waste lives. They did evil deeds, but I am sure they will be punished."

"Not really..." - Arin smacked his fat face - "This is a suicidal sabotage squad they sent. Their only goal and purpouse was to wreck the load we had. And they did their job. Now they'll commit suicide. Just wait and see." - when he finished his sentence, the dwarves started to feel dizzy and moved around like they were drunk. - "They feed such squads with debilitating liquids that are slow, but potent poisons. They time the effect of these posions so that they will peak out once the mission is complete. They are nothing more but diddling, decaying corpses. But just tell us one thing..." - he turned to one of the sabotagers - "Who sent you?"

"Brother..." - he muttered - "It was...a dark...elf...called...Ba...Baisal dak'Saran. He works with...with Der..." - he couldn't finish his speech, he already died inside.

Arin knew everything. Derrak was on their trail. He guessed he wanted to make his life miserable as well. Any member of the HEAD will surely come to deal with Derrak. He felt he couldn't tell his allies, this was his quarrel, and his quarrel only. He had to reach Red and the others as soon as possible, and warn them. Derrak was bad enough, but Baisal is another ache in the back. He needs to be dealt with. How could they be persuaded by him?

"Let's clean up this mess!" - he bellowed - "There might be more of my brethren approaching! We must make for Greydusk vale, now!"

**cronus Continue**

Geändert von Free Flinker (11-24-2008 um 03:21 Uhr).
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Alt 11-16-2008, 12:03   #9
cronus power
The Unpredictable
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Registriert seit: Sep 2008
Ort: Australia... so im on when this place is silent
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 44
RPG Character: Arniche Whitewind
Arniche set to work, cleaning with haste. After which he approached one of his crew, a dwarf with quite a large set of hair “it is time zal. Can I trust you?” the dwarf nodded and signalled the team and they set off alone... Arniche then re-unsheathed his hammer and used it and some nails to attach one of the dwarf corpses to a tree, he then pulled a very angry and puzzled Thylda

“whats going on?” she asked as he turned her to face the dwarf. He placed the hammer in her hands and made sure she gripped it tightly.

“Prove you’re not a monster, prove yourself” he stepped back as she forward. Lifting the warhammer high above her head with a strain. She slammed it into the tree above its head, she wasn’t violent, but she needed relief.

After a few minutes of pounding at a tree she announced she was ready to leave. Arin was busy checking for traps while Arniche was pestering Rosa for some magic scrolls...

“Please, I’m only asking for some you know off by heart!”

“What for? Are you a mage?”

“Far from it lady, I’ve never cast a spell in my life”

“A merchant then”

“Not at all, I’m simply a collector ma’am.” Suddenly the smith changed his tune “I apologise my lady; it seems you do not trust me, and we are ready to move on, I would be happy if you, BOTH of you, could join us?” They agreed. The 5 moved on through the portal.
Through the portal the land was transformed, the trees they ventured from have given way to dust and broken shadows. greydusk is a very, very different place, a place that made the bear korale quite nervous.

Arniche now had his hammer away and his staff out.

“You said you’re not a mage!” Rosa said with spite.

“I’m not, this is simply my preferred weapon as it has many uses”. Rosa was still not convinced, she did not like this man, he’s to quick thinking to be an inherit blacksmith, she could swear he was of a magic family.

Arniche drew out the hilt as they walked, By appearance it hadn’t ever been attached to a blade, which he could understand. It would take a master weaponsmith to craft a blade magnificent enough to do it justice. Shadows seemed to shift inside the centre jewel, at times it was a pale yellow, at others a deep and rich violet.
As time passed his mind wandered, he began to worry about his miners, would they make it to the new site? Would they survive the horrors he saw as he and Zal first stumbled forth upon it. Demons and serpents, great monstrous beings with hissing braids of hair, whose gaze could freeze a man to death... will they make it? Mulandir is treterous, it has fell many an adventurer, and even slowed the rune warrior. He had to keep reminding himself that the mine was really close to the portal, that they wouldn’t have to go very far.... but it was whether or not they returned that worried him... he wishes he may never see Zal’s face again!

A 3 way fork in the road, Arin knew the way and directed them, he was taking them to where he last knew the HEAD was, but he wasn’t sure if they’d all make it.
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Alt 11-25-2008, 18:21   #10
Mockingbird Hydromancer
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Registriert seit: Feb 2006
Ort: Frostheart Forest
Alter: 26
Beiträge: 70
RPG Character: Mitko
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Mitko touched her entire body with his eyes like he had so many times before. The sheer esthetical joy of that couldn’t fit into words, at least in words he knew. The perfect features of her face and shape of her body… Every time he saw her like this something in him just...moved. Every time he could relish her body, that he doubted even Ellen could match he lost the ability to talk. Every time he could just look at this like this he understood what heaven would feel like…she lunged forward halving the distance between them in what seemed like an instant…

Every time he faced her in battle he knew his abilities would be brought to the limit…he grasped his swords and blocked her first attack with both of them, stopping the overhead swipe that would split his skull in two then quickly tried to disarm her with a sword spin. She however read his intention well and quickly god her sword out of the deadlock, making a step back and then quickly attacking him from the left, where his blades stopped hers just a few centimeters away from his stomach. She quickly made a full spin and attacked him from the side again. This time her blade cut through air and she had to duck to avoid a decapitating strike from the Dark Elf’s left blade and then quickly block the attack that from his right blade that would have pinned her to the ground. She jumped backwards and so did her adversary.

A small smirk appeared on his face as he returned to his combat stance, left blade over his head and right one placed horizontally on the level of his heart. His adversary on the other hand stood ready with her blade standing horizontally at the level of her waist. To anyone but those two the pause would seem like a split second…then Mitko attacked and another flurry of blows cut the air around the two, neither managing to hit the other. With a brief pause between every round they fought for over a minute, neither managing to gain the upper hand. Then after an especially long pause it started. This time neither backed down, the room became heavy with the sound of clashing swords and quick footsteps as the two elves exchanged courtesies. In the end however Mitko’s made one swing that left what would seem like an unnoticeable opening in his defense yet his adversary took advantage of it…the blow struck the air out of Mit’s lungs and before he knew it he received a brutal hit on the head, that sent him on the ground.

Oline smiled and threw her wooden sword on the ground, kneeling next to her “grounded” opponent.

“I win!” She said with the joy of a little girl that just received a toy.

“So I noticed…” Mitko replied with his nose still on the floor of the training ground. He wasn’t planning on getting up before the world stopped spinning.

“You’ve been letting out.” The Light Elf said as her voice became more serious.

“…don’t think you had to make it this obvious…” the Dark Elf growled as he checked the floor under his face for any blood. None, thank Nor she hadn’t broken his nose…even though judging by the pain she wasn’t that far from it…

“Oh yes I do. I’m not giving you permission to go after Sybilla until you’re at least as good as I am.” She said almost angrily. “And to get back at you for rushing ahead without proper support” The Dark Elf could read in Oline’s eyes.

“And do I need your permission?” He asked her mockingly.

“Would you leave without it?” Her question made him sigh…she was right, he wasn’t a match for Sybilla, wounded or not. She had almost killed her, and he wasn’t the kind to rush into something unprepared…Oline knew that all too well…she knew him all too well actually.

“I guess not…what’s to be done here?” He asked her calmly as he mustered all his available strength to get up without showing signs of weakness. Except for the fact he seemed about as stable as an orcish construction and felt a strong urge to meet the ground again it worked.
Oline smiled again. “You could always help with sentry duty, tower perimeters are cute and all but someone to keep an eye on their construction in the area would be quite useful. I’ll find you when I think you’re ready for another fight…and don’t go climbing anything please.” She finished, laughing…Mit joined in.

It was refreshing to see Oline again, and even more so to fight her again, even if she had pulled ahead. No matter he was going to catch up to her, and then take care of that murdering sister of Derrak’s. And he was planning to train his crossbow skills too, but that would have to wait for now.

* * * Continue * * *
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Alt 11-25-2008, 21:52   #11
cronus power
The Unpredictable
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Registriert seit: Sep 2008
Ort: Australia... so im on when this place is silent
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 44
RPG Character: Arniche Whitewind

They sat down complaining about hunger, Arniche simply grinned and grabbed out of the cart a large iron bear trap which he laid down upon the ground.
“Are you kidding me? Are you expecting to have a bear just waltz in here and offer itself to us for dinner” Arin was obviously in a bad mood due to his hunger. He wasn’t the only one, taking this into consideration Arniche didn’t hesitate to strike the trap with his staff.
In the few seconds following, a blur of magic confused all not use to it. As the trap began snapping shut, a wolf was summoned into it, the trap closed with a bone crunching thud around the poor beasts neck before it even had the chance to breath. “it was never really alive, so it really felt no pain” Arniche said justifyingly.
After a deliciously prepared meal by the now even more mysterious smith, they leaned back for a relaxing sleep.

Arin heard voices in the night; he slid his eyes open simply a fraction to see Arniche arguing with a group of dark elves... “They are fugitives, especially the dwarf, which makes you a fugitive also as your travelling with them” the authoritive elf began.

“You dark elves are real idiots aren’tcha! I know they’re fugitives! Where do think I’m taking them!”

“how can we believe you?”

“how can you... Nor have mercy on my soul! LOOK” was arniche’s response as he showed them a tattoo on his shoulder that Arin couldn’t manage to make out.

“OH, my apologies general! We believed the army was simply dark races”

“Shows what you know! He’s been branching out into new areas. Now, I’m suppose to take this lot to the camp of the HEAD, because that’s the next target.... do you know where I may find it?”

“Yes sir, we were placed here to find and monitor the camp, we can take you to it”

“Good, good. No doubt this lot will have heard me; do you have anything i can use to tie them up so they don’t fight back?”

“Of course, here you go” the dark elf leader grinned. He handed the ropes to Arniche, who proceeded to tie up his companions. Arin cursed himself for believing Arniche was an honest man.

When the rest of the group were tied up, Arniche gave them all a hard kick and ordered them to stand up and get moving “come on, let’s go. That’s right, you going straight to the lords next target.” Arniche was suddenly unforgiving and menacingly angry. The dark elf group began leading them along, one of which though hung back so as to speak to Arniche in private.
“umm, sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why weren’t they tied up before?”

“Because I had no need to tie them up, they believed I was their friend, anyway. None of them would want to mess with a man of my size, and my bear” he said grinning, back at the line. The order the prisoners walked in was; Thylda, Arin and then rosa, with Korale walking gruffly behind them whilst dragging the cart. “say, young warlock, you wouldn’t happen to have any quartzwater back at that camp of yours would you?”

“As a matter of fact sir, I think I may. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why, run back and grab me a good 4 Litres and I can guarantee a promotion coming your way”

“REALLY, thank you sir, I’ll be right back!” the elf ran off down the hill to their east, excitedly, Arniche all the while keeping his eyes on him, he even saw the young warlock enter the very well concealed camp. He now turned his attention to the leader of the troupe. “say, I was just wondering”- he had to trot to bring himself equal to the fast walking elf -“ your camp wouldn’t happen to be the only one in this area would it?”

“As a matter of fact sir it is, we are expecting another group to join us on the other side of the HEAD’s camp in 20moons time”

“thanks, good to know that... how far off are we?”

“Not far now, where about shall we leave you, we don’t want to alert them to our presence just yet.”

“Oh, the closest spot you can before they see you would be perfect.” Arniche then proceeded to slow down so he was walking alongside Arin yet again. A massive grin on his face, the dwarf spat at him in anger, to which Arniche responded to by gagging all the hostages.

A while later the convoy stopped “we’re here, we can’t go any further with you.”

“that is quite ok, get back to camp... and not a word of this to anybody, you hear?”
“of course sir” they all chanted before running back down the path and away. Arniche sat with the hostages for a while longer, eventually the young warlock returned with the quartzwater, “Here you go sir, your 4 litres of quartzwater”
“good, place it in the cart... GENTLY!” he strained as the warlock lowered the medicine in “Now, about your promotion...-“ he said, and without flinching, without a change of tone or pace, Arniche swung his staff around and struck the excited elf across the head, knocking him out cold. He then bound and gag the limp body and stashed it in the cart...
They approached the gate of the camp. Arniche knocked on the gate with an obviously fake-pain vigour “help!!! We’re free traders on our way from the windwalls, we got attacked and need medical attention.......”

The gate swung open and Arniche colllapsed onto the man who had, "get them in, help them, not me" he said before passing out

*****Continue Anyone*****
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Alt 12-01-2008, 21:00   #12
Mockingbird Hydromancer
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Registriert seit: Feb 2006
Ort: Frostheart Forest
Alter: 26
Beiträge: 70
RPG Character: Mitko
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A warm welcome

The sun slowly rose over the walls of the camp…as much as they could be called that, simple wooden poles put side by side that wouldn’t probably even last after an attack from a troll put there to make sure no visitors came by uninvited rather than to stop any attack… and Mitko felt his strength decrease. Night was his time, the time of his race and of his god, so there was a feeling of loss as the sun rouse, one that hadn’t left him since he was a child. This feeling of loss explained to him why humans loved the sun so much better than words ever could. Yet still he was amused. In the end the sun didn’t give them power, it just washed away a part of their weakness…how pathetic…suddenly the sound of a launched arrow got him out of his thought. With surprise he looked at the towers, however he couldn’t tell which one had fired, but soon another two followed it, and another…soon a quarter of the camp’s towers were awake. Mitko didn’t bother wondering what was going on and by the time three towers had opened fire he had scaled the ladder of one of the towers and looked out of the camp. A man with the physique of a smith who held two unconscious women on his shoulders and a dwarf were heading toward them, looking quite tired and followed by a bear that was dragging some crate in what seemed like a dwarf construction cart with a lid. The cart was already beginning to look like a hedgehog. The sentries had also noticed the commotion and a formation of men moved in front of the gate, crossbows and bows armed and ready to give an unpleasant welcome to any hostile who tried to pass through.
“What’s coming?” One of them shouted to a light elf that had climbed up another watchtower.

“Humans! And a Dwarf! Open the gate!” She shouted at the same moment as the smith knocked at the door and shouted
“Help!! We’re free traders on our way from the windwalls, we got attacked and need medical attention...” None of the humans heard him. The arrows made sure of that, but the door opened anyway.

The bulk of a man made a few steps into the camp and fell on the ground, while pushing the women off his shoulders.

“Get them in; help them, not me…” The man said so silently that only Mitko heard him this time. His head was just a foot away from the norcaine’s feet and the dark elf quickly checked the human’s pulse. He was exhausted but not in danger.

“Get him in a cell.” He heard a slightly familiar dwarven voice. When he looked up he was face to face with the one dwarf he’d never forget. The one that had almost cracked his skull when they first met. No one fudged; they just kept their aim on the dwarf and his party, mostly on the crate and the bear that was pulling it which on its end paid them no mind.

“What are you waiting for, get them all in cells!” Oline shouted a moment later, as she left the HEAD headquarters. “Dwarf included!”

“What are you saying, you elvish…” Arin started but didn’t manage to finish as a brutal hit on the head a crossbow sent him on the ground, out cold.

"Perhaps you shouldn't do that Sister, Circe said she trusts them..." Mitko whispered to her.

"I guess you're right...put him in a room with a guard up front, just in case" She ordered.

Mitko felt little empathy for the dwarf or the rest of the group, still Oline’s coldness once again surprised him. He would do the same thing, but he was he…
The Assassin didn’t join the guards that brought the prisoners in though, but instead headed to the crate that had since been moved out of the tower’s range, keeping his eyes on the bear. Step by step he got closer to it, cold sweat on his forehead, ready to avoid an attack from the bear. Which seemed about as interested in him as it was in the field of magic discussions regarding the philosophical status of fireballs. Its most threatening act towards him was a yawn, as it calmly lay down on its front paws, obviously planning to take a nap. Yet still he couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relief as he touched the pierced by arrows cart’s lid and opened it. He wasn’t really surprised to see one of his kinsmen in it. A warlock as his clothes showed, however the two soldiers that had walked after him almost screamed in surprise and one of them aimed his crossbow. Mitko put his hand on the man’s hand.

“Stop it, idiot, we’ve got another prisoner here. Get him into a cell, and get some wizards to protect him. This one’s as dangerous as they get.” He said. The men looked at him in and then at each other with what Mit would describe as a dumb expression only a creature with a lifespan of less than half a century could make, however Oline once again saved the day.

“Do as he says, morons!” She shouted from close behind and the two men instantly took the warlock out of the crate like their lives depended on that and with four more battle ready crossbowmen they proceeded in bringing him in with the unique combination of gentleness and suspicion with which one handled fragile and highly volatile explosives. However they had only crossed half the distance to the door when Lev came out. At first he didn’t seem to pay the carriers much mind as he headed for Oline, but when they passed him by and he noticed the warlock his eyes became so wide Mitko almost smiled.

“A warlock? Here?” Someone was obviously well informed about his kinmens’ ways.

“Follow me!” He said to the still half-panicked crossbowmen. They followed him like a beacon of light.

Oline smiled. “Ready for another defeat, while we wait for our guests to get back on their feet, Brother?” She whispered to him in an amused tone. Mitko smiled, as he followed her toward the training room.

Geändert von Mit (12-01-2008 um 21:23 Uhr).
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Alt 12-01-2008, 21:56   #13
cronus power
The Unpredictable
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Registriert seit: Sep 2008
Ort: Australia... so im on when this place is silent
Alter: 28
Beiträge: 44
RPG Character: Arniche Whitewind
The room Arin landed in wasn’t far from a cell, literately, he could hear the prisoners in the cell block behind him. He sat angrily in the room, waiting whomever would join him. “Rosa? Thylda? Either of you there???” he yelled at the back wall... “I’m here-“returned the voice of Thylda “- we both are, but Rosa doesn’t seem to well, she’s really pale and won’t make a sound”
“I’ll try and get help” Arin replied as the door to his ‘room’ opened...
Arniche was sitting in the badly made cell, “Human workmanship, most definitely... how pathetic is this?” he wondered to himself. As he sat there trying to make sense of why he’d been thrown in gail a guard walked past, checking the state of the prisoners... Arniche ran to the bars “YO DUDE, yea you... listen, i don’t know if you can see her, or even if you care, but that woman over there looks dangerously sick”
“i know, our Healers have already had a look at her, she needs quartz water, but we don’t have any and we can’t get any”
“Well then how bout you get her to a nice bed... AND GET THE WATER OUT OF ME CART!!!!!” he yelled at the guard who promptly hit him on the head with the hilt of his sword. Arniche pretended to pass out, because he didn’t want to much attention here. He eventually drifted off to sleep, it’d been a while since he’d gotten a good rest. When he awoke he was in what he could only assume was an interrogation room.
Arin downed the pint with ease. It was good to be in a friendly place, he was still angry that he let a man like that slip through, how could he not see the tattoo?? Red dropped his glass down by the dwarf’s “so, where’ve you been, and who’s this man that brought you in?” he inquired with a grin.
“You mean the traitor? The one in league with a massive ‘dark race army’” he spat, remembering the conversations he overheard “I thought he was a friend, somebody i could trust... I was wrong... something good did come of finding out what he was-“ his cut-off was unintentional
“What? What came of it my stout friend?” red pressured... but Arin ran off curious
Arniche was getting sick of these questions: who are you? What do you want? Where’d you come from? He couldn’t understand how they hadn’t heard him when he shouted at the gate... as the dagger was being pulled along his leather-hard skin a fourth time the door swung open and Arin ran to him; grabbing his shirt he demanded an answer “It doesn’t add up! Why, if you were sent to condemn us would you trick a fellow soldier? Why would you need to tell him about a promotion, JUST to hit him over the head?!?!?!”
“I would like to go back to my cell please, at least there people are nice to me, ‘coz there is nobody there! not even Rosa or Thylda” he remarked and was taken back to his cell, the interrogators only learning that another dark elf croup was due to arrive in 20 moons “What’d he mean by no-one’s there?” arin asked curiously.
“He wouldn’t tell us anything unless we let 3 other prisoners go, the two he mentioned, and you.”
Why would he do something like that arin wondered as he trotted off to find the others of the group... As he ran he rounded a corner and found himself face to face with Korale “nice bear, happy bear......”
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