Der-draigen stood in the corridor silently chuckling to herself. She had been completely forgotten about. Such was the lot of halflings, she supposed...But she was concerned. Something had happened to the wolves, and they had turned and fled from whatever it was before she could tell them to return to the den. She mentally checked in, and found that some had been slain, but the rest were under cover. "Stay there, then," she told them. "I have no need of you at present. Take no unnecessary risks."
She peeked into the room where the unconscious man was. Things seemed to be under control, so she decided to use this opportunity to try to learn all she could about whatever force was menacing the keep. Perhaps it could be bargained with; or if not, then surely reckoned with -- but only if she knew what exactly it was...
She wandered into the kitchen, where the woman called Dragon Wench and a man whose name Der-draigen still didn't know, were cuddled up very comfortably. Der-draigen did another interior eye-roll. But she plowed on.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, rather more loudly than was necessary. "I'm sorry to intrude...."
Just for good effect, she began hesitantly backing out of the room, hoping for an invitation. Especially with all the very old casks she saw lying about...
The Order of the Dark Flame: Book 5. (story, no spam)
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Der-draigen
- Posts: 571
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2002 11:00 pm
- Location: A nice place in New England
- Contact:
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dragon wench
- Posts: 19609
- Joined: Tue Apr 24, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: The maelstrom where chaos merges with lucidity
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Startled at the halfling's sudden exclamation, Dragon Wench jumped. Realising that Alreth Barrowden had been quietly observing them, she flushed, and then managed a smile, offering her hand in formal greeting. Stepping forward, Jerren did the same, introducing himself as he did so.
Somewhat awkwardly the three of them stood in the kitchen gazing nervously at one another and the numerous casks of wine now littering the floor.
Finally, Dragon Wench searched through her various pockets and found a cork screw. With a triumphant flourish she brandished it in the air and proceded to uncork the nearest bottle of wine.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: dragon wench ]
Somewhat awkwardly the three of them stood in the kitchen gazing nervously at one another and the numerous casks of wine now littering the floor.
Finally, Dragon Wench searched through her various pockets and found a cork screw. With a triumphant flourish she brandished it in the air and proceded to uncork the nearest bottle of wine.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: dragon wench ]
Spoiler
testingtest12
Spoiler
testingtest12
T’lainya was glad to be back at the keep near her friends. She was slightly bemused at all of the strangers gathered in the room. She surveyed each briefly, imprinting the features in her mind. She raised her hand to the young elf in the traditional greeting. She smiled at the red-haired woman near her and at the halfling woman who was engaged in healing an armor-clad man. She watched with interest as the healing was done, listening intently as Nippy recounted the battle with the banshee. She frowned slightly as she listened; the very air of the keep seemed stale and musty. She shivered slightly and politely excused herself. She started towards the stairs to see if Thantor had any ideas on how to help Yshania’s predicament. She headed up the stairs alert to a strong hostility that seemed to emanate from the walls of the keep. She felt the holy symbol around her neck tingle and she wondered what could be causing the feeling. She knocked on the door, calling out.
“Thantor? Yshania? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Thantor? Yshania? Is there anything I can do to help?”
[url="http://www.gamebanshee.com"]GameBanshee[/url] Make your gaming scream!
"I have seen them/I have watched them all fall/I have been them/I have watched myself crawl"
"I will only complicate you/Trust in me and fall as well"
"Quiet time...no more whine"
"I have seen them/I have watched them all fall/I have been them/I have watched myself crawl"
"I will only complicate you/Trust in me and fall as well"
"Quiet time...no more whine"
The elven ranger, Aegis he though his name was, and "Nippy" the Paladin surged past Farscape. Seemingly unaware of his presence.
"What the blazes..."
Still, no notice. When they carried the armoured man by, the mans blade shone a light blue, driving a surge of hatred through his breast.
Forcing the darkness back down, he ditached himself from the world. The scent of slaughtered undead eminated from the unconscious man. Sighing, The Knight Errant drew his cloak around him and sat down by the hearth, focusing on its flickering light, its purity, to fight back the demons within.
"What the blazes..."
Still, no notice. When they carried the armoured man by, the mans blade shone a light blue, driving a surge of hatred through his breast.
Forcing the darkness back down, he ditached himself from the world. The scent of slaughtered undead eminated from the unconscious man. Sighing, The Knight Errant drew his cloak around him and sat down by the hearth, focusing on its flickering light, its purity, to fight back the demons within.
The waves came crashing in like blindness.
So I just stood and listened.
So I just stood and listened.
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Bloodstalker
- Posts: 15512
- Joined: Wed Apr 18, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: Hell if I know
- Contact:
( well, no one objected when I gave you the chance....takes deep breath)
The morning was calm, a quiet scene of tranquility the likes of which even the most gifted of bards would have difficulty in describing. A small stream flowed restlessley in it's bed, sinuously playing against it's banks and the occasional boulder or the various green plant life that broke it's surface, which forced the water to part and meet again in an intricate dance of currents and counter currents.
A gentle breeze whispered it's soft seranade throught the trees, flowing down to carress the tall grass that gave way willingly in dance to the age old melody. The peaceful surroundings did much to ease the mind of the lone figure who sat, back against a great oak, staring out across the open meadow.
Ease his mind, but not quite drive away the horror of the images that had occupied his mind the night before, he reminded himself.
Shaking his head as if to clear the memories of the dreams, in the process sending his dark, shoulderlength hair flying about his tanned and weatherbeaten face, he rose to his full height, just two inches shy of six feet. His leather armor shifted silently across his lean but solid frame as he stretched. He cursed himself for delaying so long. Whatever hope he had held out of reaching his deastination before summer ended was gone now, driven away by the chill that had begun to creep into the morning hours. Winter would be upon him soon, and he still had far to go.
His bluegray eyes swept across last nights camp, and he considered his dwindling supplies. For a moment he regretted not stopping at the last settlement, then grimly remembered that settlements meant civilization, and that meant the presence of magic. Whether practiced by Mages or Clerics, spells were a part of everyday life in the realms. And while in the years since his ordeal he had learnned to tolerate the toll that the weaving of such powers had on his system, there were still limits. He was able now to enjoy the company of the occasional shaman or druid, as long as they were not large in number. he had even wintered one year in the company of the druid Cernd, and had enjoyed the company immensly. However, the large numbers of magic users in the larger settlement taxed him too heavily.
No, he would hunt what he needed, as he had done in the years since his time in the Chamber. The thought of the Chamber, and the years of having his body and mind violated by dark magic to the point that he could now feel when a spell was being woven, and experience pain from the feeling, turned his eyes cold as steel. He thought of all he had lost there, how he was forced to live his life as a consequece, and began breaking camp. Sheathing his prized bastard sword, Striker, so called because of it's tendancy to be able to strike through certain of mages defences, he resumed his journey.
He was under now illusions. He knew not whether he would succeed or fail. And, as he had discovered in the time since he began on his current path, he didn't care.
Bloodstalker smiled grimly as he walked. Either way, he would live in fear no more.
(sorry about the length, just an introduction)
The morning was calm, a quiet scene of tranquility the likes of which even the most gifted of bards would have difficulty in describing. A small stream flowed restlessley in it's bed, sinuously playing against it's banks and the occasional boulder or the various green plant life that broke it's surface, which forced the water to part and meet again in an intricate dance of currents and counter currents.
A gentle breeze whispered it's soft seranade throught the trees, flowing down to carress the tall grass that gave way willingly in dance to the age old melody. The peaceful surroundings did much to ease the mind of the lone figure who sat, back against a great oak, staring out across the open meadow.
Ease his mind, but not quite drive away the horror of the images that had occupied his mind the night before, he reminded himself.
Shaking his head as if to clear the memories of the dreams, in the process sending his dark, shoulderlength hair flying about his tanned and weatherbeaten face, he rose to his full height, just two inches shy of six feet. His leather armor shifted silently across his lean but solid frame as he stretched. He cursed himself for delaying so long. Whatever hope he had held out of reaching his deastination before summer ended was gone now, driven away by the chill that had begun to creep into the morning hours. Winter would be upon him soon, and he still had far to go.
His bluegray eyes swept across last nights camp, and he considered his dwindling supplies. For a moment he regretted not stopping at the last settlement, then grimly remembered that settlements meant civilization, and that meant the presence of magic. Whether practiced by Mages or Clerics, spells were a part of everyday life in the realms. And while in the years since his ordeal he had learnned to tolerate the toll that the weaving of such powers had on his system, there were still limits. He was able now to enjoy the company of the occasional shaman or druid, as long as they were not large in number. he had even wintered one year in the company of the druid Cernd, and had enjoyed the company immensly. However, the large numbers of magic users in the larger settlement taxed him too heavily.
No, he would hunt what he needed, as he had done in the years since his time in the Chamber. The thought of the Chamber, and the years of having his body and mind violated by dark magic to the point that he could now feel when a spell was being woven, and experience pain from the feeling, turned his eyes cold as steel. He thought of all he had lost there, how he was forced to live his life as a consequece, and began breaking camp. Sheathing his prized bastard sword, Striker, so called because of it's tendancy to be able to strike through certain of mages defences, he resumed his journey.
He was under now illusions. He knew not whether he would succeed or fail. And, as he had discovered in the time since he began on his current path, he didn't care.
Bloodstalker smiled grimly as he walked. Either way, he would live in fear no more.
(sorry about the length, just an introduction)
Lord of Lurkers
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
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Maharlika
- Posts: 5991
- Joined: Sun Aug 05, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: Wanderlusting with my lampshade, like any decent k
- Contact:
He finally awakens.
"Whoah, that was some dream there!" he thought to himself. But the moment he moved, he heard the clink of his armor beneath the comfortable blanket (hmmm... strange material...). (It was not a dream!)
He initially sees a man with noble bearing (sensing a kindred spirit) and a ... strange angel-like man with pointy ears and silver-blonde hair.
Unconsciously he asked, "Sino kayo?" (Who are you?) "Nasaan ako?" (Where am I?)
The men looked at him quizzically, their eyebrows meeting. Then they looked at each other, talking in a language Maharlika doesn't understand.
He could only make an intelligent guess what they were talking about.
Maharlika then rose up, armor and all, and sees his helm nearby. As he stood up he realized that both men were taller than him. The angel-man with the pointy ears is just a wee bit taller but the noble-looking man seems at least a half-foot taller.
For the first time in his life, he felt fear. Fear not of losing one's life, but fear of the unknown. Where is he?!!! Where is Maegenhelm? What happened at the Temple?
He remembers then the battle with the dogs and recognized that his wounds were well taken cared of.
With this, he unsheathed his sword to offer a gesture of thanks (which gave the strangers an alarmed surprise!).
Embarrassed by the effect of his initial action, he quickly kneeled in front of the taller man with Deathstryke's pointed blade on the ground, hands and forehead on the pommel.
Then he noticed a slight tinge of blue emanating from the blade. An enemy is about, but seemed so near yet so far. He knows though that the beings right before him are not his foes.
He suddenly heard grumbling --- his stomach was yearning for sustenance! With an embarrassed smile, he saw that the two men reciprocated with amused grin and understood what his stomach needed.
On a side note, he remembered the metal collar that he got from the dead animal.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Maharlika ]
"Whoah, that was some dream there!" he thought to himself. But the moment he moved, he heard the clink of his armor beneath the comfortable blanket (hmmm... strange material...). (It was not a dream!)
He initially sees a man with noble bearing (sensing a kindred spirit) and a ... strange angel-like man with pointy ears and silver-blonde hair.
Unconsciously he asked, "Sino kayo?" (Who are you?) "Nasaan ako?" (Where am I?)
The men looked at him quizzically, their eyebrows meeting. Then they looked at each other, talking in a language Maharlika doesn't understand.
He could only make an intelligent guess what they were talking about.
Maharlika then rose up, armor and all, and sees his helm nearby. As he stood up he realized that both men were taller than him. The angel-man with the pointy ears is just a wee bit taller but the noble-looking man seems at least a half-foot taller.
For the first time in his life, he felt fear. Fear not of losing one's life, but fear of the unknown. Where is he?!!! Where is Maegenhelm? What happened at the Temple?
He remembers then the battle with the dogs and recognized that his wounds were well taken cared of.
With this, he unsheathed his sword to offer a gesture of thanks (which gave the strangers an alarmed surprise!).
Embarrassed by the effect of his initial action, he quickly kneeled in front of the taller man with Deathstryke's pointed blade on the ground, hands and forehead on the pommel.
Then he noticed a slight tinge of blue emanating from the blade. An enemy is about, but seemed so near yet so far. He knows though that the beings right before him are not his foes.
He suddenly heard grumbling --- his stomach was yearning for sustenance! With an embarrassed smile, he saw that the two men reciprocated with amused grin and understood what his stomach needed.
On a side note, he remembered the metal collar that he got from the dead animal.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Maharlika ]
"There is no weakness in honest sorrow... only in succumbing to depression over what cannot be changed." --- Alaundo, BG2
Brother Scribe, Keeper of the Holy Scripts of COMM
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Seeing that the wounded stranger had been taken care off, Mysteria wandered of to finally find a bathroom. Looking around, she was startled to see yet another unknown man. He seemed lost in thought, so she didn't bother him. She didn't think that he was a Dark Flame though, so she alerted Nippy and the rest that there was a warrior sitting by the fire.
Continuing, she looked behind another door and saw Alreth, Dragon Wench and Jeren. She told them about the warroir too and asked directions to a spare room with a bath. Dragon Wench readily gave her directions.
Following Dragon Wench's instructions, she soon found a tidy guestroom. Dropping her quiver and bow onto the bed, she unbuckled her belt and went to the bathing room
Once inside, Mysteria locked the door and quickly got rid of all her clothes, keeping only one of the slender knives fastened to her forearms. Experience had taught her never ever to go unarmed, not even while bathing. But first, she washed her clothes and hung them to dry, though they would probably still be damp when she finished. Then she got herself into a big tub full of hot water. Seeing what she was up to, Fang hid himself under a wardrobe, making her laugh. He knew very well that if she took a bath, he'd probably have to take one too. She'd thrown him into rivers and ponds often enough for him to be wary. Well, it wasn't his turn yet. Mysteria undid the second knife from her forearm too and got into the deliciously hot water, slipping the knife at the bottom. Hmmm, it had been a long time since she got a real hot bath. Relaxing, she felt a little pang of guilt to be doing this in such troubled times, but then she put it out of mind and enjoyed her bath, watching the steam rise.
Slowly, she relaxed and the room filled with small, dancing lights. Looking at them, she smiled. At least she had never yet caused destruction being relaxed. After some time, the flow of magic finished and the lights winked out one by one. Sitting there, she began to ponder what had happened. So far, there had been two more newcomers to the keep and the whole situation had had her rather tense. She had been too worried about their reaction to an outsider just showing up like she did, but they had been very friendly, making her feel at ease. Her thoughts wandered to the banshee and the battle. She would have liked to help, but then they had been quite able at defending themselves. Shifting her shoulder, she remembered her own fight.
She had been soundly asleep when suddenly she heard Fang growl. Jumping onto her feet, she saw the earth heave and half a dozen sceletons rose all around her. Cursing, her weapons flew into her hands as she dodged one sceletons swing just as Fang leaped onto the one behind her. Beheading one of them with a quick strike her sword, she had come around just in time to take another down with a thrust of her dagger. She moved fast, but not fast enough as she barely escaped a strike aimed at her neck, the sword scratching her shoulder instead. With an angry growl, Fang brought down that sceleton, giving her the time to sunder the other into pieces. Looking at the mess she had made, she decided to find a different resting place after having looked after the cut on her shoulder. But as she moved further into the forest, moving as silently as possible, she soon found out that the whole forest seemed to teem with evil tonight. Twice more, she found a place where sceletons has risen from the ground. She also came across some odd tracks of huge footprints and apparently some dread wolves had passed the same way too. She had kept moving until sunrise and had only then slept.
And now she was here, where the evil seemed to be slowly concentrating. Turning her head, she took a look at the cut on her shoulder. It was healing well, a night more and she wouldn't feel it anymore. Slipping further down into the water, she closed her eyes and put her worries out of mind.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Mysteria ]
Continuing, she looked behind another door and saw Alreth, Dragon Wench and Jeren. She told them about the warroir too and asked directions to a spare room with a bath. Dragon Wench readily gave her directions.
Following Dragon Wench's instructions, she soon found a tidy guestroom. Dropping her quiver and bow onto the bed, she unbuckled her belt and went to the bathing room
Once inside, Mysteria locked the door and quickly got rid of all her clothes, keeping only one of the slender knives fastened to her forearms. Experience had taught her never ever to go unarmed, not even while bathing. But first, she washed her clothes and hung them to dry, though they would probably still be damp when she finished. Then she got herself into a big tub full of hot water. Seeing what she was up to, Fang hid himself under a wardrobe, making her laugh. He knew very well that if she took a bath, he'd probably have to take one too. She'd thrown him into rivers and ponds often enough for him to be wary. Well, it wasn't his turn yet. Mysteria undid the second knife from her forearm too and got into the deliciously hot water, slipping the knife at the bottom. Hmmm, it had been a long time since she got a real hot bath. Relaxing, she felt a little pang of guilt to be doing this in such troubled times, but then she put it out of mind and enjoyed her bath, watching the steam rise.
Slowly, she relaxed and the room filled with small, dancing lights. Looking at them, she smiled. At least she had never yet caused destruction being relaxed. After some time, the flow of magic finished and the lights winked out one by one. Sitting there, she began to ponder what had happened. So far, there had been two more newcomers to the keep and the whole situation had had her rather tense. She had been too worried about their reaction to an outsider just showing up like she did, but they had been very friendly, making her feel at ease. Her thoughts wandered to the banshee and the battle. She would have liked to help, but then they had been quite able at defending themselves. Shifting her shoulder, she remembered her own fight.
She had been soundly asleep when suddenly she heard Fang growl. Jumping onto her feet, she saw the earth heave and half a dozen sceletons rose all around her. Cursing, her weapons flew into her hands as she dodged one sceletons swing just as Fang leaped onto the one behind her. Beheading one of them with a quick strike her sword, she had come around just in time to take another down with a thrust of her dagger. She moved fast, but not fast enough as she barely escaped a strike aimed at her neck, the sword scratching her shoulder instead. With an angry growl, Fang brought down that sceleton, giving her the time to sunder the other into pieces. Looking at the mess she had made, she decided to find a different resting place after having looked after the cut on her shoulder. But as she moved further into the forest, moving as silently as possible, she soon found out that the whole forest seemed to teem with evil tonight. Twice more, she found a place where sceletons has risen from the ground. She also came across some odd tracks of huge footprints and apparently some dread wolves had passed the same way too. She had kept moving until sunrise and had only then slept.
And now she was here, where the evil seemed to be slowly concentrating. Turning her head, she took a look at the cut on her shoulder. It was healing well, a night more and she wouldn't feel it anymore. Slipping further down into the water, she closed her eyes and put her worries out of mind.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Mysteria ]
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."
"Not another one!" Nippy rolled his eyes, "Aegis, stay here and make sure this man doesn't go to far away, I have another new person to find."
Nippy came across him, and introduced himself to him.
"Welcome, my name is Nippy. You are welcome to stay and rest. I think now is the time to find out about everyone."
Nippy walked to the heavy gong in the kitchen. If the Flames thought food was coming, most of them would put a hole in the wall to get there quicker.
He hit the gong hard and the sound reverberated around the keep, calling all the new, and old people of the Flames to the kitchen.
They slowly arrived, the unknown speaker, Aegis, Mysteria was absent, but Dragon Wench told Nippy she was bathing...
Nippy came across him, and introduced himself to him.
"Welcome, my name is Nippy. You are welcome to stay and rest. I think now is the time to find out about everyone."
Nippy walked to the heavy gong in the kitchen. If the Flames thought food was coming, most of them would put a hole in the wall to get there quicker.
He hit the gong hard and the sound reverberated around the keep, calling all the new, and old people of the Flames to the kitchen.
They slowly arrived, the unknown speaker, Aegis, Mysteria was absent, but Dragon Wench told Nippy she was bathing...
Perverteer Paladin
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Der-draigen
- Posts: 571
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2002 11:00 pm
- Location: A nice place in New England
- Contact:
Der-draigen took the offered hands. "My name is Barrowden, Alreth Barrowden," she said with enthusiasm. "I thank you for your hospitality and assistance."
As Dragon Wench pulled out the corkscrew, Der-draigen smiled. "Those look like Elven casks. Very old, I'd say. Mmm...a hundred and fifty, most likely? Perfectly aged for Elven blackwine."
Dragon Wench and Jerren looked askance. Der-draigen laughed.
"Some cousins of mine run a winery way up in Gullykin," she said. "It's a bit of a hobby of mine, you might say." She laughed inside. Had they ever even heard of Elven blackwine? Did they even know what they had here?...
She took a seat and observed as the casks were opened. Careful, she thought. That's one precious commodity you've got there...
She cleared her throat softly. "I uh...I've heard the paladin...Nippy, I think his name was?...He said there was some trouble here? Maybe I could help? I have nothing else to offer for your kindness. Perhaps you could tell me a bit about your problem? I'd be glad and honored to do whatever I can..."
As Dragon Wench pulled out the corkscrew, Der-draigen smiled. "Those look like Elven casks. Very old, I'd say. Mmm...a hundred and fifty, most likely? Perfectly aged for Elven blackwine."
Dragon Wench and Jerren looked askance. Der-draigen laughed.
"Some cousins of mine run a winery way up in Gullykin," she said. "It's a bit of a hobby of mine, you might say." She laughed inside. Had they ever even heard of Elven blackwine? Did they even know what they had here?...
She took a seat and observed as the casks were opened. Careful, she thought. That's one precious commodity you've got there...
She cleared her throat softly. "I uh...I've heard the paladin...Nippy, I think his name was?...He said there was some trouble here? Maybe I could help? I have nothing else to offer for your kindness. Perhaps you could tell me a bit about your problem? I'd be glad and honored to do whatever I can..."
"I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened."
"So do all who live to see such times; but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you."
"So do all who live to see such times; but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you."
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Gwalchmai
- Posts: 6252
- Joined: Wed May 09, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: This Quintessence of Dust
- Contact:
As Gwalchmai returned to the kitchen to get a case of wine for the guests he overheard the halfling speaking. “I’m sure there is much you could do to help us in this time of need, Alreth,” Gwalchmai said from the door, “but we hardly know you nor any of these new arrivals. Surely you understand. I may call you Alreth, right? Or would you prefer ‘Ms. Barrowden’?” He grinned at her, and was awarded with a broad, winning smile. “Nothing like an open, honest smile,” Gwalchmai thought to himself, “and those eyes! So big, a man could lose himself, surely!” he shook himself out of his reverie of admiration and tried to return to the subject. “I saw you heal that stranger (yes, yes, the keep seems to be crawling with strangers these days 
), so I figure you must be some sort of Paladin, like our friend Mazzy Fentan?”
Before the halfling could answer, Nippy started banging on the gong, drowning out any further conversation.
), so I figure you must be some sort of Paladin, like our friend Mazzy Fentan?”Before the halfling could answer, Nippy started banging on the gong, drowning out any further conversation.
That there; exactly the kinda diversion we coulda used.
"Well, do you want me to get the door?" Yshania COMMunicated.
"No, I think I should get the door." Thantor replied.
"Why am I never allowed to get the door?" Yshania teased. Thantor sighed. "Ok, we will get the door together." They got up from the bed and opened the door to find T'lainya standing there, looking uncomfortable about something and concerned. Thantor raised his hand in traditional greeting, fighting the impulse from Yshania to reach out and hug their friend. "It is good to see you, T'lainya... and to have you back with us. Have you had a chance to refresh yourself?"
"I will shortly, Thantor, thank you," T'lainya said with a smile. She was pleased once again to experience the warmth of friendships too long set apart, and for a moment the dark sensations of the keep fell away. She noticed Yshania's pale body lying on the bed and turned to it immediately. After a superficial assessment she turned to Thantor and said grimly, "Her condition is not good."
"Actually, she wants me to tell you that she is thrilled to be enjoying the most excellent of accommodations..." he grimaced suddenly, as if he had been hit on the head. "... that is, she wants me to tell you she feels better than she looks."
T'lainya's eyes open wide in shock. Thantor... speaking gibberish? Of course, this is what Gwally always held to be true, but still... "Excuse me?" she said to him cautiously. Seeing T'lainya's reaction, Thantor sighed. "It is a long story, but during the retrieval of Yshania's spirit during our encounter with the Banshee in the garden, she was unable to enter her own body for some reason. So she... ended up in mine," he ended, embarrassed. It took a moment for this to register, and the thought of Yshania prancing around inside the body of serious and controlled Thantor... T'lainya burst out laughing. Realizing that this could be viewed as somewhat insensitive, she tried to contain herself, but the more she tried to control it, the more ridiculous it became. Soon she was beside herself with laughter, which Thantor eventual joined.
"No, I think I should get the door." Thantor replied.
"Why am I never allowed to get the door?" Yshania teased. Thantor sighed. "Ok, we will get the door together." They got up from the bed and opened the door to find T'lainya standing there, looking uncomfortable about something and concerned. Thantor raised his hand in traditional greeting, fighting the impulse from Yshania to reach out and hug their friend. "It is good to see you, T'lainya... and to have you back with us. Have you had a chance to refresh yourself?"
"I will shortly, Thantor, thank you," T'lainya said with a smile. She was pleased once again to experience the warmth of friendships too long set apart, and for a moment the dark sensations of the keep fell away. She noticed Yshania's pale body lying on the bed and turned to it immediately. After a superficial assessment she turned to Thantor and said grimly, "Her condition is not good."
"Actually, she wants me to tell you that she is thrilled to be enjoying the most excellent of accommodations..." he grimaced suddenly, as if he had been hit on the head. "... that is, she wants me to tell you she feels better than she looks."
T'lainya's eyes open wide in shock. Thantor... speaking gibberish? Of course, this is what Gwally always held to be true, but still... "Excuse me?" she said to him cautiously. Seeing T'lainya's reaction, Thantor sighed. "It is a long story, but during the retrieval of Yshania's spirit during our encounter with the Banshee in the garden, she was unable to enter her own body for some reason. So she... ended up in mine," he ended, embarrassed. It took a moment for this to register, and the thought of Yshania prancing around inside the body of serious and controlled Thantor... T'lainya burst out laughing. Realizing that this could be viewed as somewhat insensitive, she tried to contain herself, but the more she tried to control it, the more ridiculous it became. Soon she was beside herself with laughter, which Thantor eventual joined.
Those who will play with kitties must expect to be scratched.
Many are cold; few are frozen.
Absence is to love what wind is to fire... it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the great.
Many are cold; few are frozen.
Absence is to love what wind is to fire... it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the great.
The blue blade was driving him insane.
What is it!?
There was something about it...
Like a drug part of him hated and another part needed desperately.
"But what can I gain from a sword?" He muttered angrily drawing stares from about the room.
"My apologies. My name, is not important. If you need call me anything, call me Farscape." The blade still shone.
Dropping his cloak from his shoulders, Farscape stood. He was clad in a magnifcient suit of armour, forged from the scales of beasts great and small. The breast plate was dark green, obviously taken from an adult dragon. Protecting the adomen was a piece of textured black leather, smooth and supple, yet glinting in the fire light like hardened steel. Shoulder plates projected from the sides, One a brilliant white the other crimson. His arms were coated in a series of overlayed gray scales trimmed in gold.
"I am from nowhere, and everywhere. At one point, I was a paladin, I served Torm. Now, however..."
He laughed, a deep, surprisingly cheerful sound.
"Now, I serve myself and all. Should you need my assistance, merely ask. But now, I would ask for a favour from one among you... The blade that shines blue as I draw near, may I borrow it for a moment?
What is it!?
There was something about it...
Like a drug part of him hated and another part needed desperately.
"But what can I gain from a sword?" He muttered angrily drawing stares from about the room.
"My apologies. My name, is not important. If you need call me anything, call me Farscape." The blade still shone.
Dropping his cloak from his shoulders, Farscape stood. He was clad in a magnifcient suit of armour, forged from the scales of beasts great and small. The breast plate was dark green, obviously taken from an adult dragon. Protecting the adomen was a piece of textured black leather, smooth and supple, yet glinting in the fire light like hardened steel. Shoulder plates projected from the sides, One a brilliant white the other crimson. His arms were coated in a series of overlayed gray scales trimmed in gold.
"I am from nowhere, and everywhere. At one point, I was a paladin, I served Torm. Now, however..."
He laughed, a deep, surprisingly cheerful sound.
"Now, I serve myself and all. Should you need my assistance, merely ask. But now, I would ask for a favour from one among you... The blade that shines blue as I draw near, may I borrow it for a moment?
The waves came crashing in like blindness.
So I just stood and listened.
So I just stood and listened.
Aegis, having been left only in the room with the hurt paladin, made his way to a chair, and sat down in the plush furniture. He leaned back, but maintained a stern elven posture, and regarded the man as he spoke. He listened, and nodded once he finished.
"I wish I could be off assistence to you, Farscape." the elven ranger began, "but this is not my abode, nor am I truely even aquinted with the Dark Flames."
"I wish I could be off assistence to you, Farscape." the elven ranger began, "but this is not my abode, nor am I truely even aquinted with the Dark Flames."
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Gwalchmai
- Posts: 6252
- Joined: Wed May 09, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: This Quintessence of Dust
- Contact:
Gwalchmai carried the crate of wine into the great room, the bottles vibrating to the sound of Nippy’s gong. Alreth seemed alarmed as she followed the clanking wine bottles. Dragon Wench and Jerren also followed, to find Nippy holding court with the new arrivals. The group had gained yet another new member in the last five minutes, and Gwalchmai was beginning to feel rather exasperated. The newest stranger was dressed in full armor, and appeared loath to make himself more comfortable. He said his name was ‘Farscape’, and a sudden image of a twitchy blue woman popped into Gwalchmai’s head. Chalking the image up to just an after-effect of the pumpkin seeds, Gwalchmai tried to focus on what the Knight was saying; something about wanting to examine a blue blade in the possession of the other newcomer who had been hurt. This man did not appear to understand Common, and looked shocked that anyone would want to try to take his blade.
Before the situation turned bad, Gwalchmai set the crate of wine down in the middle of the low table near the hearth. He began opening the bottles and pouring glasses for everyone. Aegis was the first to help with the wine, while Vivien raided the pantry and distributed scones, bread, dry sausage, fruits, and nuts to everyone. The stranger with the blue blade ate greedily. Aegis, the blond elf, drank greedily. Alreth savored her wine, swirling and sniffing it in her glass. Nippy continued asking pointed questions of the guests and telling about the Dark Flames. He skillfully gave out little valuable information about the Dark Flames while subtly interrogating the guests.
Gwalchmai looked around and failed to see the red-headed ranger, Mysteria. “She’s up stairs taking a bath,” Nippy said.
“Perhaps I should go check on her,” Gwalchmai said.
‘Gwally!” Dragon Wench hissed, “Don’t you dare!”
“What?” he said, his eyes wide with innocence.
Suddenly, all the candles in the room guttered darkly, as if an unfelt wind had sprang up. The fire in the hearth burned dark and low, as a deep creaking and groaning noise was heard throughout the keep. In the silence, a wolf could be heard outside, howling forlornly. In the next instant, the candles and fire returned to normal, and everyone looked around wondering what had just happened.
Before the situation turned bad, Gwalchmai set the crate of wine down in the middle of the low table near the hearth. He began opening the bottles and pouring glasses for everyone. Aegis was the first to help with the wine, while Vivien raided the pantry and distributed scones, bread, dry sausage, fruits, and nuts to everyone. The stranger with the blue blade ate greedily. Aegis, the blond elf, drank greedily. Alreth savored her wine, swirling and sniffing it in her glass. Nippy continued asking pointed questions of the guests and telling about the Dark Flames. He skillfully gave out little valuable information about the Dark Flames while subtly interrogating the guests.
Gwalchmai looked around and failed to see the red-headed ranger, Mysteria. “She’s up stairs taking a bath,” Nippy said.
“Perhaps I should go check on her,” Gwalchmai said.
‘Gwally!” Dragon Wench hissed, “Don’t you dare!”
“What?” he said, his eyes wide with innocence.
Suddenly, all the candles in the room guttered darkly, as if an unfelt wind had sprang up. The fire in the hearth burned dark and low, as a deep creaking and groaning noise was heard throughout the keep. In the silence, a wolf could be heard outside, howling forlornly. In the next instant, the candles and fire returned to normal, and everyone looked around wondering what had just happened.
That there; exactly the kinda diversion we coulda used.
Somewhere, a gong sounded, but lost in daydreaming, Mysteria didn't heed it. After some time though, she rose from the tub and fastened her knife. She gave Fang a big grin that made him crawl even further back in his hiding place. She was about to catch him to drop him into a tub when suddenly the lights flickered and Fang growled. Looking around, alarmed, she checked the room but saw no threat. Well, she was pretty sure she hadn't caused the lights to flicker, so she dropped the idea of giving Fang a bath and dressed quickly. First muddy, then still damp, I'll make a wonderfull impression. Grabbing her second knife, sword and dagger, she went out to check what was happening. Fang followed gladly, happy to escape a bath.
Going downstairs, she thought some more about her situation. Somehow, she couldn't help feeling at home here. It was not so much the keep but the people that made her feel welcome. I'd like to stay, she admitted to herself, especially as it seems that evil is gathering. She sighed, she couldn't really stay, could she? Her magic would just get her into trouble again.
Reaching the kitchen, she found almost everybody assembled inside. Seeing their faces, she stated, "The fires went out here too. I guess, nobody knows why?" Seeing the food, she suddenly felt ravenous and helped herself to some, not forgetting Fang. Finally, she leaned against a wall, as she was still damp, and took in the room.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Mysteria ]
Going downstairs, she thought some more about her situation. Somehow, she couldn't help feeling at home here. It was not so much the keep but the people that made her feel welcome. I'd like to stay, she admitted to herself, especially as it seems that evil is gathering. She sighed, she couldn't really stay, could she? Her magic would just get her into trouble again.
Reaching the kitchen, she found almost everybody assembled inside. Seeing their faces, she stated, "The fires went out here too. I guess, nobody knows why?" Seeing the food, she suddenly felt ravenous and helped herself to some, not forgetting Fang. Finally, she leaned against a wall, as she was still damp, and took in the room.
[ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Mysteria ]
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."
Aegis sipped his wine, delicatly handling the glass with ease, letting it breath between each intake of the liquid. It had been a long time since he had a fine glass of elven wine, and he savoured every sip of it. For these people to have such a fine vintage was just shear luck. It seemed, that in the coming days, he would have a warm bed, and fine meals. His mind began to think of how he would repay the favour to these generous people.
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Bloodstalker
- Posts: 15512
- Joined: Wed Apr 18, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: Hell if I know
- Contact:
Bloodstalker's body ached with the exertion of his journey. Old wounds not properly healed he supposed. Well, there was not much he could do about it. Potions only went so far, but that was the only viable option open to him, save the herbs he had come to know of the forest from Cernd. thinking of the druid brought a smile to his face. He remembered the time he had taken an arrow through the shoulder in a scuffle with some bandits he and Cernd had come upon. The druid had tried to heal him with some of his spells, only to discover Bloodstalker's secret. As Cernd began weaving the mystical energies, Bloodstalkers body had reacted. The muscles in his stomach tightened at first, then his entire body had begun to tense. The pain he felt was even greater than that of the wound the arrow had inflicted on him. Cernd had stopped, fearing that in trying to heal him he would succeed only in killing him. He recovered slowly, and only with the knowledge the druid had of the wild plants.
For days after, Cernd had questioned Bloodstalker, never pressing, accepting only what the young warrior was willing to tell him of his days in the Chamber. Cernd had told him that when he had tried the healing spells, he had felt great resistance, as if Bloodstalker's body was trying to fight the magic. His questioning led to some discoveries. It seemed his body had no reaction to potions, nor to an area that had already been affected by magic. No, it was only the manipulttaion of the primal forces, the spell weaving, that brought the pain. The years in the Chamber, day and night of being probed and tortured by the vicious mages that studyed there, had conditioned him eveidently. After being subjected to that much magical energy, he had learned to sense the building of the forces that took place in the casting. His body began to lash back, to try and protect itself in some way from the horror's being inflicted upon it.
With Bloodstalker's permission, Cernd had begun to test this defence mechanism. It seemed that, indeed, Bloodstalker had aquired a certain level of immunity to magic, not enough to be invulnerable by a long shot, but enough that certain spells had little or no effect on him. If you call intense pain no effect that is. The problem was that his body was strained from the effort. Prolonged exposure could probably even kill him. Also, he had no control over what spells were resisted. Healing spells could do as much damage as a fireball. One relief he had was the discovery that spells, not centered on him, while they caused discomfort, were not dangerous.
Little comfort now Cernd, thought Bloodstalker dryly as he snapped out of his thoughts. The fact remained that he was isolated, and his life he may had led was taken from him by someone whose only interest had been in the gaining of knowledge, of power. But he was about to settle that old score.
At least, he hoped he was. The information he had was sketchy at best, gleaned from a traveling caravan he had met with to the north. Rumours and heresay, perhaps, but all pointing to one group that may have some information on his prey. So, he had set out in search of the Dark Flame. Supposedly a powerful band, he hoped against hope that they would have some of the answers he sought. his hand went to the ring on his finger, an arcane relic he had taken from a mage he had slain wearing the same robes as his former captors. He couldn't decipher the markings, but maybe in such a gathering there would be one who had the knowledge to help. That is if they were so inclined. He still held little trust or faith in mages, but needed one in this instance.
The irony struck him suddenly, and brought forth a great roar of laughter. Well, only a little farther, then he would know. Bloodstalker doubled his pace, and clung to his hope.
For days after, Cernd had questioned Bloodstalker, never pressing, accepting only what the young warrior was willing to tell him of his days in the Chamber. Cernd had told him that when he had tried the healing spells, he had felt great resistance, as if Bloodstalker's body was trying to fight the magic. His questioning led to some discoveries. It seemed his body had no reaction to potions, nor to an area that had already been affected by magic. No, it was only the manipulttaion of the primal forces, the spell weaving, that brought the pain. The years in the Chamber, day and night of being probed and tortured by the vicious mages that studyed there, had conditioned him eveidently. After being subjected to that much magical energy, he had learned to sense the building of the forces that took place in the casting. His body began to lash back, to try and protect itself in some way from the horror's being inflicted upon it.
With Bloodstalker's permission, Cernd had begun to test this defence mechanism. It seemed that, indeed, Bloodstalker had aquired a certain level of immunity to magic, not enough to be invulnerable by a long shot, but enough that certain spells had little or no effect on him. If you call intense pain no effect that is. The problem was that his body was strained from the effort. Prolonged exposure could probably even kill him. Also, he had no control over what spells were resisted. Healing spells could do as much damage as a fireball. One relief he had was the discovery that spells, not centered on him, while they caused discomfort, were not dangerous.
Little comfort now Cernd, thought Bloodstalker dryly as he snapped out of his thoughts. The fact remained that he was isolated, and his life he may had led was taken from him by someone whose only interest had been in the gaining of knowledge, of power. But he was about to settle that old score.
At least, he hoped he was. The information he had was sketchy at best, gleaned from a traveling caravan he had met with to the north. Rumours and heresay, perhaps, but all pointing to one group that may have some information on his prey. So, he had set out in search of the Dark Flame. Supposedly a powerful band, he hoped against hope that they would have some of the answers he sought. his hand went to the ring on his finger, an arcane relic he had taken from a mage he had slain wearing the same robes as his former captors. He couldn't decipher the markings, but maybe in such a gathering there would be one who had the knowledge to help. That is if they were so inclined. He still held little trust or faith in mages, but needed one in this instance.
The irony struck him suddenly, and brought forth a great roar of laughter. Well, only a little farther, then he would know. Bloodstalker doubled his pace, and clung to his hope.
Lord of Lurkers
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
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Bloodstalker
- Posts: 15512
- Joined: Wed Apr 18, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: Hell if I know
- Contact:
Bloodstalker was uncharacteristically hesitant. Now that the keep was in sight, he wondered what the best course of action was at this point. Until now, he had just been intent on finding the place, now that it confronted him, he was slightly at a loss.He could feel the power of mages casting spells coming from the keep, but nothing like the black powers he had been accustomed to in his imprisonment. Also, he thought with a faint bit of embarrassment, probably nothing like the earth shattering magic he had envisioned in an organization so powerful. No, more likely the common, everyday incantations that were common in the cities. the grand thoughts he had envisioned made him feel a bit sheepish.
But more than that, was his intense distrust of mages. He had thought it would be easy to cast it aside long enough to see what help they could offer, then move on, but it was more difficult. It surprised him how deep his scars ran.
Surprised and angered him. Angered him that he was so close, and was hesitating. He had lost out on much since his days in the chamber, and decided that he would be damned if he would see this chance slip by as well. Mages or no mages, he started walking briskly towards the keep, pauseing only once when the howl of a wolf broke the stillness, then continueing. Absently, he wondered how many eyes were watching his approach from inside those walls? Well, he would find out soon enough.
But more than that, was his intense distrust of mages. He had thought it would be easy to cast it aside long enough to see what help they could offer, then move on, but it was more difficult. It surprised him how deep his scars ran.
Surprised and angered him. Angered him that he was so close, and was hesitating. He had lost out on much since his days in the chamber, and decided that he would be damned if he would see this chance slip by as well. Mages or no mages, he started walking briskly towards the keep, pauseing only once when the howl of a wolf broke the stillness, then continueing. Absently, he wondered how many eyes were watching his approach from inside those walls? Well, he would find out soon enough.
Lord of Lurkers
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
Guess what? I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!
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Yshania
- Posts: 8572
- Joined: Wed May 09, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: Some Girls Wander By Mistake
- Contact:
Yshania was at first perturbed by the images Thantor had shown her, followed by a warm and relieved acceptance, though she could not remember the scorched valley so easily...she decided to not linger in that blackened and forsaken place...she hummed to herself in this happy green land...
She tried to smile as Gwalchmai entered the room, only to realise that Gwalchmai, in his amused understanding, could yet only envisage Thantor. She grumbled to herself about books being read by their covers...then offered her attention to the conversation about Georgi. Her absence did concern her somewhat, given the circumstances, but she was convinced that Georgi was more able of looking after herself than Yshania was right now...laughing to herself as Gwalchmai became distracted by a collection of books that fell to remind him of the geography of Faerun, she smiled satisfied that he might consider speed reading a possible danger...
On Gwalchmai's departure, Yshania turned mentally to Thantor. "So what now?" she asked. "We will become a laughing stock at this rate, and though I - myself - have no reputation to protect....how do you believe Symbul is viewing all of this?"
She felt him cringe briefly as the bastions were raised again. She sighed, defeated. For now.
A rap at the door caught her attention, amused by Thantor's gentlemanly insistances, she allowed him to take the lead and discover their visitor.
T'lainya!! Yshania was so pleased to see her friend, she wanted to hug her, sadly she accepted the polite wave that Thantor offered, and the irritated bristling she sensed. "I bother you don't I?" she said sulkily, she sensed the grin on Thantor's face become wider, but received no response.
Then suddenly she felt a tug...as brief as it was it was strong, and obvious. Thantor felt it too...she knew...and very briefly she felt him resist...
Then she caught sight of T'lainya's horrified expression....
Desperately forcing Thantor to turn, she caught sight of her body raising form the bed....
Unbidden, her flesh and bones marched dreamily passed the stunned party...a corpse with purpose in her stride...
T'lainya, Thantor, and Yshania could only look on stunned as her form disappeared around the corner...
She tried to smile as Gwalchmai entered the room, only to realise that Gwalchmai, in his amused understanding, could yet only envisage Thantor. She grumbled to herself about books being read by their covers...then offered her attention to the conversation about Georgi. Her absence did concern her somewhat, given the circumstances, but she was convinced that Georgi was more able of looking after herself than Yshania was right now...laughing to herself as Gwalchmai became distracted by a collection of books that fell to remind him of the geography of Faerun, she smiled satisfied that he might consider speed reading a possible danger...
On Gwalchmai's departure, Yshania turned mentally to Thantor. "So what now?" she asked. "We will become a laughing stock at this rate, and though I - myself - have no reputation to protect....how do you believe Symbul is viewing all of this?"
She felt him cringe briefly as the bastions were raised again. She sighed, defeated. For now.
A rap at the door caught her attention, amused by Thantor's gentlemanly insistances, she allowed him to take the lead and discover their visitor.
T'lainya!! Yshania was so pleased to see her friend, she wanted to hug her, sadly she accepted the polite wave that Thantor offered, and the irritated bristling she sensed. "I bother you don't I?" she said sulkily, she sensed the grin on Thantor's face become wider, but received no response.
Then suddenly she felt a tug...as brief as it was it was strong, and obvious. Thantor felt it too...she knew...and very briefly she felt him resist...
Then she caught sight of T'lainya's horrified expression....
Desperately forcing Thantor to turn, she caught sight of her body raising form the bed....
Unbidden, her flesh and bones marched dreamily passed the stunned party...a corpse with purpose in her stride...
T'lainya, Thantor, and Yshania could only look on stunned as her form disappeared around the corner...
Parachute for sale, like new! Never opened!
Guinness, black goes with everything.
Guinness, black goes with everything.