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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #125 on: March 10, 2010, 05:54:47 PM »
As Vorodon lunged to the attack, Adan backpeddled, his enlarged hand reaching out to grab the haywagon he had been shouting about. With a whipping action, he slung the cart along the ground towards the hell-beast, only to stop it at the last moment, and flip it in the direction of the faratsu, a great cloud of straw and hay issuing forth over the demon. With luck, he could blind the thing, using its own tarry skin against it.

[ooc] I imagine you want something to gauge the effect of it, though it's basically an area attack, maybe 10' wide at most. [/ooc]
[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 8, total 8[/blockquote]

Offline valadaar

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #126 on: March 10, 2010, 06:03:19 PM »
Kadarin, with perhaps the strength to cast one last spell, instead stood quietly within the circle of protection.  He thought about his sling, but he was more likely to bean someone other then the demonic creature.

Someday, if he survived, he would do better. Much better.



   
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Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #127 on: March 10, 2010, 06:15:11 PM »
[ooc]No roll necessary[/ooc]

The Farastu was focusing on the ogre and knight (that confounded taunter!), and did not notice the wheeling hay-wagon until the last possible second. It was too late then. Adan the Giant had flipped the wagon easily enough, and now the drying grass engulfed the demodand. The beast roared at this new affront, as if it was being devoured by a straw elemental

Straw and hay flew everywhere, bits sticking to Vorodan, the whirling Kyrian, and the giant Adan. The demodand however received the brunt of the wagon's load, and was completely hidden from view for a few seconds. In its place a beast of hay now flailed its limbs in fury.

[ooc]Vorodon gets to attack at +2 this round, due to Demodand's hay bath, which worked mostly because Kyrian was keeping Demodand quite busy with strikes and insults. Then group initiative roll again. Demodand rolls... This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d10 : 9, total 9[/ooc]
« Last Edit: March 10, 2010, 06:19:07 PM by Murometz »
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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #128 on: March 10, 2010, 06:52:54 PM »
[ooc] Rolled well for us in the chat room, so voro gets two swings, we all get one before the demo. [/ooc]

Spinning away from the flying cart, Adan brought his sword up into the classical Ochs position, his hand high, the elbow pointed back, his arm arced over his head, the blade pointing directly at the demon, before he brought it down hard and fast, a mighty blow in Oberhau, as he screamed, "For Trigu!

And at long last, a blade drew demonic ichor forth, the runes along the blade hissing with a rage of light and sparks as it tasted of the magic in the demon's blood... and thirsted for it.

Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #129 on: March 10, 2010, 07:53:16 PM »
[ooc]First Blood! Demo's HP tally. Had 70, Adan did 8. Has 62.[/ooc]
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Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #130 on: March 10, 2010, 08:36:08 PM »
Aerex Matare

It had been quite an experience, the Regatta. Wind howling at his back, salt-ladden waves splashing his face, every muscle on his body straining and rebelling against the necessary and constant work involved. Talia seemed to take to sailing like a fish to water, and before long, it was hard to distinguish between the captain and the gypsy warrior.  Vorodon as well, thanks to his prodigious strength and can-do attitude proved to be an invaluable crew member of the Vermilion Wind.

Until that is, he vanished into the cold, vast seas in one split second. Aerex had seen from the corner of his eye, how the mighty half-ogre was hauling line, then watched in horror, as a small but powerful wave knocked him into the drink.

Panicking, because he realized in that moment, that the Vermilion Wind, making fifteen knots now, was not going to suddenly stop mid-race to trawl for the half-ogre, Aerex screamed Vorodon’s name into the frothy seas around him. The captain, ever vigilant, did in fact steer the vessel suddenly sideways, yelling for her crew to fish the giant out of the waves, yet to everyone’s surprise, the half-ogre was nowhere to be seen. It was if he had gone down like a rock.

Aerex suddenly felt he had no choice, though his own decision irked him, he felt himself moving almost involuntarily, and dove headlong into the choppy seas after his comrade in arms, sailor rope in hand.

The next thing that happened was horrific. Racing along-side the Vermillion Wind was another long-ship, the Screaming Eagle. With both ships travelling at break-neck speeds, disaster struck, when the captain of the Vermillion Wind attempted to maneuver the ship to save Vorodon and moments later, Aerex. The two ships crashed, a sickening crack could be heard as the two vessels momentarily collided and…

------------------------------------

What happened next, Aerex was not quite sure. He was not even aware of the crash ahead, temporarily losing all sense of time and place in the thrashing waters, only to feel himself being swept up by a massive wave, and sent spiraling into deeper water, as he lost consciousness.
------------------------------------

When he came to, he found himself floating in the middle of nowhere, no land, much less Jantir’s harbor could he spy in any direction. He could not even tell if he was still in the great Bay of Screaming Eagles, or if fortune had frowned on him, and deposited him further into open ocean.

As Aerex floated, thoughts came unbidden like an internal kaleidoscope, the Regatta, Talia (!), Voro, (!) Jantir, his father, the bizarre experience with the Tagma Drakontas…no recent event seemed important, only survival mattered now.

-----------------------------------
Months later, Aerex was standing aboard deck of the “One Good Tern”, a frigate bound for northern harbors. He was saved by the crew, one of the Empire’s ships, and offered to be dropped off at their next port-of-call, a small town with a deep-water harbor, and an impressive sea-wall, named Thonrecht. Thonrecht, as Aerex had been explained, was a minor holding of some old, northern clan, called Hellschwert, ringed by sheer sea-cliffs. The Empire held little if no sway here. This was an old city, proud, and set in its ways.

When Aerex inquired about Jantir, he was told it lay four hundred nautical miles south and west, and that with any luck he would find another ship to take him back at Thonrecht’s deep-water harbor.

Now two full months after disappearing below the waves during Jantir’s Regatta, Aerex Matare, once of the Empire, finds himself approaching new shores and new adventures, his past still burdening his mind.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2010, 08:49:53 PM by Murometz »
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Offline Aerex Matare

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #131 on: March 10, 2010, 09:59:05 PM »
Aerex looked out uneasily at the sea from the docks of Thonrecht.  Like it had for the past fifty-three days he'd looked out, the sun rose, casting an orange hue on the water.  And just as he'd done for fifty-three days, Aerex sighed and wondered exactly how he'd gotten here.  Did the Vermillion Wind win the Regatta?  Did Talia find her father, or figure out why she and the captain bore such a striking resemblance?

Was she still looking for him?

That question nagged him, for reasons he couldn't figure out.  And then there was Vorodon, the faithful Volgottoi who'd saved his butt more than enough times to make them practically brothers.  Was he alright?  Did he still travel with Talia and the others?

He sighed again.  Surely his ship would one day come in.  In the meantime, he'd been hanging around little Thonrecht.  It was a quaint town, one he could get used to if he'd had half a mind to do so.  The people were kind enough, if not a little aloof, and the food and drink was fine.  But his heart was set on leaving the place and finding Jantir again.  He headed off to what the locals called the "dockmaster's quarter," a little wooden shanty on the edge of the docks.  To anyone in Jantir it would be indistinguishable from an outhouse, but here it was the office of the harbor's manager.  He smiled at the older gentleman behind the counter, who was just sipping his morning tea.  "Fine morning, Cosmas," he greeted.  Aerex had hung out at the docks long enough now to be on somewhat friendly terms with the old sailor.  "Expecting any deep-water ships today?"

Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #132 on: March 10, 2010, 10:17:52 PM »
Nay, Matare. Not until the big gales out there blow off”, the old man gestured to the sea, obviously referring to some far-away currents, as Thonrecht’s morning was rather mild and wind-free this day.

I told you I’d tell you, didn’ I?” he chided. “But you never did tell me what—hang on” , the old man creaked his legs, and reached for something in some moth-ridden drawer. “There is an ambassador from Jantir who lives on Thunder’s Way. Melitus by name. A lonely fellow, he has little to do here. The Hellschwerts, what’s left of them, don’t much care for Jantirian politics, not since ‘The Insult’ a century ago. Why don’t you go visit him, while you wait for a ship. He will be glad to see a fellow ‘Imperial’. You could swap tales, and he happens to also own the fastest messenger service in the city. He sends birds to Jantir with messages weekly, terns, swift and well-trained. If there is some love that awaits word of your survival with baited breath, you can reach out to her.” The old man smiled and closed his eyes, ready for his morning nap.
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Offline Aerex Matare

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #133 on: March 10, 2010, 10:51:35 PM »
Aerex's eyes narrowed a little.  "Yeah..." was all he could find words for.  What did the old man know?  For a moment, thoughts of conspiracy leapt to his mind, probably seeds planted by the Tagma Drakontas.  But just as soon he dismissed it: old men often had a sixth sense about things thanks to their experience.  "Yeah, I'll do that.  Thanks, Cosmas."

Aerex headed off down the Thunder Road, feeling a bit more hopeful than before.  Perhaps this Melitus would become a friend, an ally, seeing as they were both foreigners in a foreign land (even if the Dynast did claim these lands).  He might be able to get a ship here quicker than waiting for Cosmas' ghost ships to arrive, and maybe he could even get word to Talia.  Fanciful thoughts ran through his head, far-fetched though they were.

After asking for directions from a few of the villagers, Aerex finally found the home of the Imperial ambassador.  Aerex removed his old floppy hat, pulling his hair into some semblance of order - I've got to get this cut soon, he thought as he ran narrow fingers through the long black locks.  After a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #134 on: March 10, 2010, 11:09:25 PM »
Moments later he was already deep in conversation with one, Melitus, 143rd Dynast's Ambassador, and drinking Jantirian coffee, rich and satisfying.

"What news of Jantir? The many-faced god bless you for coming!"

"Their nerve rankles me more than anything. After all, this city and harbor are claimed by the Dynast by rights! Yet these mono-theistic heathens act as if they're still true lords, and we some misbegotten visitors."

"So cold here the winters, my scrotum freezes over. One time I--"

"Well, yes, ermm--I would change my location if I could, I am after all a well-respected ambassador of his imperial majesty, but I-umm, well, yes, someone has to be here. I volunteered to bring the light. Truth be told---this post is more a sentence than an appointment."

"Yes, i have the best messenger birds in the realm. Small boon though, considering this hell hole. But it is not easy to train terns. These birds are somewhat prized."

 "A young girl "rules here", Thea. The Hellschwerts send her here to 'govern'  to spit in our face!"

"The Regatta? Well yes, I will be receiving news from that event in a few days, when the terns return. They say a great storm blows far out to sea."

"You haven't heard? The Hellschwerts feud with the Von Hellens, open war, and demons hold sway over their forsaken, bleak lands. They say the devil has come to Landeel....agian."

"Luckily, none of the fighting has reached us here. Thea stays behind her walls, and the Von Hellens are occupied elsewhere. They say they siege Brightblade Keep itself.

"Where are my manners? How can I help you, my fellow Jantirian, here in dreary Thonrecht?"
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Offline EchoMirage

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #135 on: March 11, 2010, 02:40:41 AM »
Far off, a tarred-and-hayed knight was regaining his bearings. "Is that the best you can do?" Prancing around the roaring haystack, he waited 'till the blinded beast turned its 'back' - or what seemed to be a back - and let it have a classical 'Mordschlag' swing, with his entire body behind it as a twisted spring, the blade describing three quarters of a circle before impacting; too risky it was to attempt in a duel, yet with a foe blinded and stumbling?

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall!"
"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #136 on: March 11, 2010, 02:42:37 AM »
[ooc]To hit:[/ooc][blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 6, total 6[/blockquote]
[ooc]Le damage:[/ooc][blockquote]Rolled 3d6+3 : 4, 1, 1 + 3, total 9[/blockquote]
"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

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Offline valadaar

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #137 on: March 11, 2010, 07:20:16 AM »
Kadarin watched the melee, with both amusement and fear.  The thing by no means was mastered, and the tide of battle could shift in a heartbeat. 

Kadarin fished out his spellbook, grabbed a handful of items from his pocket and began loudly chanting.

"Othrgar me' Nahathan!  Othrgar me' Lathahana! "

Kadarin repeated this sequence, varying the words slightly with each phrase, and slowly increasing the volume each time.

[ooc]Gibberish of course, but seeking to play with the Demodand's head...[/ooc]
   
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Offline Aerex Matare

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #138 on: March 11, 2010, 07:34:47 AM »
Aerex sighed, propping his head up on his arm.  The coffee was good, something he hadn't tasted in weeks, maybe even months, he could hardly remember now.  "That's a fine question, Melitus," he nodded.  "I'm not quite certain myself.  I was part of the Regatta, a crewman on the Vermillion Wind with my companions, a silver-haired gypsy named Talia and one of the Volgottoi, Vorodon by name.  Somehow - I'm still not really certain how - I found myself in the water and eventually washed up here.  Been waiting for a ship to come in for nigh on two months."

He sipped his coffee again and leaned forward.  "I may be grasping at straws here, but I'm wondering if you couldn't try and get a message to Talia.  I'm not sure how, I've no idea where she could be staying, or if she's even in Jantir anymore.  If they did win the Regatta, they'd be easier to find, and it would be hard to miss Vorodon wherever he goes."  His eyes wandered a bit in thought.  "If they did win the Regatta, they would have met the Harbormaster.  That was our original purpose in Jantir," he explained.  "Perhaps you could contact him, see if he's met her.  Talia Bladedancer is her name, she's one hard to miss if you met her."

He paused a moment, pursing his lips.  "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to do it for free, by the Dynast.  I don't have much money, but if you need any tasks done, I'm happy to do them.  Whatever it takes."

Offline Wulfhere

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #139 on: March 11, 2010, 02:56:48 PM »
His attention focussed on the tarry horror, Vorodon was almost as surprised by the avalanche of hay as his straw-covered foe was.  Deep, ogrish laughter boomed forth at the monster's absurd appearance!  "He he ho! Tar monster want to roll in for straws?  Vorodon like women tall tall, no for lump tar to him!  He he!"  The hill warrior punctuated each booming laugh with a swing of his deadly axe, whirling it through wild, sweeping cuts. The massive warrior had already underestimated his foe once:  He would not make such a mistake again!
[ooc][blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 11, total 11[/blockquote][/ooc]
[ooc][blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 18, total 18[/blockquote][/ooc]
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Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #140 on: March 11, 2010, 07:52:10 PM »
Lurching accidentally, the massive, straw-covered demodand managed to avoid the Carmine Rose's  deadly arc once more, this time completely by chance, as Kyrian howled more taunts upon it. Vorodon's axe however, fueled by the lurching demodands inability to properly guage opponent and distance struck home such thunderous blows that Kadarin winced as he watched, casting his faux-magic, and even Adan's paused for a moment, arching his brows at the sight.

Ichor now flew along with tar for the first time, from the misshappen body of the raging beast. The smell in the air assaulted the nostrils of all present, reminiscent of pus and sulfur, only slightly mitigated by the smell of fresh straw.

Even Mouse hooted and hollered now, hiding far back in the stable, well behind Kadarin.

The demodand felt great pain. Its internal dialogue was now on hold. All that mattered now was returning that pain one hundred-fold upon the axe-wielding ogre...or anyone else within range.

[ooc]Rolling Vorodon mega-damage, 2 hits! [blockquote]Rolled 4d6 : 4, 5, 1, 2, total 12[/blockquote]. +10 for str, +4 for axe[/ooc]
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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #141 on: March 11, 2010, 07:55:59 PM »
[ooc]Demodand HP tally. Had 62 left. Vorodon did 26. 36 left. Wow.[/ooc]

[ooc] Axe "Sticking" Rolls[blockquote]Rolled 2d100 : 28, 10, total 38[/blockquote][/ooc]

[ooc]Farastu's attack, it strikes at closest target. Hit rolls, claw/claw/bite on Vorodon, each one at -4 due to blindness[blockquote]Rolled 3d20 : 12, 12, 10, total 34[/blockquote][/ooc]
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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #142 on: March 11, 2010, 08:19:10 PM »
[ooc]Axe no stick, but Voro gets hit with 2 claws. (21:17:47) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 2d6 and gets 6,6 (21:17:50) Murometz: +2 (21:17:54) Siren_no_Orakio: That hurts, though. MAX claw damage, Voro, sorry! 14 HP bye-bye[/ooc]

No sooner had Vorodon's ferocious axe-hits chopped at the Farastu, the half-ogre yanked them from the demon-muck with his great strength, but the beast leapt, possessed of indescribable fury now, its impossibly long talons ripping into the half-ogre's chest, tearing flesh and mail alike. As much as Kadarin and Adan were impressed a second ago with Vorodon's successful attacks, so now they feared for their summoned companion's life, as Vorodon staggered back temporarily, blood gushing from his chest, several ribs probably broken. The demodand was unable to complete its mandibled maw coup-de-gras however, as still blinded, Vorodon's backwards lurch led it to miss his face with its awful bite.

It was like watching demi-gods and titans of old, battle it out beneath the blazing sun. Two behemoths, with Adan the third giant present, and Kyrian, undaunted by his missed strikes, spurring Herald around yet again to make another attack. Kadarin was chanting and faux-casting , nearly frothing, as he watched the scene. Truth be told, his constant chanting seemed to help. The beast, enraged and blinded, did not like the sound of this magic it did not understand. This caused it distress, and further waylaid it in battle.

Roaring like a hundred lions, the demodand charged again, this time in Kyrian and Herald's direction.

An endless surplus of overflowing tar, demon-pus, and ichor, seeped from the monster. Soon the straw would be swallowed up. Soon, it could see again. Sooooon, their circle of heinous power will dissolve, it thought as it charged, smelling horse.

[ooc]Demodand v. group, initiative This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d10 : 6, total 6 [/ooc]
« Last Edit: March 11, 2010, 08:58:57 PM by Murometz »
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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #143 on: March 11, 2010, 09:07:41 PM »
[ooc] Siren rolls in Chat:
Group vs Demodand, Initiative:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d10 and gets 1.

Yay! We go first.

Attack:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 2d20 and gets 15,10.
Damage:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d6 and gets 4.
(4+1+3)*1.4=11
Stick:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d100 and gets 49.
[/ooc]

As the demodand's claws dig into Vorodon, it is still for just long enough that the enlarged knight of Trigu stepped forth from that iron circle of magic, once more making the turning, dancing step of Kurtzschwert Drei, and the runes upon his blade screamed their rage at the demon, bits of tar, chitin, blood, and bits indescribable. Even if they lost this day, the foul beast would forever bear the scars of its visit to the lands of the Brightblade clan. Completing the turn, the giant knight lashed out once more, his blade swinging through the space he had just vacated, and the neighboring areas, though by now, too, the demodand has vacated that same spot in its mad rush towards Kyrian.

As he swing, however, his voice began to rise, a dark hymn, promising the vengeance of the lord upon the sinners before him.

My shield is Trigu, Most High,
      who saves the upright in heart.

He is a righteous judge,
      a God who rends the dark of soul.

He will sharpen his sword;
      he will bend and string his bow.

He has prepared his deadly weapons;
      he makes ready his flaming arrow. 

He comes in war,
      to burn away the pitch of Hell,

And he comes in vengeance,
     in salvation of the lamb!

Offline Murometz

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #144 on: March 11, 2010, 09:33:24 PM »
"Perish the thought. I'll take no coin from you. Tah-lee-ya--" Melitus wrote on a parchment. "Right. Well, if you like, any personal note you may wish to include can be delivered to this women. The birds will simply be sent to the Harbormaster's house itself, and for good measure, a copy to the captain of the Vermilion Wind, and from there the messages, i'm sure, will find their intended marks, either this beauty, or this massive one you describe, or both. And we'll have news of that Regatta even sooner! I expect some birds to return in two days."

"As to any tasks. Well, since you have a few days still in Thonrecht, no, I do not suppose i can think of any, hmm..."

"Would you accompany me to my meet with Thea Hellschwert? I am to call on the girl-governer this eve'. We are to have dinner. I would that you join me, another Jantirian present will help mitigate the Hellschwert's constant gloom. We can feast on her game and drink her wine. My motives for asking are quite simple. A new face, perhaps even, an additional 'emissary' from Jantir, could do the trick in aiding my diplomacies with this infuriating woman. Perhap she'll think, Jantir is about to make some move in Thonrecht's direction. Let her."

Melitus looked to Aerex to see if he understood the diplomat's reasons. "Yes, well, quite." he concluded, seeing Aerex' expression.

"Now, if you wish to write a note, here is quill and parchment. Use yon' seal when you are done", Melitus said pointing to a wax-stamp on his desk, embossed with Jantir's towers.

"I have some business elsewhere I'm afraid, but please remain, and ask the servants for anything you desire. I won't return until this evening, feel free to stake a room if you like. This place is too big for one man and his servants", he gestured around the cavernous manse.


« Last Edit: March 11, 2010, 10:01:23 PM by Murometz »
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Offline Aerex Matare

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #145 on: March 11, 2010, 10:30:59 PM »
Aerex nodded in agreement to the ambassador, though reluctantly.  He'd always had mixed feelings about the ever-growing empire of the Dynast, wondering if stretching the borders far out beyond the ancestral homeland of the Southfolk was economically or politically wise.  Since his expulsion from the guard and development as a ranger, he also questioned the legitimacy of any governance over a people without their assent.

And yet.  If he were to find his way out of this small village, out of the land of the Helleschwerts (Where have I heard that name before? he thought briefly), he would need Melitus' help.  Besides, it was just a diplomatic dinner, not a hostile conquest.  "Thank you for your generosity, Ambassador.  I look forward to our dinner."

After Miletus left, Aerex picked up the quill and stared at the paper.  It had been a long time since he'd written a personal letter, anything besides reports really.  He stroked the feather in thought for a few minutes before finally penning something:
Quote
Talia,

I pray this letter finds you well.  By the time you receive this, I will know who won the Regatta.  I hope it was the Vermillion Wind, and that you met the Harbormaster.  What news do you have?

You are probably wondering where I have been.  I am not totally certain myself, I remember only that great wave that tossed me into the surf, then washing up here.  I am in Thonrecht, far north of Jantir, in the a feudal land ruled by the Helleschwert family.  I have been searching for passage back to the capital, but have not had any luck.  By chance I met a Jantiri ambassador, Melitus, who delivers these messages.  He has advocated for me by sending this message your way.

I only hope this message actually does reach you.  I have no idea if you made it to the Harbormaster or are even in Jantir.  I hope you are not out looking for me; there are dangerous lands between here and the Shining City.  Regardless, I look forward to finally seeing you again soon.  I will await here until you send a message back.

There is much more to say, but I do not know how to say it here.  I will tell you all when we are reunited.  Until then, I am ever,
humbly,
Aerex Matare

P.S.: Vorodon, if this comes to you, find a way to get to Thonrecht to find me.  Send a message ahead so I know you are coming.  Be well, my friend.

Aerex strummed his fingers against the table after he finished, reading the letter to himself, then twice again.  It wasn't great, and certainly didn't get all he wanted to say, but...

He shrugged at his own question.  But what?  He didn't know what else to write, or at the least his words failed him.  It would have to do; the sooner the letter reached Jantir, the better.  He folded the letter and stamped it, addressing it:
Quote
Talia Bladedancer & Vorodon, son of Gorye
care of Jantir Harbor Master,
or Captain of the Vermillion Wind
He placed the letter on the table and leaned back in the chair.  "Now what?" he muttered aloud.  It would be a long wait for the letter to be even sent, let alone until a reply was returned.  With a sigh he stood and stretched.  Might as well make the most of it, he figured.  He headed to find one of the servants and the guest quarters.  Perhaps one of them had a breakfast ready...

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #146 on: March 12, 2010, 12:00:16 AM »
Aerex Matare

He broke his fast on kippers and poached quail eggs, with breads, the last of the winterberry jam, and more Jantirian coffee. Spring was coming to Thonrecht, yet the cool breezes from the sea, still kept the days and nights quite cold.

He thought of visiting some shops, to acquire appropriate attire  for the evening's dinner, but Melitus' servants had ushered him toward a walk-in closet filled with various fashions. Everything he could have desired to purchase was offered him instead.

Wrapping his cloak about him, Aerex ventured into the city proper, eventually, eager for a brisk walk. Thonrecht was the size of a single district in Jantir, yet majestic, and truth be told, fearsome in appearence, were Thonrecht's cliff-carved walls. Two great pillars of jagged basalt, each six hundred or more feet high, and sretching far afield, formed a natural impregnable barrier for the city. Aerex could see the great cleft of stone when he had first approached the Hellschwert harbor by ship, and now, strolling along the narrow avenues, a sense of claustraphobia could be felt, whenever he would  look up at the shadow-castng moniliths, squeezing the harbor and half of the city in its stone embrace.

Melitus had told him, that he had once heard, that the Hellschwerts would immolate their own dead in something they called 'cold-fires' and smeared the ashes of their anscesters into the very walls of Thonrecht, keeping the stone impregnable and everlasting. Melitus doubted the veracity of these tales he related, claiming the Hellschwerts probably spread these rumors themselves, to foster dread in their subjects.

Aerex now found himself wandering near the peer again for a time. As he walked the dreary streets, he thought about other ‘unfortunate events’ transpiring in this ‘wretched’ place, as explained earlier to him by Melitus. For the past eight months in Thonrecht apparently, an elusive assassin, dubbed “Nightjar” by the populace, had been busy assassinating nobles for no rhyme or reason. Aerex peered around corners, his old investigative senses peaking, as he walked, imagining himself hunting down such a criminal, block by block, clue by clue.

It took some getting used to, but Aerex managed to find his way around the narrow, labyrinthine streets, and some time after mid-day, found himself watching a falconry exhibition atop one of the stony hills outside the town proper. The elevation allowed for a breath-taking visual, a sweeping panorama of sea and stone. The falcons were trained to hunt puffins. Aerex watched and reflected upon his own thoughts, as the falcons swooped and soared to knock the fast-flying, determined puffins from the sky, where nets awaited them.

He could see a few of his fellows, rangers by the looks of them, directing the falcons, for a small gathered crowd. Now, unlike in the city streets, his yearnings for nature and for some worthy cause, overtook him, he was a warden of the wilds now, he smiled to himself, and he needed some worthy cause. He needed purpose. Was his fate intertwined with that of Talia? He could not be sure.

Besides the falconers and their audience, Aerex could now spy a small group of to the side of the hillock. A tall woman, shorn bald, draped in sea-green, lacquered armor, and leaning on a long sword, noticed Aerex looking and eyed him back. Next to her, a dwarf dressed in an ochre-colored robe, clutched a n oaken staff studded with a spike-burst at one end. His yellow beard split down the middle, creating the effect of two golden horns, straddling his chin. The third figure, a man, this one also robed, but in plain white, with a single red sash across his waist, was glumly staring out to sea.  He stood weaponless, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robes. A bushy beard hid his meaty face, and multiple braids of ebon hair snaked down past his shoulders. The fourth figure was an obvious warrior, currently donning a baroque suit of field-plate, complete with a wolf’s head helm. Both axe and sword leaned against a rock beside him.

The group looked particularly interesting to Aerex, as he waited for time to pass, and little else, truth be told, had caught his attention this day so far. The group seemed anxious yet resolute, as if preparing for either battle or some great hunt.


« Last Edit: March 12, 2010, 01:31:35 AM by Murometz »
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Offline Wulfhere

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #147 on: March 12, 2010, 12:06:39 AM »
Burning pain lanced into Vorodon's side as his demonic foe's claws tore through the iron strips of his ancestor's armor.  Gummy, squirting secretions briefly glued the thing to the Volgottir's arm, driving him to desperately slam the iron-shod haft of his axe into the thing's face. To Vorodon's alarmed frustration, the thing's alien tissues seemingly felt no pain from the assault. Over and over, his brutal strikes lost their power, ensnared in its disgusting secretions. Would nothing stop this thing?

Stepping clear to strike again, Vordon discovered its disgusting ooze had cemented his boot to the ground!  For long seconds, the half-ogre fought to free his foot from the alien sludge.  He expected the creature to press its advantage, but it instead moved clear of his axe's reach, choosing to strike at one of his friends.

Frustration filled the hill warrior's voice as he saw the daemon shift clear. "Gorram ferish! Shmit for to die now!"
"Nothing real can defeat us:  Nothing unreal exists."
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Offline EchoMirage

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #148 on: March 12, 2010, 02:06:31 AM »
"That's right, it's me you want, you piece of hellish excrement! From what imp's bottom did you emerge, and what did he have to devour to create something as disgusting yet useless? Ha!"

He leaped from the saddle, for the greatsword was a weapon better used on foot; truth be said, he was also too furious to wait until he could turn Herald around after his passing strikes. "You have outstayed your welcome" the knight hissed across clenched teeth as he brought his blade to bear.

[ooc]I have to hit one day, right?[/ooc][blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 19, total 19[/blockquote]
[ooc]Damage, if I hit, Shar-Sanya willing[/ooc][blockquote]Rolled 3d6+3 : 4, 5, 5 + 3, total 17[/blockquote]
"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

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Offline Aerex Matare

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Re: Whom the gods would destroy...
« Reply #149 on: March 12, 2010, 10:54:55 AM »
Aerex smiled at the small band despite himself.  The group reminded him of how this whole affair got started: a motley crew of makeshift militiamen after an outlaw near tiny Ganse.  Like the adventurers had been, they looked like they were ready for action, awaiting some great enemy or new quest.  He could see the old crew now, faces he hadn't seen in months but still remembered: Dujek, the wizard whose head hadn't been right since the bandits in the woods; Moruz, the foreign warrior decked in glass, who left as mysteriously as he'd arrived; Aethelstan, the priest who fell too soon; Vee Keykold, the Nimzian rogue.  Others, too, had come and gone.  Would their paths ever meet again?  Logic told Aerex Matare no, but the better part of him demanded a yes.

He nearly turned away, embarassed at the prospect of engaging strangers to reminisce.  But the ranger couldn't resist.  He walked toward the group with a small smile.  "A fine day, my friends," he greeted.  "You look like you're looking for something.  Perhaps I could be of some service?"