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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 10, 2005 18:15:19 GMT -4
As Breena’s blade met his axe he immediately let go with his right hand. Instinctually he grabbed one of his belt knives and pulled it out, spinning it into a back hand position as he moved it to her throat. Before the last word even left her mouth the blade was positioned at her throat. As he spun his entire body to be able to put his strength behind the fatal cut he saw her face, her long lustrous hair plastered to her smooth silken skin. He immediately stopped, his hand began to tremble and the knife slipped from his fingers. Gar-ten stepped back from Breena with a look in his eye both of confusion and sorrow.
Malthag placed himself between Gar-ten and the undead in a defensive position, yet oddly enough he left Breena alone, not even giving her a second glance. As Gar-ten stepped back he looked at the undead, and he tightened has grip on his axe with his left hand. And as he moved his right hand up to grab his axe again, yet he paused, as if unsure. Looking at his right hand he looked again at his knife on the ground and then again at Breena. Turning again to the undead he said while still staring at his right hand as he clenched and unclenched it. “The south is your realm, a place of death and chaos, and I leave you and your master to it. Anyone that travels this far south takes their lives in their own hands. But if I see you or your ilk in the north I will send them to their graves.” He moved forward again and knelt down to get his knife. As he rose again he looked Breena in the face and mouthed the words “forgive me” but no sound was made. Standing full he turned and faced the undead once more, and waited to see what would happen.
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Post by Icor on Jul 11, 2005 17:43:00 GMT -4
Ultimately, Moa’ never barely from his position, his chest heaving with every crackling breath. He watched the brief moment pass from his spot, observing as if he’d become some kind of statue with lonesome, bright eyes. He watched Gar-Ten, and Breena both, giving the undead little attention while Breena preserved its life. His face could not be seen clearly enough to discern any expression. He pressed his arms into his chest, folding them over the soaked, white fabric which had been turned black by the underlying skin. Sounding as if he hadn’t even seen the ordeal take place, Durst finally looked back at the undead. His tone was a mixture of shame and pleasure, concocted with his own sleazy dose of calmness.
“I say we leave him to his role. The Goddess has plans for it, which is more than I can say for myself. I, or rather we, cannot get into the Heraldry with a half-rotten corpse lugging its way behind me – or rather, us”, and Moaticus dragged out his final S like a snake.
Durst purposely left some of his words unexplained. He’d talk in a way though could be meant as something different for different people. Maybe it was his way of testing the character of his comrades. Maybe it was just some game. Irregardless, Moa’ made his decision. It was somehow obvious that Moa’ wouldn’t ever kill the beast, but he certainly wouldn’t wait for it.
Durst turned to look at Breena. His gaze was attentive and possibly curious. He walked toward her, though hardly made himself uncomfortably close to her (even though any approach by some shadowy ghost-of-a-figure Drow may have seemed at least partially ominous). He shifted his lower jaw, and gave Gar-Ten a passing glance as he pushed his way back into the canopy.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 11, 2005 21:52:31 GMT -4
Grougrut had little hope for returning to his master until his deed was done, but these travelers had made it more difficult than he had hoped. He knew that of the at least fourteen people he had confronted on this quest these three were the ones of most skill, though they were haunted with several inconsistencies and strife. Grougrut had little resources and knew the light walker won’t jump a bribe, but he also knew the drow might. The heraldic halls would be an impossible trek for an undead, but he knew his master had friends in high places. Maybe he could arrange something.
“You need someone with certainty among you. Of all your traits that is what none of you have abundance of, certainty. Almost everything you know about one another could be just as easily a lie as it is a truth. Why is the drow taking you south? Answer me that and I’ll end my argument.”
Grougrut simply peered at Gar-ten and Breen, waiting for a plausible answer. He then slowly rose to his feet and sheathed his axe, the mettle of the blade still crackling and hissing in the wind and rain.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 11, 2005 23:20:21 GMT -4
Breena’s fingers sprung loose, her fingers leaving the hilt and soon the blade crashed upon her boot-clad foot, which was ready to kick the blade up if necessary. There was no time for worry to flash upon her features, and perhaps even if there was, perhaps she wouldn’t have flinched, after all, she had been in more battles than she could possibly count. Beryl eyes gazed up at the barbaric man, her face framed with her auburn hair, water droplets dripping from her chin. A long sigh escaped her and she stood upright once more, her foot kicking her blade up, which she spun around in her grasp and sheathed once more.
As if nothing had ever occurred, Breena stood up right, lax in position once again; her long fingers flick a few drenched strands that were blocking her visage. She was well wet now, not one part was dry on her, right down to her feet, which felt as if they were floating in her boots. As the man before her mouthed those words, a smile and a nod was given, she then turned upon her heel to gaze upon the undead and Durst.
“Foul one, who said he was leading me anywhere? My home lies within the South.”
Breena’s words slipped from her mouth, her gaze not wavering from their place (which they were set upon Durst still.)
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Post by Icor on Jul 12, 2005 18:02:15 GMT -4
Durst was no longer a part of the debate. His judgment was swift and frighteningly vague. He sat back down now shielded from the rain and rested his back against a tree while the leaves cracked upon every falling droplet. He closed his eyes and sighed soundly from his nose. His arms sluggishly picked up his armor while he appeared to meditate, and strapped one gangly piece to his drenched body after the next. His suiting was soft audibly-wise as the metal would chime in the storm with its sharper notes.
Durst leaned his head back once his leather and shoulder pads were fixed to his body. He breathed like his lungs were two sacks of ashes. He rested his forearm on his knee as he arched his legs and rested the flat parts of his feet in the damp leaves, trying to make out the discussion outside.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 12, 2005 18:49:29 GMT -4
Gar-ten quirked an eyebrow at the undead’s comment. “The Heraldic Libraries are to the north not the south, and thus your question is answered, he isn’t leading us south.” with that he let out a small laugh. Making sure he properly sheathed his knife he moved to grab his cloak, armor and tunic. Throwing them up on his shoulder he turned back to the undead. “I have wanted to go to the Heraldic Libraries for some time now, just never got around to it.” Turing his back to the undead he walked to the tree pushing the branches aside he added. “You should go before I change my mind and send you to your second death.” Turning to look at Breena, he added, still with the branches pushed to the side, “You coming?” and with that he disappeared inside the tree once more. Stepping inside the cavity created by the branches of the tree he started to collect some twigs and started a small fire. Setting his axe and clothing aside he looked at the drow. “Malthag will watch the undead till he is gone. If necessary I know a few things that would keep him off our track but…” he paused as if unsure. “Well you know how it is, white magic just isn’t as powerful this far south.” He said it with a small smile and a soft chuckle, almost as if it were a joke. Setting himself in front of the fire he held his hands over it to warm himself.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
Above image is not actual size
Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 12, 2005 20:39:27 GMT -4
Grougrut mingled about with some twigs and things he was picking up off the ground, he played about with them like a little boy with nothing to do. Grougrut was not in a particularly swell mood as of the moment, he was wet, he had that rather large wolf breathing down his neck. And worst of all he didn’t know what to do, according to his master he was to make haste to the benefactor who sent the letter, but he had no idea who it was. A matter of fact he didn’t even know if it was a man or woman. But he did agree, the herald were of good connection, if anyone could have set up a world wide mailing propaganda to anyone and everyone that cared about money in one thousand miles it was the herald. And getting into the herald would not be as hard as Gar-ten assumed, necromantic knowledge is still knowledge and heralds are keen among the wise.
“Do you mind moving your dog away from me? Or do I have to cut it out a new eye socket? And while I’m at it may I inquire how do you know what way he is leading you? Uncertainty, its so fluent among you.”
Grougrut grunted bluntly as he pushed Melthag’s head away.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 12, 2005 21:09:02 GMT -4
The woman’s eyes followed the figure of the Drow, until he slipped into the blanket of the tree. There wasn’t much point in attempting to stay dry now, she was drenched, to the bone and her skin began to absorb the moisture, her fingers pruning up. As if it amused her, or entertained her, Breena studied her fingertips, which were shriveled up. A chuckle came from her as she gazed up at the undead, her hands dropping to her sides. A few moments passed as she stared what seemed to be blankly at the undead, the brute’s words passed into the air, resting within her ears. Offence could have been taken at the order, but she shrugged it off and stayed in her spot, beryl eyes fixating upon the bone-bag.
“Tone it down.” Breena murmured, narrowing her eyes. “If you would just act somewhat decent, I’d ask you to join us under the tree. Do you think you could possibly do that?”
Breena shook her head, her hands upon her hips as she dipped below the branches and slipped into the slight warmth and comfort of the tree’s protection. Her gaze avoided Gar-Ten’s as she stood above the fire, warming her pruned hands. The water still cascading down her form, hair snaking across her face, slowly her fingers regained their soft form, the prune-likeness slowly dissipating. The front part of her form began to dry, and so she turned about to allow her backside to grow warmer, her back was now facing Gar-Ten.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 12, 2005 23:03:14 GMT -4
Gar-ten stared blankly into the fire as if in a trance. His mind whirlwind of thought, his face as un-telling as a blank sheet of paper. He didn’t even notice Breena standing there until she turned around. Looking up at her he was overwhelmed with guilt, yet not knowing what to do he sat there for a time just staring forlornly into the fire. Fearing to do something wrong, and fearing even more to do nothing at all he, noticing how wet she was from the rain and thus how cold she must be, grabbed his wolf skin cloak. Standing up he reached over and softly put it on her shoulders. At this point he was leaning over the small fire to reach her. He quickly sat back down hoping she wouldn’t drop the cloak into the fire. “I am sorry for my rash actions back there, especially toward you Breena.” At this point only Durst knew about this past and the slaying of his family.
Moving away from the fire he started to organize his things. Not seeing the point of putting on his armor and tunic he placed them in his bag. He purposely put his back to the fire, and thus hid his face from his two companions. Unsure if he should tell Breena about his past or not he searched aimlessly through his bag looking only for an excuse to say nothing.
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Post by Icor on Jul 13, 2005 22:23:11 GMT -4
The Drow became more like a coal statue as the orange flames slowly produced more light. His eyes lost their glow, and became nothing more than glazed obsidian rocks buried in his cold complexion. His fingers crunched into fists and stretched out, one by one while his wrists rested on his knees. The white of his eyes could be seen now and again as his attention broke from whoever he looked at. Breena, Gar-Ten, the wolf, the undead; his feelings toward each individual didn’t seem to have any difference (assuming there was any feeling at all).
The time passed slowly, and the rain became scarce. The sounds of it lifted up and blew over with the wind, and busy forest-life gradually took its place. It was still night. The light of the northern moon was daunting, and it reached their location without dispute. Its blue glow was everywhere, though its brightest spots were in the cold north.
Moa’ stood, and his back carefully straightened, as if his vertebra were stacking upon their partner’s shoulders one by one all the way up to his skull. He lifted his face, and looking rested, Durst noted his two companions with his emotionless gaze. He said nothing, pushing his shoulder into the brush which in turn led to him forcing his way out of the canopy, and into the dank woodlands.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 13, 2005 23:23:24 GMT -4
The woman’s head shifted to the side, her eyes forming slits as she felt the warmth of the wolf skin about her form. A silent wisp of breath was exhaled, her fingers slowly crawled up to grip upon the skin, her first thought was to throw it back at him, but that would prove childish, and it was not needed. She was a bit chilly, but nothing uncomfortable, though the pelt did feel rather comfortable to her.
“All is forgive, but don’t undermine me…” Breena said. Her voice soft, and barely able to be heard, and her last words turned into a low, almost growl-like sound.
If there was one thing to be warned of, it was Breena’s temper. Oh, she had bountiful amounts of patience, but not for the undermining man, not to say this man was doing so, but that was a thing she could not stand. Breena had no tolerance for the men that came her way and chuckled at her, ‘oh just a woman’, she got more often then naught. Even though her reputation was something fierce, they all thought it farce, tales just to keep them wary. No, no, they wish it were so. Breena was very skilled, and where she hailed from (the south), she was known very well.
A grunt came from Breena as her feet brought her towards a lowered branch; it was sagging due to the weight of her armor. The half-blood raised her arms and gripped upon the leather armor, bringing it closer towards the campfire. She placed it upon a stone next to the flames and for the most part, it was almost dry. Breena’s torso turned, her head following suit as she watched the Drow slip into the shadows, becoming one with the blanket of darkness. A curious brow arose as she watched where his figure once was. Perhaps it was true that he was leading Gar-Ten on a wild chase, or at least into a dead-end. It made no matter to her, she was involved in this as well, but she did not need them to accomplish such, did she? Hum.
The woman’s hands arose to be placed upon the top of her head; she sighed heavily as she lowered her body down to the ground. Slowly her knees shifted up and drew closer to her chest. Beryl eyes peered over kneecaps and tendrils of auburn slowly crept into the visage.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 14, 2005 1:04:54 GMT -4
“Undermine?” Gar-ten said almost to himself, “I honestly woundn't know where to begin” he said will a slight chuckle. Looking through his bag he pulled out the leather thong he used to tie his hair back, and thus he did. As usual he left a little covering his blind eye and scar. Standing up he looked around and saw that the Durst had left and Breena had sat down with his cloak still draped across her shoulders he started to push some branches aside as if he was leaving. He looked back at Breena and stated in a most nonchalant manner. “I’m going to try and find something to eat. I’m leaving my axe and bag here, if I take it with me it will only slow me down.” He moved out onto the rain once more. Yet just before he let the branches go he said without looking back “Keep safe” and with those words he let the branches go.
He didn’t even pause to look back or look around. He knew where everything was especially the undead. Malthag was still watching him, far enough away to be out of danger yet close enough to be watching. Gar-ten ran into the woods once more, moving with speed and grace. In the darkness he would have been invisible to most people, all but those well schooled in the art of tracking. Moving through the woods he would stop now and then to sniff at the air. By bonding himself with the wolf not only did he gain the ability to share his senses as the wolf, his senses gained strength as well. Oddly enough there were few animals around, and those that were, were very small. “Well if I catch enough rabbits I could make a nice stew” he mumbled to himself. And he went to work tracking down enough to make a stew for three.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 14, 2005 1:29:05 GMT -4
Grougrut rose to his feet once more, peering down at the dire wolf. He knew were only the dog and woman were at the moment so he assumed this a good a time as any to take shelter from the light of the north moon. He stumbled past Melthag and into the cover of the tree, circling around its trunk just far enough so that Breena could not see him. He simply sat and mumbled to himself, some sorts of necromantic chants in an ancient devious language. His axe rested at his side, he hardly liked being this close to the fire, he hates heat. In the dungeons were he spent the beginning of his existence, he worked near the furnaces, he grew a deep hate of heat when it took his first life almost 80 years ago. Now he simply avoids it, but he would rather risk fire that the light of the northern moons.
“You have known these friends for how long now? I give trust to only those who earn it. How did they earn your trust?”
Grougrut stated mischievously, his deceiver instincts kicking in again. He hardly cared for who he was deceiving as long as it benefits his in some way.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 14, 2005 2:03:35 GMT -4
“Mmm..” The woman muttered, disregarding the other words he spoke, not in rudeness, but her mind was slowly slipping to other things..
Breena lifted her head from her knees, visage glancing up at Gar-Ten as he too entered the blanket of darkness, (Though he was still somewhat visible and heard.) She pursed her lips and rested her chin upon her forearm, her eyes gazing blankly into the fire, lost in thought, the flames putting her in some sort of trance as they danced and licked along the fuel. Soon Breena was ripped from her thoughts, like a pebble tossed into water, her thoughts rippled away, her eyes shifting to the side to follow the voice of the bones. Her lip curled up before she spoke, her body slowly rising to an upright position.
“You can try your tricks on me, but I’m afraid they won’t work. I trust no one. Do you think I have my trust in those two? I have just met them today. I am not as daft as you think. So you can try to sway me, but I am afraid I know those tricks, for I live in the south as well.” Breena said, her words calm and soft. She shrugged her shoulders, pushing the wolf-skin cloak off of her shoulders, falling into a neat pile where she had been.
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Post by Icor on Jul 14, 2005 18:07:40 GMT -4
Durst was out of sight, and out of sound. He walked slowly through the woods, until his ever-growing weariness finally seemed to creep up on him and knock his legs out from under him. Several yards from the canopy, Moa’s knees crumpled and he fell heavily into the wet ground. The passing rain became no more than a trickle. His back luckily landed against a tree, and there he rested, his palms face-up on his outstretched legs. His head tilted back a little, and he swallowed heavily, and somehow, even though there was obviously something wheezing in his lungs, he managed to keep breath inside his body. Staring forward into the night, a figure appeared again.
The beast, masked, emerged from between a pair of trees; it made no audible indications, nor did it make a scent. It had no weapons, and it faced Durst, its head hunched forward. From inside the metal face-covering came a whispering voice which reached through the forest like the wind. Because of the stirring wild-life, this voice wouldn’t have been easily detectable.
“I begin to think I no longer make your heart beat faster with all the fear, Moaticus.”
“I have no heart”, Durst replied weakly.
The beast leant against a tree, it’s thin torso bending on about eight different hinges.
“Still can’t figure it out, can you? I’d help you, you know. But… We both know…”
The beast tapped the side of its head with a finger which seemed to be wrapped inside its black silk overcoat. It had hands. They simply couldn’t be seen.
Moa’ smiled bitterly, and mimicked the beast, tapping his temple with one, shaky hand. The Drow’s smile didn’t last long, however. Whatever deal of bliss was in Durst’s face left without record, or any self-recognition.
“She’ll take me, one day. She will.”
The beast began to giggle metallically. If anything, this would give its position away, though the sounds of the forest were still many, and the beast masked it sounds as carefully as it did its face.
“Let me guess: You… can’t live like this much longer”, it spoke, leaning toward the weak-looking Moa’.
Durst stared back into the mask of the beast, and his upper lip arched a little so that to bare his front teeth for a moment. The pun wasn’t funny – not to Durst, anyway. Only moments later, the entity, or shadow, or whatever the beast was, no longer filled the Drow’s sight. It was gone, and left no evidence of its existence.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
Above image is not actual size
Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Dec 2, 2005 4:16:39 GMT -4
I guess this is over then.
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Post by lordhebdar on Dec 2, 2005 16:16:46 GMT -4
ya, i think sadly i made my character.... overdramatic shall we say... -sigh- live and learn i guess
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Post by Icor on Dec 2, 2005 16:57:29 GMT -4
I RPed with myself. Truth is, too many people got involved. The most there should ever be is three, where one person doesn't even have a character, but rather plays various world elements - he/she says the time of day, weather, creatures maybe, citizens of a town, so on, so forth. That way the other two can just play their character and learn more about them, while the third still has fun.
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Post by Nymiane on Dec 6, 2005 14:26:01 GMT -4
Ehh.. I think a few people can be in it. But they atleast have to be experienced, and all need to be in the "know".
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Post by Icor on Dec 6, 2005 16:25:08 GMT -4
I agree that its up to the players. It just seems easier, (or just more orderly) the less people there are. Posts stay long, and you build more context.
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