Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II) — Legacy Forums

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#41

The barkeep slid a mug over to Aerex. "What was that all about?" he asked as he picked up the ale and quaffed a mouthful.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#42

Talia sighed. Was it just impossible that they could go a few hours without trouble? She supposed so. The bounty hunter, if that's what he was, would be back. Probably before they were ready for him. Mentally, she cursed Tristan. Damn that man, he should have just kept his mouth shut. Oh, she knew he'd been trying to help. It wasn't his fault, really. She turned to him, temporarily ignoring the big guy she'd brought with her. "I presume he was looking for Dujek. Do you know why?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#43

Squirrel stew? Just like mom used to make? “Thank you, nice lady, but Vorodon no be stay long, good? Vorodon want to know blind lady safe in house here. Friends here to be eyes for nice lady? I need for returning to Inn with friend Insecter. Bross, my friend from Army gone missing; I want will help to find. Insecter good at that!” he added in his most persuasive tone. The unfortunate woman didn’t seem to live in a very safe area, and the bulky veteran didn’t like the looks that some of the locals gave them as he escorted her to her home.

Letting himself in, he continued to reassure the woman in his broken Common, “If blind lady need help, Vorodon come quick like when get word! Vorodon strong; nobody mess with!” Too late, it occurred to the bulky Volgottir that he was probably wasting his time striking a heroic pose for a blind woman, but it helped him get a kink out of his back, so the effort wasn’t a complete waste. Fortunately, the woman’s humble residence had surprisingly high ceilings, so he was safe from banging his head as long as he watched for the beams.

As he picked up the scent of the warm stew, Vorodon promised himself that he would stay just long enough to be sure the lady was safe, and maybe down two or three bowls of squirrel stew, then he would hurry back to the inn. If he was to convince the others to help him look for Bross, he’d need a lot of time. After all, none of them spoke Volgotoi or even the patois that was common among the hill tribes; no, only the Common tongue. Even after all the years he had practiced it, his Common was still a bit rough.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#44

A low almost inaudible growl, marked the satisfaction of the creature that had been menacing Jjuldae with such malicious patience. After all this time of having to bear the torment of knowing that the murderous coward responsible for his brother's death yet walked free, polluting the memory of the Stone Soul people with every breath of his , the Old Ones had finally granted him the vengeance due to him. It was for this that the White Wolf had come that dark night, ready to sink its fangs into his throat and push him into the ferocious, almost fatal embrace of the Old Ones. In their eyes, he had been found worthy, and they had altered him dramatically, granting him inhumane powers to deal with the living shame whose very survival was a screaming insult to the memories of the Stone Soul people that had callously died as a direct result of the traitor's druid's vile cowardice. His own brother had simply been one among many.

Tonight was a perfect opportunity to end this game of cat and mouse that he had subjected his hapless enemy to for so long. Among the vast assortment of pitiable freaks and monstrosities thata hs gathered here to be subject to the public humilation they seemingly craved with such ardour, none would notice him. In the eyes of any stranger, he was simply another pathetic abombination out to delight the twisted minds of the human cattle with its hediousness. His razor keen vulpine nose had led him to the door of this shabby establishment, pointing him towards the presence of the traitor. Sharp ears heard every whisper exchanged. His loathesome foe had shrewdly chosen to seek the company of outlanders, trusting that their presence would be suffecient to deter the one that so relentlessly pursued him. But he was hardly their concern now. There was another danger they worried about, one whose dreaded return was imminent.

Either they would remain behind to fight the warriors that the bounty hunter would undoubtedly bring with him, or they would scatter in terror and flee.

It did not really matter which course of action they took. In the end, there would still be nothing to put itself between Jjuldae and his avenging jaws. His hunger for vengeance would finally be sated as he'd feast on the scum's flesh and blood.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#45

Watching the bounty hunter leave, Kadarin's thoughts echoed what doubtlessly the other thought. He would be back, and with friends. Before then, if had not already been watching the place, he would send someone in to see who else was associated with Dujek.
Heck, if he has proof of necromancy, he might be able to bring the entire town guard. Not that there was really any question of what the young mage persued, though it mattered little to Kadarin. There was plenty of room in the Art for all types of magic.

In any case, we are sitting ducks here when he comes back. If we leave, then he may be able to bring even worse threats to bear on the open road.

"Moruz," said kadarin quietly, "Do you think someone should follow the bounty hunter? Perhaps we should force the issue sooner then he wants..."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#46

Lost in the midst of thought, Tristan had already turned to return to the upstairs when Talia spoke. "I presume he was looking for Dujek. Do you know why?"

He turned, giving a small sigh of relief at the lack of confrontation, and replied. "He was a bounty hunter. Apparently some small-town villagers hired him to track down Dujek for necromancy." The priest's eyes glazed over slightly as he stared off into the space between Talia and her companion.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#47

Vorodon and Maegla

As Vorodon (daintily) slurped his stew, Maegla the blind talked and sipped her tea. She first regaled the half-ogre with mundane minutiae, describing in detail how her grandparents had come to Ganse to try their hand at phosphorus mining, and how she herself had learned and mastered the tailor's profession. On and on she spoke as if she felt perfectly comfortable inundating her new acquaintance with her life story. She spoke of how cruel the young men of Ganse had been to her as she was growing up, and finally, she blurted out something that made Vorodon nearly choke on his spoon.

Apparently, Maegla had met and befriended Bross the Volgottor, the erstwhile city guardsman. Their friendship soon turned to more, and eventually the two became lovers. Maegla admitted that she and the ogre were secretly “wed”, secretly because Maegla feared the reprisal of bigoted and racially prejudiced Gansians, who bore little love for the kind-hearted giant, despite his loyal and effective service to the city. She went on to say how rumors began to spread, following the lovers’ union, despite the couple’s secrecy and discretion. She explained that Hepple Farax, a senior lieutenant in the City Guard, who had long pined for the beautiful blind woman, had it “in” for Bross, and the ogre’s standing in the guard became even more strained and difficult. It was only a month back, when Hepple had Bross attacked one night by hired thugs led by Hepple himself, that a climax was reached. The ensuing melee resulted in Farax’s lame leg, and though he was quite injured, Bross survived that night. No one could actually prove that “disguised” city guards, under Farax’s command were to blame for the skirmish, but Hepple Farax could only stare at Bross with silent fury and indignation, when Bross showed up at the barracks the next morning, undeterred, unafraid, and ready to work.

It was only a few days later that Farax “volunteered” Bross to escort some visiting dignitary north to the Great Escarpment. The half-ogre could not refuse an order, and bidding farewell to his love, did as he was bade.

Vorodon finally noticed that he had finished his fourth bowl of stew as he listened to this woman’s tale, and several hours had passed.

Maegla’s last words as Vorodon thanked the woman for her hospitality and rose to leave were this:

“I do not show it yet, dear Vorodon”, she lowered her voice, “But I carry Bross’ child in my belly.”

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#48

Aerex snorted. "Hmph. Even if it were true, he has no jurisdiction in Ganse. He'd have to have a Letter of Marque and Repraisal of some sort." And what if he does? a voice in Aerex's head countered. Would you let him drag Dujek off to death at the hands of an angry mob? The constable shook the thoughts from his head. It was something to worry about if the situation presented itself, not now. "I think we should keep an eye on him. Not provoke him, mind you, but watch him." He turned to Glorden, whom he almost forgot was there. "Have you ever seen that one, Sir Blarchtmir?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#49

Jjuldae had grown impatient with this rabble of settled people. So blind, so empty. So irritatingly broken in their unities, forced to bicker amongst themselves until they settled on a purpose.
He cleared his throat, snarling gravelly and deep.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#50

The bounty hunter left. Moruz silently watched the man until the closing door hid him, then glanced to Kadarin as the mage addressed him, "Do what you will - I, for one, will leave him be." the glass shifter looped the sickle he was holding to his belt and moved to a nearby wall, leaning against it passively. Necromancy was foreign to him - while it is practiced on occasion by the Ouzquin Dremorix, it is very rare in the deserts, and Moruz hadn't given it an opinion one way or another. These lands were not his world so he did not feel the need to comment on the bounty hunters' motives.
The vulture-like newcomer began to growl, and Moruz paid it no mind - speaking and cutting in before Jjuldae had even finished his audible snarl, and addressing all of the group present, "At first light tomorrow I intend on travelling north; I hear there is a place you outsiders manufacture glass just beyond the great escarpment, and I need to obtain more barbs for my weapon. If any wishes to come, make sure you are awake when the sun rises. Whoever does not want to join me; Axtrami light your path." The Glass Shifter raised his hand to touch the hemisa inside his circlet as a form of farewell, before lowering it to his side and pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning against. He intended on walking from dawn to dusk tomorrow and to do that, he needed rest - perhaps tonight will prove a more comfortable sleep than the last few.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#51

Kadarin shrugged - though he knew how to travel streets and maintain a low profile, he knew his limits. Instead, he was going upstairs to let Dujek know what happened. Dujek was most helpful during the item research, and though he dabbled in areas Kadarin chose to avoid, he was a fellow magus.

As for the morning, Kadarin was an early riser in any case, so he would see what happened then.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#52

Leaving the Landlubber, his pockets a touch more empty than when he came and his head full of ideas and his belly full of wine, Vee made his was back to his room back at the Kettle. He would have plenty of time to practice some of the whip maneuvers that Vallance had told him off, but not now. He wanted to go north, but he wanted to see if any of the others would accompany him. Up until the night when the Xaren had burst through the floor of the Inn he had been going it alone, but since working with a group he had done quite alot better.

"Ah Moruz, just the person I was looking for," Vee felt a pain, as he would have taken Aeth as well, if he wasn't gone to Senren's bosom. "I was looking for some companions to head north to the Great Escarpment. I got an interesting lead from the head of the traveling circus."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#53

"Well, I heard of one Veitch, if this he be, then be wary - 'tis said he's mean as a Drow stepmother. As I heard, some sorceress ran off with his betrothed, if the rumor's to be believed, and no kidnapping it was! Since that day oh so fateful and amusing (for others, that is) he held a passionate hatred of all mages and most women, and wasn't pleasant to others as well - not that he was a philanthrope before. And, allegedly, while he's greedy like a dragon, he does this just for the thrill of the hunt. But then, ya don't believe every rumour, do ya? And if he turns out to be THAT Veitch, we can still smack him, and smack him good. With no guild to back him up - none will have him! - it will be a swift smacking indeed."
Turning towards the tinkling and sparkling outlander, Glordren added: "And, sir, even if none other decide to join you, our paths coincide - I was seeking to explore ancient ruins of religious significance in exactly that direction, to unearth lore and whatever of interest may lie within, and, exploring being such lonely biz, was looking for a few steeled fellows, hard as rock to stand 'gainst ill, and lively of spirit to golden up my day... but let us first raise a toast to all of ye, for I know that at least MY lady smiles at your valliant deeds!"
Scaling a barstool, Glordren tossed a coin to the 'keep: "Some feisty brandy, will ya?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#54

As Maegla talked, the taste of the blind woman’s badly overspiced squirrel stew reminded Vorodon of his childhood, even as it made his eyes water. Memories rose to the surface, idyllic times from his youth.

Papa was at the battered table on the mountain cabin’s shady back porch, cleaning and dressing his kills after a successful hunt. While he worked, the hulking mercenary Volgottir jovially gave pointers to his young son, chatting with the lad in the guttural language of the Volgotoi people. These times were always exciting for little Vorodon, as his father often made presents of the colorful tattoos with which the hill bandits adorned their skin.

“Little Volye, you want to be careful when you’re dealing with the city folk,” he suggested. “Their livers are often swollen and unhealthy because of all the lies they tell. They aren’t like the Hill Folk; they betray even their own kin. It’s better to devour their hearts instead; that way you can be sure that their Lower Spirits, the spirits of their weaknesses, won’t come back to haunt you.

“Their hearts will make you strong. You can add them to stew; they need to simmer slowly, and then be chopped finely. Otherwise they’re chewy as shoe leather,” advised the massive creature as he set some of the lean brigand’s better cuts aside to be roasted later.

“Volye, you need to get cleaned up and come inside,” called his mother from the cabin’s humble kitchen. Her voice was musical with the sing-song dialect of the Hill People. “The squirrel stew is ready!”

“Papa, do I HAVE to? Getting cleaned up before I eat is so dumb! I’ll just get dirty again,” the petulant child pointed out. “And I’m not hungry, anyway!”

“You listen to your Mama, little one,” his father ordered, his voice rumbling the way it always did when he wasn’t to be argued with. “I understand that cleaning yourself so often is silly, but you need to listen to your mother. Someday you’ll be all grown up and have a wife to order you around, so you’d better get used to doing what you’re told.”

Vorodon’s reverie was cut off by the sordid tale that Maegla shared with him. At first, he found it hard to credit, but he was starting to learn the blind woman’s body language, and she gave no indication of treachery. So, Senior Leftenant Hepple Faerax man, had ambushed Bross so that he could steal Bross’ woman, then had forced him to leave town when that plan failed. Of all the treacherous, womanish tricks!

After digesting that unpleasant information for a few minutes, Vorodon reached a few equally unpleasant conclusions: Leftenant Faerax had to be the one responsible for Maegla’s rape as well. The man was either a fool or he would have more treachery prepared; he couldn’t risk that Bross would come home unscathed to seek revenge. Now that Maegla had found Vorodon to champion her, it wouldn’t be long before Senior Leftenant came after him as well. Very well, if that was to happen, Vorodon would be ready!

“Nice Lady Maegla! You come now for Inn! Friend Insecter hear need for to how happen! Bad mans come more, need for Maegla take things and come for Inn! Then Vorodon help. Nice Lady, for to hide must! Manys mens in town strange; strange mens make guard more… faoss… to work, they no to found can you. Ott!” he rapidly told the girl in garbled Common, seized by the suspicion that they didn’t have much time. Forcing himself to slow down, he began speaking more carefully, “Maegla, Leftenant not be happy much you found way escape him. He want to try stop. I need help to project, no… protect Maegla. Take you things in here, we hide you! Then Vorodon go find Bross. Good?”

Moving rapidly, he began preparing for the perilous journey back to the Inn. They'd better stay in the shadows and back alleys, he thought to himself.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#55

Just as Moruz was preparing to leave to his room and retire for the night, Vee burst through the door, "Ah Moruz, just the person I was looking for! I was looking for some companions to head north to the Great Escarpment. I got an interesting lead from the head of the traveling circus." The glass shifter paused and glanced at Vee before nodding, "We leave with the dawn, Vee. Get some sleep." Before taking up his own advice, Moruz shifted his gaze to Glordren, "You are welcome to follow, and you can try to convince me to aid you while we travel, Raixtni. However, dawn comes ever-closer, and there is much walking to do tomorrow; I suggest you get some sleep." With that said, Moruz made his way upstairs to his room, and lay himself down to sleep.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#56

Aerex's brow furrowed. Too many decisions to make! What should he do, if anything, about Veitch? Where should he go from here? There was little else in Ganse, save exploring the gypsy town which would provide but a little passing entertainment, only delaying the inevitable. There was still the matter of the Imperial silver bars that needed to be reported, and he felt guilt in leaving Aethelstan's body to be left to scavengers. He pulled his leather-bound criminal codex out and flipped to the back. A title page was labeled "Appendix C: Outposts & Stations". "I may join you to the North, friend, if indeed that's where I need to be," he muttered to Glorden. Aerex thumbed through the appendix, looking for the nearest outpost to Ganse...

(occ: Up to you, dear GM, where that outpost may lie.)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#57

Vorodon helped the blind woman quickly gather her valuables, wrapping the most fragile items in cloth and bundling all together into a depressingly small package, a few dozen items that summed up two lives that had only begun to intertwine. Maegla’s humble treasures fit into a sack that Vorodon could pick up with one hand: A bone comb carved with flowers, a case of needles and colorful threads, a battered set of bronze broaches, items only Maegla could truly value. Her meager wardrobe completed the package. She fetched a small box from under her bed; this she carried herself, tucked securely under the girdle of her simple gown. Vorodon thought that he recognized the box from Bross’ days in the Army, when Bross had kept a few personal items in it. Worthless, it was still Bross’ most precious treasure, a gift from his peasant mother.

After stopping to water the tiny plot of garden herbs she had growing beside her door, the awkward pair set out. They kept to the alleys and back ways, Vorodon’s helm concealing his face as he shambled along in the shadows, Maegla’s hand grasping his massive arm.

Despite the late hour, some travelers were yet about. Drunken roisterers meandered confusedly, wandering into the alleys to relieve themselves or be ill. A band of young ruffians swaggered closer, oblivious to the hulking warrior hidden within the darkness. He drew forth one of the deadly missiles that filled his quiver, but the bravos suddenly froze as they heard the scraping noise of his armor’s overlapping plates. Staring blindly into the darkness, the toughs suddenly veered fearfully away from the alleyway and headed down an adjacent street.

Soon, the two of them found themselves a few minutes’ walk from the Harpy’s Kettle. As Vorodon stalked down the filth-littered alleyway toward his goal, he froze as Maegla’s hand clamped down on his arm. Seconds later, he could make out the voices she had heard passing: A trio of guardsmen, profanely cursing the night, their commander, and anything else that crossed their path. As they waited silently there, woodenly waiting for the guardsmen to pass, Vorodon glanced down to see scuttling shapes gliding among the garbage around their feet. Massive centipedes were curiously inspecting the invading feet that had entered their trash-strewn realm. With agonizing caution, Vorodon picked Maegla up from the ground, sure that he would be heard moving by the nearby men. He could feel the disgusting creatures feeling their way up his stout boots, scuttling over his greaves; finally he could stand it no longer! Expecting to feel the creature’s toxic bite at any second, he kicked out, flinging the creepy myriapod off his leg! It flew quietly into a pile of filth several feet away. As the irritated creatures began to boil forth from the alley’s trash heaps, he hurriedly strode from the alley, stumbling over debris as he went.

From the far end of the alley, Vorodon could hear the curious guardsmen approaching the strange racket. They approached the alley, but then their leader stopped them, calling out, “Hold it! There’s a nest of myrie bugs in there! Keep clear, they have a nasty bite!”

While the cautious guardsmen debated, Vorodon quickly made his way clear. Finding a parallel street, he and Maegla rushed across the last bit to the Harpy’s Kettle, eager to share their information with the others of the “Treasured Chest”.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#58

As the dwarf shouted for brandy, Jjuldae shut his eyes, and breathed in serenity.
"So be it," he said. "This was not my choice, but is as good as any. I shall follow with your company, if you should not be angered by it; it is my desire to go where the mountain child shall. I sense our destinies intertwined."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#59

The Harpy's Kettle, Upstairs/Downstairs

--Aerex read from his codex and determined that north, situated along the cliffs of Great Escarpment, there indeed was an imperial outpost. The farthest flung of the Empire’s outposts in fact, and one of its oldest, still acknowledged by Jantir and still actively manned due to its strategic location along the endless, jagged fault-line, separating the young city-states of Cazulun in the north from the ancient, profligate lands of the Nameless Empire in the south.

--Moruz ascended the inn stairs in silence, disappearing in the shadowy corridor. Dujek was still fast asleep and painfully snoring when Kadarin had gone to check on him. Mouse was curved up in a ball below the bed resembling a napping cat.

--Tristan was in the taproom brooding, as Tristan was wont to do, studying the companions. He was not sure what to make of the new “additions”. The dwarf with gold coins tattooed on the palms of his meaty hands, the “mountain-child”, as his equally bizarre companion had called him, would have to prove his loyalty before he could be trusted, the priest considered. His people’s voracious greed was well known to Tristan. The druid, the eerie, crimson-painted man of the Stone Soul, was even more worrisome to the Triguian. It was Trigu’s light, which had beaten back the gray of the “Old Ways” over the decades and few Triguians and Druids, rare as the latter were, ever saw eye to eye on anything.

--Glordren Blarchtmir, along with a few others, was deep in his cups, well past midnight. The dwarf regaled the group with tales and saluted and toasted incessantly. Vee had to admit this “mountain-child” was likable.

--For the second time that night, Jjuldae felt his nemesis near. He could smell it even. It had grown bold, the druid surmised. It was drawing closer. Let it come, he thought dourly, it was time to face his pursuer. Let the eldritch beast come.

--A soft knock sounded on the second story room door, where Kadarin was checking on the dreaming Dujek. Kadarin turned to see the door open ajar. Tristan stood there and nodded, slowly making his way to the sleeping necromancer, and sitting on the bed beside him.

“I have come to heal him friend”, he said glancing at Kadarin briefly. “The mage could use Trigu’s blessing anew, and while he sleeps, he cannot complain or decry Trigu, eh friend?” Tristan smiled a wide grin.

--Meanwhile back downstairs, Talia sat at the bar absent-mindedly staring and picking at a cold, roasted duck leg. Her thoughts were her own, but at the sight of the half-ogre and his escort entering the inn, she turned with mild interest. Vorodon had just rushed through the doors, an attractive, milky-eyed woman clinging to the half-ogre’s arm. Introductions were made anew, the woman shyly nodding, Vorodon talking and gesturing at his new companions.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#60

Talia regarded Vorodon and his companion with interest. They seemed an ill-matched pair, but she had the feeling that they fit together, somehow. She hadn't decided what she was going to do yet. She'd avenged her caravan and had done her duty. Now she was realizing that she'd been so focused on that that she hadn't given a thought to what she would do after. She didn't want to find a caravan to join just yet. Maybe she'd go north with the others, they were good people, and she could depend on them in a fight, mostly.
She'd decide before morning. Right now, there were other things going on. She eyed the big ogre and his friend. "You two look like you've had a bit of excitement."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#61

Pleasantly warmed by the brandy and the interesting company, Glordren studied the company - an interesting bunch, plus, if they were able to co-exist with such colorful companions they sure had an accomodating character.
The chit-and-chat went on, just the wizard and Triguan priest had withdrawn.
"So, inspector - we'll be carrying that imperial gold north, over the mountains? Sure not an easy task, for they're treacherous and untamed... still, 'tis a plan I understand - I couldn't be happy spending gold that is not mine either. It knows where it belongs..." Sipping a gulp of the heavy draught Glordren added: "I sure must get gold I can honestly call mine - see, there's a girl back home, a lass buxom and strong as the bones of the earth, skilled mason to boot, who's just waiting to marry me - provided I earn a nice dowry with these hands. My divine lady, too, would be delighted by an offering of gold pure and shining" he grinned "now you know why I left home. Whether merchant, crafter or adventuring priest I be, all of them are ones, and will earn me a place nice and cozy. What's with you, mister Matare: why are you hunting criminals in the wilderness, rather than the busy streets of a city? There sure must be more of them there, aye?"
The dwarf slammed his mug against the table: "Well, we'll see how much scum for hanging is in the woods, rightey?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#62

Safely ensconced within the Harpy’s Kettle, Vorodon planned to waste no time. This girl needed their help. Carefully guiding Maegla to a secluded corner table, the hill warrior asked Talia, Vee, and the others to join them. Once there, he began laboriously to explain what had happened.

“Name woman here have Maegla; she marry secret of friend guard Bross. She need help much bad, guard Senior Leftenant Hepple Faerax send Bross go Greet Cliff, then Leftnant hurt nice lady. Leftenant want Bross die; then he steal Bross woman!”

Witnessing the puzzled expressions of his new comrades’ faces, the hulking halfbreed turned and asked Maegla to explain. She was clearly dismayed. Hesitant to confide her dilemma in the safety of her own home, Maegla was mortified at the idea of sharing her secrets with a bunch of strangers in an inn. She tried haltingly to explain, fighting back tears. This wasn’t what she wanted!

Bit by bit, Vorodon was able to coax the important parts of the sordid tale from Maegla. Now, if the others knew someone that could shelter the unfortunate girl, she would be safe while he went north to find Bross.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#63

"Well electroplate me and call me an idol." Vee said, tipping back what might be his last cup of wine for the night. "The brute brings us about the prettiest thing I've seen since I last saw my mother's eyes, and in need to boot. That happens to be the direction that I am going, so I see no harm in lending a helping hand. I've never been able to say no to a pretty lady." Vee said.

"But it will have to wait until morning. It's too late to set out tonight, and half of our companions have already retreated into Maya's Embrace. You look on edge, perhaps I could buy you a cup of wine?" Vee offered Maegla, quite sincere in his intentions, or perhaps his lack of intentions.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#64

Kadarin looked at Tristan carefully. He wonders if the accusations are true

"I don't know about that, Tristan - in many lands, casting spells/prayers upon people without their consent is a rather serious offense. Now, from what I've seen of your diety and his power, I am quite impressed, but if someone cast a spell on me without my consent, I would consider them an enemy. Wait for the morning and have your debate with him then. If he does burst into flame from Trigu's holy power, I'd rather be somewhere else anyway."
A sudden thought. Kadarin moved slightly to make it easier bring the wand of Chaos to his hand.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#65

Within the taproom, Tristan enjoyed a cup of mildly spiced wine that he had finally gotten once the bounty hunter had left. He contemplated reading more of the very interesting booklet he had gotten from the chapel, then decided against it. Such reading was best done with a clear head, and his was muddled in a way that no wine could ever do. Thoughts of Dujek haunted him, and he felt a nagging pain inside his chest each time he thought of what he would be held responsible for in the hereafter if the man truly was a necromancer. Finally, he decided. Whether or not he would be held responsible for actions not even confirmed as truth, he could still be a friend and witness to the very lost man.

The Triguian stood up, stretching a few kinks out of his back before making his way upstairs towards where Dujek lay sleeping and Kadarin stood vigil over him. One more candle to ward off the darkness surrounding the maybe-necromancer's soul wouldn't hurt.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#66

Waking from his dreams of his childhood and travels his thoughts briefly alighted on the last place he'd rested his head, in Thorp Tareholt. A nice place for a couple of days, until that stupid brat of the Captain's had come charging into his room at the inn without even knocking, and had caught sight of the walking hand he had been working on at the time. Barely had time to gather up my books before I had to run out of the tavern as the villagers burnt it to the ground..

"If he does burst into flame from Trigu's holy power, I'd rather be somewhere else anyway."

"Wha-," opening his eyes he saw the priest and Kadarin standing by his door, whispering back and forth.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#67

--Vee had never imbibed more wine than he did that night.

Trying to keep up with Glordren the dwarven priest, who drank his brandy as if it was water, proved foolish, but it had been no less fun trying, the rogue thought, as he threw his last dart at the corkboard and staggered downwards from the exertion. His head felt leaden, and he decided to remain on the cold inn floor awhile, just to rest a bit. He was in a deep slumber less than a minute before completing his last thought.

--Jjuldae roosted in the corner of the taproom doing his best to ignore the festivities around him, all the while sipping his potent herbal drink of choice. Only he could hear a wind rise outside, the gentle, but insistent susurrus of the night.

--“As you say, friend, as you say”, Tristan smiled at Kadarin. He touched his hand to Dujek’s dented forehead and muttered what sounded like a prayer. Dujek was fast asleep. Ten feet above him on a wooden shelf, Koschei kept a vigil on his master. As Tristan reached out to “bless” Dujek, the lizard leapt down with murderous intentions, landing squarely on the Triguian’s outstretched arm and quickly scurrying upwards in an attempt to bite the priest’s eye. Tristan rose suddenly and violently shook the lizard off his shoulder, sending the petite reptile crashing into the opposite wall. Seeing the look on Kadarin’s face, Tristan smiled once more, a smile devoid of any merriment, then unexpectedly lunged at the young mage, an alien hatred in his eyes, effortlessly drawing a dagger from his robe. A dagger dripping viscous globs, Kadarin had a moment to notice, gaping in astonishment at the coming priest, as he fumbled for his own wand!

Finally Dujek woke. "Wha-"

At exactly that moment, the door opened again and Tristan(!), Kadarin cursed his eyes, stared at the scene unfolding before him.

--Vorodon told Talia his companion's sordid tale, while Maegla was doing her best to remain meek and unobtrusive.

--Glordren was playing darts with Vee and Aerex, up until the moment Vee passed out from drink. Aerex drank and played, but was lost in his own thoughts. He decided that he definitely enjoyed the dwarf’s company however, and paused for a bit, before answering the priest.

What's with you, mister Matare: why are you hunting criminals in the wilderness, rather than the busy streets of a city? There sure must be more of them there, aye?"

--Moruz slept...and dreamt. His lost fingers were on his hand once more. He was back in Kalcha, as men called it, the Black-Snake Desert.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#68

No time for a spell...

Remembering the visions of the wand of Chaos, Kadarin invoked the power of the wand, hoping something useful would happen.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#69

Had he drank too much, or was he just hallucinating? The face he was seeing was...himself?! A page flew through his mind from an old manuscript on dangerous creatures about a number of creatures that could change shape at will. Most were rather nasty, and none followed the Light, which meant that something which had taken his face was not him, and most definitely was not a good being.

Of course, all presumed knowledge about goodness aside, the creature was attacking Kadarin, which condemned it from the start in the priest's eyes. "Father, bless this weapon as in ages past!"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#70

"DIE!!!" the lizard yelled as it jumped on Tristan. The stupid thin-

Dujek rolled out of the bed and stumbled to the wall as Tristan grabbed a knife and went to attack him. And then the door opened and the priest stood in the door. The priest?! Dujek decided he must been dreaming still, but dying in a dream is no less real. Where's my cane, or my knife?

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#71

No sooner had the tired-looking priest taken his leave of the common room than a strange ruckus broke out from upstairs. Vorodon could hear the man’s voice ringing out in some sort of battle cry. His abortive attempt to explain Bross’ secret marriage cut off, he rose and took the stairs, three at a time, drawing his battle axe as he rushed up the stairs. As he thundered toward the fray, he shouted the ancient battle cry his father had taught him as a child, “Dran Ou Melka’an! (Which translates roughly as, “Don’t MAKE me come upstairs, or you’ll be sorry!)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#72

It took Talia a few minutes to make head or tail of the story, then she nodded decisively. She turned to the blind woman. "Well, if this lieutentant person is after you, then clearly you can't stay here. Might not be the best idea to go home tonight. I've got a double, you can stay with me, then head out with us tomorrow. I think we're all going nor-"

Suddenly she heard a shout from upstairs. It sounded like... Ah, bloody hell, the others had gotten in trouble. She jumped up and ran for the stairs. Hopefully the girl would be safe enough in the meantime. Vorodon had also started for the stairs. Fortunately, it was big enough for two to go side by side.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#73

Aerex's dart slammed into the worn cork board. "Very true, Sir Blarchtmir," he said coldly, aiming his second dart. "There are many, many wicked men in the cities." He threw again, the dart sailing into the target. He glanced over at Maegla again. Overhearing Vorodon's telling of her tale was almost too much for him. He had seen women being used all too often in Jantir's cold streets. But by an officer of the law? The anger was overwhelming. Something snapped...

* * *
"I don't know what you want me to do, Aerex," Jorgan said, leaning against the brick building that formed one side of the dark alley.

"I mean, we've got to do something, right?" Aerex pleaded. He had told his old friend everything that had happened, from the investigation's findings to his demotion.

Jorgan's gloved hand rubbed his iron gray beard. "So he just, like, denied the whole thing?" He still seemed doubtful the whole situation Aerex described was true.

Aerex's eyes widened. "Yes!" he said emphatically, his breath visible in the cold moonlight. "And it was so clear, Jorgan, so clear he knew what was going on. I mean, you believe me, right?"

Jorgan's eyes darted. "Yes..." he said slowly, nodding almost imperceptively. "Yes, I believe you."

"You... you know something, don't you?" Aerex asked. He could tell when Jorgan was saying less than he knew. Even with the older man's impressive twenty years on the force, he couldn't hide his thoughts very well.

Jorgan bit his lip, considering his words. "Sentes," he blurted, his eyes shifting again as though expecting someone to pop out from around the corner. "Tairo Sentes."

Aerex blinked. "Sen... your partner? Your subordinate?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Jorgan nodded shamefully. "He's been selling contraband to Sergent Alyr for a few months now. He thinks I don't know." Jorgan snorted, puffs of warm air flowing from his nostrils. "He's a d**n young punk, thinkin' I don't know."

"Why haven't you reported him?" Aerex hissed.

Jorgan's eyes finally locked with Aerex. They were cold and hard. "To who, Aerex? Who would I report him to? Alyr's my superior, for Dynast's sakes! He'd have me sacked!" His voice was defensive and pleading at the same time.

Aerex sputtered. He didn't know, of course. "Well... well we've got to do something."

Jorgan sighed, his eyes closing. "All we can do is abide by the law, Aerex. We're bound by a code. They don't follow it, that's their problem."

"It's our problem too."

"Is it?" Jorgan demanded. "And why should it be? When the whole system is corrupt, you've just got to..." He searched for the right words. "Take it like it is." He waved his hand as though trying to shoo the thought away like a bug.

Aerex stepped back and shook his head. "That's it, Jorgan? Just 'take it like it is'? I don't think I can do that."

Jorgan stood up straight, removing himself from the wall. He was a good head and a half taller than Aerex. The officer crossed his thick arms over his barrel chest. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

* * *
Aerex grabbed his mug and downed the last bit of ale. "Brother Glorden, I think I shall retire for the night," he said in a strange monotone. Without waiting for a response, he slammed a few coppers on the bar and marched angrily upstairs. If not for his thoughts, he would have heard the commotion sooner. Now halfway up the stairs, he regretted having left his sword in the inn room. He grabbed the dagger from his boot and rushed up the stairs.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#74

Yarrr. By Mordairn's hammer and Morenna's black stare. Corruption. Rapists. Spineless svine. The orkses were not so bad - at least they were honest about smashing your head in!
Glordren made a mental note, marking the names of the felons. As soon as the lass was in safety, he'd return and hammer a few lines of sense into the slabs of their souls. Or their skulls. Preferrably. Justice may be blind, but it's servants are not.
Just then, the ruckuss broke out. with screams upstairs and the sound of steel drawn. On the chair next to where the inspector had sat, his sword rested, a blade that would not be drawn this eve.

The stairs - well, Glordren had no hope that with the Volgottoi and the others upstair, he'd move his broad frame through to the fray, though his fists itched for battle after hearing the tales of human treason. No sense in trying that. Grabbing his trusty morningstar, he charged the other direction, out, to stand below the windows of the guest wing - if anything they faced tried to escape, he'd bash it good. In the shadow of a barrel stack he stood, readying his shield to batter down anything suspicious.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#75

The druid remained seated. Shouts and commotions held sway in this structure, and it's hot, humid, dense air, thick and contained, clotted in Jjuldae's lungs unhealthily. He looked inward, towards the eternal truths in his self-divinity. Just beyond the wall, he could hear the wind in the street, rustling, hushed, furtively hissing, a lonely night-time street tenant inhabiting the spaces that the settled folk had abandoned while the moon ruled the sky.

Jjuldae searched for the senseless whisper, the white-noise voice of the emissaries of the Far Away. His incantations rose to beat themselves pointlessly against the ears of the Old Ones. He had to know where it was. It was coming, and soon, and it was bold. The White Wolf, with its feet in the unseen world, now ate away the miles between itself and Jjuldae. All of them were in danger because of his own cowardice.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#76

Normally Moruz would have woken in an instant at the sound of commotion four rooms down; a heavy sleeper dies in his dreams, in the desert. But the last week he had been drifting in and out of half-sleep due to the pain in his face, and this night was the first time he could fully succumb to unconciousness. Moruz slept... and dreamt.

Darkness turned to a haze, and Moruz found himself standing in the middle of a featureless desert. Though there were no distinguishing characteristics, he felt the coarseness of the Kalcha desert, or Karikun in his language. The scene flickered.
Moruz raised his hands in front of his face - ten stubby fingers of a child stood in his vision. Moruz was twelve again and he stood, now, in the middle of the main row of western Bareka; the Ouzquin Dremorix capital. A small crowd had formed, and Moruz found himself at the front of it, staring in bewilderment at another child; perhaps fourteen years old, and kneeled on the ground, nursing his crushed left arm. The second child had been in the wrong place at the wrong time - he had darted from around a corner and spooked a horse, which reared up and bucked the poor adolescent with its hooves. His left arm had been caught underhoof, and he also showed a plethora of bruises and wounds - blood mixed with the sand. It was not the broken arm, or the child itself that had Moruz so shocked, however. It was the sight of a plain glass circlet laid - cracked in three pieces - on the ground, and all around it broken shards of glass which could have made up a small orb. In his dreams, Moruz felt the blood drain from his face.
After some time of staring, Moruz realised nobody was stepping in to aid the weeping child, and he took a step forward with the intent of helping. After a single step, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and Moruz looked up to see his father standing above him, shaking his head, "No, Moruz. It is too late; he is dead." The image of his father flickered for just an instant to a cloaked man, figure hidden by a drawn hood and a glint where his eyes should be, before falling back to his father, and Moruz thought he smelled rain on the wind. The child turned back to look at the horse-victim again, and in its place sat a pale, emaciated halfling, a sadistic grin on it's face and the glaze of death in its eyes. The ghoul leapt at Moruz with a hiss, and everything turned to black. Darkness reigned.

In the bed at the harpy's kettle, Moruz twisted and turned.

Moruz sat crying in the middle of a small crowd, nursing a crushed arm. He had just run around the corner and frightened a horse which reared up, trampling him, breaking his arm, two fingers, a toe and knocking his circlet off his forehead, which shattered on the ground. Blood mixed with the sands beneath him. Some people stopped as if to help, but when they noticed the shattered circlet, they shed a single tear then walked on. After some time an outsider child made his way to the front of the crowd and watched Moruz, who reached a pleading hand out to the outsider. The second child took a step towards Moruz, before bieng stopped by a shirtless dwarf - twin axes tattooed across his chest - who placed his hand on his shoulder and spoke, "No, Percy. It is too late; he is dead." Percy nodded and turned away, glancing at Moruz's weeping mother and father who stood at the forefront of the crowd before disappearing in the group of people. On top of the building across the street, a single vulture alighted, staring at the dying child hungrily.
"What are you all DOING!?" Two people pushed their way through the crowd - obviously outsiders - and stood before Moruz, one kneeling before him and trying to stanch the bleeding while the other was staring angrily at the crowd, demanding of them all why they were not helping. Just before Moruz blacked out, he heard a voice answer in the crowd, "Why stitch the wounds of the dead? It will not bring them back to life." The light gave way to black. Darkness reigned.

Moruz shuffled uncomfortably in his sleep; nearly roused by a loud shout some rooms down. Unconsciousness clinged on, however, and dreams swirled once more.

Moruz sat crying in the middle of a small crowd, nursing a crushed arm. He had just run around the corner, and ran into a furious half-ogre, who trampled him before running away, muttering something about insects and swatting at flies. Chasing the ogre was a man with manacles held out in both hands, as though he was trying to capture the large creature. Moruz's arm was crushed, and the circlet about his head had been knocked off and shattered on the ground. Blood mixed with the sands beneath them. As people walked by, one woman knelt down and soaked a paper scoll in Moruz's blood before walking away calmly. After some time, Moruz noticed a stocky dwarf at the front of the crowd, garnished with gold and silver necklaces and bracelets. Tattooes of gold rings were imprinted on his palms. After some time watching Moruz, the dwarf made to step forward, but next to him a man with a whip in his belt and a severed head in his free hand, placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder and spoke, "No, Glordren. It is too late; he is dead." The dwarf nodded and turned away, glancing up at two weeping mages; one with a lizard standing on his shoulder and the other with a mouse standing on his.
"What art thou DOING!?" Two people pushed their way through the crowd. One wearing crimson robes with an image of a rising sun on the front, and the other with blood streaked across his garments, and two mirrored coins resting over his eyes. As the blood-stained man kneeled down to stanch Moruz's bleeding, the coins fell from his face and the cold glaze of death was apparant on his eyes. On the other side of the street, on top of a building Moruz saw a bald, painted man, arms crossed regally in front of him - the man spoke defiantly, "Why stitch the wounds of the dead? It will not bring them back to life." The sun was blotted out by the ghastly face of a dead priest, who bared his teeth hostilely. Everything went black. Darkness reigned.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#77

Room # 306 (Rolling and “turns” involved)

Vorodon nearly knocked Aerex from the stairs in his mad dash upwards, but the action in Dujek’s room was already taking place.

As the knife-wielding Tristan lunged at Kadarin, the mage recoiled but not before pointing and firing his newly acquired wand at the charging “priest”.

Meanwhile the real Tristan chanted an ear-splitting orison, summoning a mace of cerulean blue with veins of crackling crimson light cascading along its length, as if from thin air. With a battle cry, Tristan came forward.

The Triguian advanced on the imposter, but suddenly an exploding bolt of searing light, blinded all present within the room. Stunned confusion was followed less than a second later with the awful screams of Tristan and Veitch. They screamed as if they were burning alive.

From Kadarin’s humble wand came forth a twined bolt of lightning, and having no room to travel, struck both Veitch and Tristan in a painful shower of sparks which flew everywhere about the room, charring Kadarins eyebrows and nearly setting the lizard on fire.

Veitch was struck first and hardest, Tristan receiving less of the snaking bolts thunderous jolt. Te priest did scream in agonizing pain, but was drowned out by the suddenly blackened and charred imposter.

Tristan sank to one knee severely dazed, burns already bubbling on his exposed skin.

Veitch just screamed and screamed, a sound unlike any human throat was capable of duplicating, yet somehow still had the wherewithal to keep coming at Kadarin.

But the swipe of the imposter's curved dagger was incidental as Veitch sidestepped the mage and made directly toward the window, leaping with some grace, despite the fact that his horrid, bubbling flesh was nearly black now from the lightning bolt, and his unfamiliar screams of pain persisted.

Dujek finally groped for his cane. The light show and shower of sparks had befuddled Dujek momentarily, but he was now lucid again.

“Dran Ou Melka’an“ came the bellowing roar, as Vorodon entered, nearly knocking the door of its hinges.

The site that greeted him was a strange one.

One Tristan was kneeling on a knee, obviously shaken, smoke coming off his body in wisps. Dujek was propped up against a corner wall, clutcing his cane and struggling to rise. Kadarin was standing and staring at his wand in astonishment, and what could only be described as a burnt Second Tristan, was shrieking in an inhuman voice, while slashing with his blade blindly and leaping past the stunned Kadarin, into a rectangular window of shimmering energy, which had suddenly materialized on the wall next to the rickety, mundane, and only actual window, in the room!

As Vorodon took in the scene, Aerex, dagger clenched in his fist, ducked under the half-ogres arm and entered the room. Talia arrived a second later.

In a few scant moments, the charred Tristan would propel himself through some magical portal!

--Below and outside, Glordren looked up to the third floor window. For a second he stared in amazement, as he witnessed the room light up like a beacon amidst a darkened sea, an awful great crackle sounding, and finally, screams of unimaginable pain.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#78

The lights and sounds, and then the stench of burning flesh. And still the notTristan kept coming at Kadarin, screaming some inhuman scream up pain. Grabbing his cane he went at whatever it was, swinging his cane with both of his hands, downward toward the sides thing's knees.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#79

Talia looked at the others for a split second, then lunged for the smoking, screaming imposter. She couldn't heal the others, and if they didn't catch the attacker, he would be back. A fan was already out. Crossing the room wasn't a great distance, but he was so much closer to the window... Throwing would be madness. She was confident that she'd be able to land on her feet should she need to go through the window as well.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#80

Aerex had only a split second to think as the doppelganger dove for the otherworldly window and escape. In the corner of his eye, Aerex caught Talia lunging for him, her steel fan reflecting the strange light eminating from the portal. The gypsy warrior's skill would probably be enough to stop and corner the unTristan, but the constable wasn't going to take any chances. Reversing his grip on the dagger, he dove in a tackle directly at the double.

(ooc: attempting to grapple the doppelganger)