Convergence (Chap IV) — Legacy Forums

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#121

As Talia slid, her body low and as close to out of the arc of fire as possible, one final time, that massive bow would sing out its song of dorsal impalement, deliberately aimed high and up, while the sheer recoil of iron flying forwards would drive the pilgrim bearing it even further into the ground. Lord! Though I am nothing, I beg of thee! Preserve those who serve you in the face of darkness!

Steeling his nerves, preparing to dodge and flee, Adan let loose of the improvised bow, reaching through the mud for the blade sheathed at his side, even as he raised his mudspattered face, and began to lift his voice, once more in that dreadful hymn of retribution. Though showing his voice would likely cost him his life, these things deserved to know the power behind their destruction.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#122

Dazed, Kasin stared down the shaft of the spear at the rather agitated ogre.
The world began to fade away to blackness, consciousness slowly slipping away. The pain, what there was of it noticeable through the shock, seemed cold and distant.
Didn’t see my day ending up like this…

In a moment of pure desperation, or perhaps the primal instinct to survive, he held his broadsword high above his head. I’m not ending my days like this…

He began to sing a song from his childhood, softly. One of honor, glory and sacrifice…
“Oh I have the heart of a warrior,
and although I am low borne,
I hope one day I’ll be sworn,
to be a Knight so I can fight to serve my Lord…”

With all the strength remaining in his broken body, he flung his sword as straight as he could at the howling head of the ogre on the other end of the spear protruding most offensively from his midsection.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#123

One down, a few more to go. Everything must start somewhere. Kyrian was in medias res, and becoming fired up. With one hefty strike, he cleaved off the Dog's arm, or rather, front paw at the shoulder, and picked up the battered appendage. Sword held in his right, the bloody limb in the other, he headed towards the raider leader... Talia slid by, aiming for the brute's legs, fan spread out to rend Borgadoc's tendons.

The knight used the welcome distraction, and held the severed limb into the path of Borgadoc's whirling chain, letting the weapon wrap itself around the Pooch's meaty arm, and thrusting forward with his blade.

Soaked in blood, the decorative metal blossoms at the junction of the hilt and blade sprung into full bloom even as the crimson tip headed towards the coward's back.

"And the crowd cheers..." Kyrian laughed, licking his own blood off his lips.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#124

Slipping and sliding across the muddy slope, Vorodon watched helplessly as the traveler rushed the brigands and was spitted for his trouble. Almost losing his balance, the hill-warrior swore passionately, "Dynah corse badmans!" (a phrase he'd heard Aerax utter, but only when Talia wasn't around). He moved to help the impaled stranger, yanking his battle axe from its ring on his belt and directing the lethal instrument toward the brigand's exposed armpit.

He'd save the remaining darts for the ones he couldn't reach.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#125

Battle Scene #1 (Talia, Dumjakk, Borgradoc, Adan, Tristan, and Kyrian) (others next)

Borgraodc could not believe his misshapen eyes. This crazy human woman was rushing directly at him. Fine then! Let her come, the massive verbeeg thought, I will separate her head from her shoulders.

Still swinging his chain in a whizzing arc of certain death, Borgradoc braced himself for Talia’s mad rush.

This time, the mud proved a boon. As soon as Talia slid, she continued at breakneck speed, but now low to the ground, dirt and water filling her eyes and mouth, though she did not care. She could still see the beast’s meaty shins, and aimed for them. As she drew close, she could hear the “whiz” of iron chain, only feet above her, but also noticed that Borgradoc had taken a wide stance. If her gambit worked, she could slide right between the verbeeg’s legs...

Tristan charged and attacked, oblivious to all around him except his still standing adversary. This time the young priest missed with his mace, the momentum carrying him in a forward lunge. That same momentum, however, had caused Dumjakk to miss Tristan in turn with the crossbow he was now using as a melee weapon, and now both man and verbeeg turned to face one another again. Desperation and rage in the verbeeg’s eyes, and steely determination (suicidal?) on Tristan’s face.

Talia’s fan sliced Borgradoc’s shin effortlessly, and the bladedancer kept right on sliding, looking up momentarily and ruing the fact that she had not aimed for the giant’s groin. Seconds later, she was fifteen feet away, completely covered in grime, and feeling around for her second fan. No luck there. It was somewhere nearby, but at this moment in time, it was not wise to spend time digging. Especially not since Borgradoc now charged the woman, bubbling with an uncontrollable rage.

“Whhhoooooooooooooom” Another verbeeg bolt fired from somewhere, (no one was sure from where it came, in the heat of battle), but missed everything and went whizzing by, certain death, for anyone in its way. Unfortunately no one was, and no would ever know where that mighty bolt would land. Adan grunted from the recoil.

Finally, Dumjakk spotted the mud-buried warrior. And now Adan began to rise from the mud, a spectre, a muddy wraith, blade clutched tightly, a drone, nay a song, emanating from his crusted lips. Dumjakk’s eyes opened wide (there was recognition), but Dumjakk knew there was no running now. Only battle. He moved toward Adan. But between him and the man with the giant crossbow, there stood Tristan.

Shouting horrible insults at Borgradoc and Dumjakk came Kyrian suddenly, moving gracefully toward his chosen new target. He had covered a great distance in a short amount of time, and though bloody and muddy from his exertion with Dog, the elven knight wanted glory. And the glory was here...here, with the chain swinging Borgradoc.

Tristan missed Dumjakk. Dumjakk missed Tristan. Talia’s slide and stab was successful on Borgy. 6 dam. (Yes, I’m keeping track). Adan missed (sorry :(). Kyrian had some ground to cover, but is here now. Initiative rolled. Dexy peoples won (Kyrian, Talia). Non-Dexy peoples lost (Tristan, Adan)

Swinging his broken crossbow once more, Dumjakk scored a hit on Tristan, and this time, the young Triguian knew great pain. Falling backwards into the mud, he was much slower getting up this time. But still rose.

Borgradoc had eyes only for Talia, who was now nearly beside the grinning Kyrian. It was the two of them and Borgradoc now, and the rest of the world did not exist.

"And the crowd cheers..." Kyrian laughed, licking his own blood off his lips.

Dumjakk did 4 to Tristan (danger, danger! Hp!). Talia and Kyrian get actions/attacks on Borgy before he pummels someone with chain (badly pummels :P)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#126

Talia had an instant to survey the situation. She knew that look on Borgradoc's face. She'd made him mad, and she didn't think he'd let her flash past him again. But she didn't like that whirling chain. She didn't want to be in the sweep of that thing. If she couldn't go past, then the battle had reached the point when being too close to him was the next best thing. Of course, she'd much rather be behind him than in front of him. Ancestors, I hope you're watching. I'm about to do something rather silly, and I'm going to need all the help I can get.

She fell back a few steps, then charged forward again. This time, however, she wasn't angled at Borgradoc, but at Kyrian who had come up next to her. Fortunately, his platemail provided excellent purchase. "Pardon the impertinence," she snapped as she grabbed his shoulders to boost herself up, then, in almost the same motion, one foot used his back as the leverage necessary to turn the vault into a flip. She wasn't worried about him; she wasn't big enough to knock him too far off balance, and she needed the height. No, the tricky part would be the timing. With the verbeeg charging forward and her twisting through the air, she thought she'd overshoot him just enough to land behind him. But this could easily go very wrong; if he realized what she was up to, it wouldn't take much to land a hit. And if she had misjudged the timing, she'd land either right in front of him in time to get trampled, or on top of him, which had a whole other host of potential problems. It was too late to worry about it. She snapped her fan closed, hoping to use it to keep the chain from cutting her in half if it was swinging through the area she meant to come down in.

((OOC: I'm aware that that's probably a stupid move, but she's not gonna last long in direct combat with this thing. *commences praying*))

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#127

Battle Scene #2 (Vorodon, Aerex, and Kasin Mirinar and Mrok and Yoord too)

The man called Kasin Mirinar looked through clouded eyes, as an armored knight ran by, and some bellowing ogre came from behind. Great, Mirinar thought despite his own current condition....the man with the armor and weapons is running off.

He was off the ground, that he knew, airborne but not far from the hulking, stinking flesh of his “captor”. Mirinar was indeed speared like a river trout, and felt his belly surging its contents, as he closed his eyes, to keep from passing out entirely.

Mrok now lifted Mirinar and heaved him after spinning in place, thirty feet if a yard. Mirinar landed quietly, sinking into several feet of mud. He was still alive he thought, but then reconsidered, unsure.

Kyrian running for Borgradoc left Aerex momentarily facing two verbeeg alone. Glory hound, Aerex thought quickly, still peeved from Kyrian’s earlier jest. He will get us killed one day, that one.

Unfortunately Aerex did not have any more time to think. Unable to help the impaled (and now flying) stranger, who had dashed down the hill so boldly and heroically only moments earlier, Aerex focused on Yoord.

Slash. Thrust. Aerex came low at Yoord, coming up to the giant’s midsection. He felt flesh with his rapier. His slash had missed, but he had made a long, deep hole in the verbeeg’s thigh with his rapier. Yoord made a sound. Pain? Aerex could not be sure. Just then Yoord cut across the ranger’s shoulder with his spear’s backswing, and now Aerex bled, flesh torn from the meaty nexus of arm and socket. As if on cue, a small but fervent stream of blood likewise poured from the hole in Yoord’s leg, courtesy of Aerex’ rapier.

Aerex sprang back a few feet. How long can I last exchanging blows with this thing, he thought once more, and then...where in the Dynast’s name is everyone?

A whizzing in Aerex' ear. At first the ranger assumed it was another mystery crossbow bolt, but no. Out of the corner of his eye, Aerex could see it was no bolt that landed squarely in Mrok’s chest, just as the second behemoth had flung Kasin Mirinar gods knew where. It was an axe. That could only mean Voro!

Indeed, Vorodon came running now full steam, axe in hand, and with his prodigious and often over-looked strength, buried the weapon, missing Mrok’s armpit, but coming close enough with a direct hit just between the ribcage of the suddenly reeling creature. Mrok gave a now familiar verbeeg roar of pain, and actually slumped, then looked upon the half-ogre with could only be described as fear.

“Why I throw spear away?” he would have thought if not momentarily frozen with pain, but instead Mrok was busy pulling free his own secondary weapon, a lochaber axe, one he had stolen from a knight once long ago. Mrok braced for Vorodon’s next attack, and swung the lochaber axe, as blood erupted from the verbeeg's chest. Somewhere in his many folds of flesh, there lay buried a painful dart as well.

Yoord meanwhile, stared down the diminutive ranger with a maniacal glee in his one good eye, then came with his spear once more.

okay. Vorodon hit Mrok with axe hard-core (19) for 13 dam. Mrok however managed to toss Mirinar seconds earlier. Mirinar landed in mud thirty feet away, and is sinking fast. He is at –4 HP. Needs healing quickly. Aerex meanwhile hit Yoord with rapier. 5 dam. Yoord nicked Aerex with spear. 6 dam (some nick!). Initiative won by you two, Aerex and Vorodon.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#128

A cry escaped Aerex's mouth as the giant's spear tore his flesh. This isn't going to work, he thought ruefully. Voro's work had at least distracted one of the Verbeeg, but this one seemed intent on ripping the ranger to shreds. A small, wounded man against a large, wounded Verbeeg wasn't going to win head on. It was time for some resourceful thinking. Aerex steeled himself, stepping back into a defensive combat stance. He widened the gap between his weapons, keeping his eye on the Verbeeg's now-bloody spear. Damn, I hope this works...

(OOC: If Yoorg swings his spear again, Aerex will attempt to "grapple" it by locking his weapons around the haft and attaching himself to the spear. Ideally, he'll end up sliding down the spear and slicing away at the giant's head, right up in his grill piece. Ideally.)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#129

As he rose unsteadily, his hand still clutched upon the muddy blade at his side, Adan glared at the Verbeeg, straightening slowly before he let his hand draw the weapon fully. I do not have the strength to fight. But the die is cast. Trigu alone shall read it. And I shall die defending a brother of the faith at the worst. And then, his language shifted, the hymn coming to its completion in the common tongue, booming forth.

"For He is the arbiter of death and life,
For all Power an Mercy are His,
now and forever!"

Shield held high above, blade low and out like a dagger, the disgraced warrior charged, fully intending to charge through the Verbeeg's knee with the blade, to cleave it away... and to keep on going, to prepare himself for another charge as necessary.

"For the Honor of the Brightblade, and the Glory of Trigu!"

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#130

Life is fleeting. Yet e'en though we toe the line, today we shant abandon these mortal bodies. Much is left to be done in this world...

He spit to the side, his mouth bloody from the heavy hits he had taken. This monster was one heck of a fighter. No matter! Trigu guide my weapon... He swung at the verbeeg, praying intently.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#131

As long as Borgy had only eyes for Talia, Kyrian was happy - especially as he was not looking where his chain was going. Dog's arm would look nice wrapped in it. Likewise would the Rose be beauty incarnate as soon as it managed to cut into Borgadoc's knee. No sense in trying to pierce layers of armor, muscle and fat, when all that walked on two had the kneecap so wonderfully exposed.

That is where his blade would land. Noone of this band was going to doubt him when he has felled the verbeeg leader, certainly not - the head would earn the respect of the rowdy folk at Cottar's Bale likewise, perhaps a bounty elsewhere.

Most importantly, he would have proven his worth once more - to himself, and this small corner of the world.

"One piece at a time, Kyrian" he whispered, as he imagined red lines across Borgadoc's body - first, one across the knee; then as soon as he lost balance, one across the right shoulder, right into the left hand...

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#132

Vorodon pressed in on his foe, blocking the giant-kin's swing with his axe's haft. The two massive foes slammed blows at each other, a staccato rhythm of iron-braced axes swinging, blocking, crashing against each other, then twisting free to begin their deadly song anew. Not since the battle in the monastery had Vorodon faced a foe of such might.

The huge brigand was weakening, but not fast enough! Vorodon drew the brigand's guard lower with a swing toward his knee, then stepped clear and leveled a mighty blow at the winded brigand's neck!

(OOC: Called shot for the head/neck)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#133

Adan, Tristan, and Dumjakk.

Something snapped inside Dumjakk just then. How could he kill a man who would not die? They had left this same mud-covered, bloody man dead, bolts buried in his throat, and yet here he was again, and coming. The other had no fear as well, Dumjakk thought panicked. Tristan just kept coming too, and this was more than disconcerting for the verbeeg lackey, who was in quite a bit of pain himself.

None of Dumjakk’s thoughts mattered much however at the moment, for the aforementioned Adan came running and lunged with his blade, striking Dumjakk in his fleshy knee, tearing a tendon, and causing Dumjakk to howl once more. As he struck Adan ran past the verbeeg, who spun around on one good leg, to strike back at his attacker. It was not to be. Tristan’s smite smashed the back of Dumjakk’s skull (thanks to the knee shot by Adan, Dumjakk stumbled, his head lowered and for a moment, directly in Tristan’s sights) with considerable force, such force, that Dumjakk’s skull caved, sending bone shrapnel into the giant’s brain, and killing him outright.

Without any drama or last words or last strike, Dumjakk teetered, then fell into the hungering mud.

Adan hit for 7 dam. Tristan hit for 8. Dumjakk did not have all that many (relatively speaking) for a verbeeg. Between 6 from Tristan before, and 7 from Limper’s bolt, Dumjakk is dead. Hurrah. Glory be to Trigu!

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#134

Aerex and Yoord. Vorodon and Mrok

Aerex could see the bloodbath before him, even as he himself was preoccupied with the fearsome Yoord.

Vorodon and Mrok were in a dance of death. There was no other way it could end. The war-axe and the lochaber axe clanged with great force, both behemoths striking one another with such fury and power, that any one hit, Aerex thought, would fell a human man instantly.

Focusing on his own situation, Aerex once more steeled himself and chose his tactic. Yoord came as expected, a spear thrust toward the diminutive man. Perhaps in this instance, Aerex’ height proved useful, as the verbeeg had trouble picking his target. The little man danced and danced, Yoord thought, rage washing over his eyes. Stay still little man, stay still! Yoord heard himself thinking, then...”Aha!”

Aerex had frozen in place, his weapons and stance wide apart. Yoord managed a grin as he came full force, but as he swung Aerex’ caught the wicked spear head between his rapier and dagger. A great clang sounded, one even Vorodon may have been proud of, but the ranger could not get the proper momentum to “ride” the spear down toward the verbeeg’s jiggling flesh, as he had hoped. Instead, Aerex felt both his arms go numb at the contact momentarily, and he had no choice but to jump back anew.

Cheap spear! Aerex suddenly realized, as Yoord looked at his own the weapon’s tip, and found that the iron-blade had ripped clean off the oaken shaft, from Aerex’ almost successful grapple. The giant momentarily stared at his spear, which was now a long staff, then flung it, and rushed Aerex with a maniacal shout.

“Die little man, DIE!”

Yoord missed Aerex. Aerex cracked the spear-tip off Yoord’s weapon. Initiative. Aerex wins. Yoord is COMING with fists of fury.

Vorodon finally sunk his blade once more into Mrok. The blade ripped flesh aplenty from the verbeeg's shoulder, chest, and neck. Blood spurted everywhere, but even as Mrok screamed an awful scream, his own lochaber axe had caught the half-ogre's mid-section, and now Vorodon's flesh burst with bright, red blood as well, dousing his enemy and the endless mud surrounding the mortal combatants. Vorodon however, to his credit, did not scream.

The two warriors fought on, though it was obvious that Mrok was much worse off than the axe-bashing half-ogre, and only moments later, Vorodon struck once more, cleaving Mrok's head clean off his misshappen shoulders, ending the verbeeg's life on contact. The clash of titans was at an end.

Vorodon hit Mrok for 15 dam. Mrok hit back for 12. Initiative. Vorodon won. Vorodon smash. Vorodon win. (12 dam)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#135

A weird grin crept over Aerex's face. D*mn, I didn't think that would work. Now he had succeeded in not only disarming the giant, but also launching it into a blood lust that would cause enough distraction to the Verbeeg to hopefully overcome him. Aerex tightened his grip on the rapier, steeling himself. "Alright, it's all about timing," he murmured to himself. His stance lowered. Steady... steady... The wounded, screaming Verbeeg finally came upon the ranger, spittle flying from its ugly mouth. Now. Matare leapt forward, both weapons thrusting upward at the beastly humanoid, praying the huge fists would miss him.

(OOC: Attempting to charge back at Yoord and thrust with both dagger & rapier.)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#136

Talia, Kyrian, and Borgradoc (this is starting to remind me of a cross between the hobbit (Merry?), the chick (Arowen?), and the "NO-MAN-CAN-SLAY-ME" bad-ass from Lord of the Rings battle, and the ol' Wolverine gets thrown by Colossus routine :P)

Meanwhile Talia and Kyrian faced the most dangerous adversary of all. The once “glib” but now ferocious Brown Borgradoc.

Borgradoc ignored Dumjakk’s demise entirely as he advanced on the Bladedancer and the knight.

Once more Talia surprised the raging beast. Running like a gazelle, and catapulting herself off the armored shoulder of Kyrian (which took even the elven knight by surprise), the bladedancer was now airborne, twirling through the air like one of her erstwhile caravan’s acrobat-gypsies. As she flew she paid her ancestors their respects. Either she would die, she thought, or she would not. She was in the ‘unpredictable arms of fate’ now, as Loiha would always say.

Kyrian did not wait for either Talia to land, nor for Borgradoc to reach him first. Charging, then gracefully side-winding, then finally lashing out, Kyrian’s blade arced parallel to Borgradoc’s chain, as the verbeeg slowed his charge, and tried to smash one or the other assailant with his whirling chain of death. Meat and tendon tore, as the Carmine Rose sliced across the giant’s bulging knee-cap. Borgradoc buckled momentarily, then jerked his chain savagely, thrusting it down and smashing Kyrian, (though not with full momentum), across the elven knight’s flank, sending the elf stumbling back, his teeth clenched in pain, ribs burning, kidney painfully bruised. There was no denying it. Borgradoc’s iron chain was death incarnate, and it had merely “grazed” the knight. Unarmored, Kyrian thought, many of my bones would be broken.

Kyrian was “tingling” with dull yet exquisite pain now, still grinning though, much to Borgradoc’s consternation as the elf bravely came forward once more, swinging his own deadly weapon at Borgradoc’s head.

Talia had missed the entire exchange, having somehow miraculously somersaulted over the verbeeg, and more importantly, over the path of the swinging chain. The gypsy warrior landed with a soft thud in the mud, a mere four feet behind the suddenly stalled and pre-occupied Borgradoc.

Kyrian hit Borgy. 8 dam. Talia’s Dex check made it! (despite significant negative modifiers), somersaulting the mighty Borgy successfully. Borgy swiped Kyrian with chain, 10 dam. Initiative. Talia and Kyrian win. It’s go time.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#137

((OOC: Holy shit, I survived my own stupidity! Woot! Also, I like Kyrian, but better the knight in full plate take that chain than the *very* lightly armored warrior. No hard feelings.))

Talia landed, halfway surprised to still be alive. But she didn't allow herself the luxury of wondering at her good fortune. She was right where she wanted to be, behind the verbeeg. And now he was busy. Her fan was still closed, and she knew just what to do with it. She knew what sort of damage that thing could do if it opened while it was inside a wound.

She lunged forward, bracing the fan with both hands. She meant to ram it into the thing's exposed and more or less vulnerable kidneys, then snap it open. It had worked on those before Borgradoc, and she fully expected it to work now.

((OOC: Death to the verbeeg! Kill!))

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#138

"Trigu, I thank you."

The words rose from the wounded throat as he looked down at the fallen man-monster, a frown deeply etched upon his face. There would be time for the dead later. A glance to the priest who had caved in the beast's skull, a brief nod. So be it.

"Heal thyself, brother, if ye can and aid in the battle with their leader. I will aid the others. There will be no death today but theirs, yet the others are sorely pressed, it seems." The voice of Adan was rough and commanding as he spoke this, and he nodded with his own order, before rising to dash in the direction of Kasin Mirinar, intent upon staunching the flow of blood, at the least.

And as he ran, all unbidden, a song came to his lips, and as breath passed his lungs, he gave it voice.

"Lord, unto you, we give our fates,
yea, unto you, we give our lives.
And unto you, we give our plea.
Pour thy holy light upon them,
and against the darkness,
grant us thy sacred victory.
Like chaff, scatter thine enemy,
and restore our bodies and souls,
so we might best serve thy glory!"

(OOC: Runrunrun-first aid. I expect this will take a round of travel and a round of heal.)

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#139

His lungs working like a bellows, Vorodon wrenched a dart from his fallen foe's gut. Turning, the hill warrior slogged across the muddy field, flinging the dart as he closed the distance.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#140

Aerex and Vorodon and Yoord and Kasin Mirinar and Adan

Yoord charged Aerex and Aerex charged Yoord. Fists the size of over-ripe grapefruits against rapier and dirk.

Meanwhile Adan, bloody, muddy, and aching from head to toe, made his way toward the strange man drowning in mud. Pulling the unconscious figure free of the muck, Adan administered aid, as best he could, all the while intoning his Triguian song.

Vorodon had let loose in the nick of time, his latest deadly missile penetrating Yoord’s cheek, boring through the verbeeg’s jaw, shattering teeth, and partially emerging again from the giant-kin’s other cheek.

Yoord half-bellowed, half-squealed, frothing blood, as he now stumbled toward charging Aerex. Slipping on the mud, the

verbeeg bore down and crashed against the oncoming Matare, sending both sliding across the terrain, until finally coming to a stop, though Aerex could not be seen now, smothered beneath the suddenly still bulbous body of Yoord.

By the time Vorodon reached the Insector, Aerex was already crawling forth, wriggling as he slid from beneath Yoord’s corpse, bruised but smiling. Both dirk and rapier had apparently punctured Yoord’s gut in the collision, and the following slide and pressure provided by Yoord’s mass, ensured both weapons penetrated to their respective hilts.

With Vorodon’s help flipping the body, Aerex withdrew his weapons from the crimson flesh of the verbeeg.

Mirinar stabilized by Adan. Will be at "0" then "1" soon. Vorodon did 8 dam with dart. Yoord stumbled. Aerex hit with both weapons for a combined 10 dam. Yoord Dead. Aerex took 3 dam during collision.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#141

(OOC: Since we figured it would take two rounds.)

Strip away the gauntlets. Water. Clear the mud. A splash for the wound, a splash for his hands. Brandy? No, not in his pouch. That was back at the horses. d**n! But, Trigu smiled upon the stranger, Adan saw. Blood was lost, and terribly so, and the fat and muscle of his belly was punched clean through, but the spear had caught there. What parts of the strangers guts the paladin could see were unpunctured. Blood-smeared, mud-smeared, but pink and alive, rather than black and oozing. The stranger would likely need proper surgery, eventually, they all would, but now was not the place and time.

Wincing visibly beneath his viking-style helm, Adan withdrew what few mud-covered strips of cloth he had with him, giving it a quick splash to remove as much of the mud as possible, before binding the stranger's wounds as best he could in this morass, stripping away what armor was needed to do so. A brief sigh, as he shook his head, raising from the task at hand, his dubiously clean hands making the sign of Trigu over the fallen stranger's body, as he said softly, "My Lord Trigu, bless this mess."

That's one less life taken by Borgadoc. Back to the chaos of battle. A moment. Yes.

And as the fallen warrior began to stir, Adan knelt, his fingers once more describing the sign of Trigu upon the air. "Can you stand, stranger?" Assent forthcoming, the grim-faced soldier nodded, a hint of divine inspiration coming to him. "Then rise." Standing to his own, full height, he drew in his breath, before bellowing, more than loudly enough to be heard. "Look upon the power that opposes you, giant! Warrior! I command thee, Arise and protect the children of Light. ARISE!" And from behind him, at the edge of the puddle of mud and gore, there was motion. The stirring of Kasin Mirinar.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#142

Kyrian, Talia, and Borgy

Talia’s fan drove easily into Borgradoc’s exposed back, lacerating flesh and then “blossoming” inside, and tearing yet more flesh. Red Hatchet’s demise, danced before the Bladedancer’s eyes in a brief flashback..

Borgradoc raged and spun around on his one useful leg, lashing out with his snake-like chain, missing Talia by mere inches this time, as she sprung back from the creature’s raw and ravaged back, which now looked as if steel-tooth maggots had burrowed outward from his kidneys.

Borgradoc was still alive however.

Talia hit with “pear-blossoming” fan. 12 dam. Borgy missed Talia. Kyrian attacks then initiative. Or not, depending...Borgy is hurt.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#143

Borgradoc was in mortal combat and could not notice the bloodied holy man's "raising of the dead". Limper however, who had run off, and been ignored up to now, was making his way back toward the battle, somewhat calmed now, despite three feet of bolt still lodged up his arse, and was in fact at that very moment "sneaking up" (as best as a Verbeeg could sneak up) toward the area where Adan and Mirinar were positioned.

Upon hearing the fearsome words of Adan however, and staring at disbelief at the rising dead man, Limper's senses once more returned to him, and he turned..and ran...and kept running.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#144

Kyrian rolls 17 and does 10 damage, enough for Borgy.

Gritting his teeth as he felt the chain bend his breastplate, the knight grasped his adversary's weapon and brought him off balance, Borgadoc's wounded knee making him sway like a tree in the storm. The brief moment of weakness was sufficient for Kyrian to lurch forwards, slicing through the raider's other knee with a sickening crack of bone. A kick into the brute's hairy chest send him sprawling in the mud, flailing around with his meaty hands even as his rended arteries fed the soil with blood.

One meaty paw reached towards the exhausted mail-clad warrior, only to be met with sharp steel, slicing the forearm down its length.

"Consider your days of felony over, fool! I have seen pigs die with more dignity; my lunch puts on a more honorable fight!"

Not wishing to prolong his squealing further, he rammed the length of his weapon through Borgadoc's chest, letting it catch the last rays of the sun. The rose petals were in full bloom; the blade drank deep, rivulets of crimson blood trailing up the chill steel. The battered hel me took off, letting his mane flow freely in the wind, and be set ablaze by the carmine of the half-shrouded sunset.

"To you, Shar-Sanya I send this villain's soul, to sate your black cats' hunger...." he whispered, and turned around laughing.

"Looks like they are done for; good has prevailed, as expected! Now, strangers, hello there! Introduce yourself, and let us revel in victory! Even you, who has returned from the dead - such a small peculiarity shall not dull our welcome!"

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#145

The threat vanquished, so far as his eyes could tell, Adan too, removed his helm, to reveal fully his plain, unspecial face, shaven clean, and the cropped blonde hair above, but this, he did it would seem, more in order to better examine the rising man he had aided. "Be at ease, stranger. The threat is ended, and your injuries are still severe. They will be rightly treated as soon as it is possible."

A glance to the elf, as if to acknowledge them, but not yet respond came from Adan's eyes, the deep and compelling gaze offering the explanation of a higher duty, rather than insolence.

And then, Adan turned his bare face to the sky, even as he sank to a single, his lips moving, as he spoke low and determinedly in the ancient tongue of Trigu's first worshippers. "Lord Trigu, we commend those fallen here today into Thine care, now and forever. May their eternal destination please Thee, as it shall for all those whom are mortal. Keep them and purify them with Thy Mercy, oh Lord, so that they may know Thy Glory, and that Thy design may best be served. Amen."

And slowly, he rose once more, to rejoin the others.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#146

Hearing the prayer now that the clamor of battle has faded, Kyrian twitched his ears.
Not them...

"Do not lover your guard, comrades, for the Triguans are upon us!" He strode towards the priest and knight, eyeing them sternly. "More than once have I seen their likes assault people of indigenous faith, convicted of their monopoly on truth and right. They speak of light, but all they do is to douse any light but their own. The elves of Athelwood might tell you a tale of the light Triguans bring. Or rather, fire..."

"Before you inquire, sinners we are, yet in no need of conversion, lecture, nor smiting. Keep your judgment at bay, and no ill will befall you from us. Still, though you have aided us, I suggest that you take your part of the spoils, and move onwards. I, for myself, do not need the wrong of my ways righted, and likewise don't my fellows."

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#147

And as the elven knight spoke, the man who had intoned the prayers lowered his eyes to the ground, allowing those words to lash about him like a whip, feeling their hatred beat up against his soul. The sigh at the end of them was brief, as he once more raised his eyes, full of a terrible sorrow and sadness.

"I have no lecture nor smiting to bring to you, Mein Herr, and no path to tend to but mine own. In any case, it is through you, this day, that our Lord has delivered us from evil. For this, we have only thanks and praise for you. Indeed, your claim to glory this day is far greater than ours." A pause, a lowered gaze once more.

"Now, I am Adan, and my companion and I are upon a pilgrimage to the Temple at Jantir. I am also a chireurgeon of the faintest skill, and if you will permit me, I would like to accompany you to the nearest town upon the road, where I will treat your injuries as best my small ability will allow me."

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#148

Tristan ignored the mud that covered his body, placing his mace in it's place on his belt for what he hoped would be the last time. Trigu in heaven, help me to get rid of this thing... He surveyed the damage wrought on the party, trying to decide who needed his assistance the most. He wasn't sure who from the ambushed party needed help the most, but he knew Adan would soon need divine help. He'd taken some nasty hits even before the strain of this battle wore him down. He approached Talia carefully, attempting to wipe a little bit of the muck off his face so that he'd be recognizable.

"Are you alright? I need to find who needs my help the most here. Mind giving me a hand?"

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#149

Talia was paying more attention to recovering her fans and trying to wipe the worst of the mud and blood off than she was the speeches, prayers, and glory-mongering of her companions. The fan lodged somewhere near Bogradoc's spine was easy, if it required a hefty pull. She had to hunt about for the other one; finally she spotted it half buried in the mud twenty feet away. She examined it, making a small noise of discontent. She'd have to find a smith to sharpen them; they'd seen a lot of wear in the last few months. After getting as much grime off as she could, she tucked them back into her belt.

She greeted Tristan as she did. "I'm fine, just a minor fleshwound." She looked around. "Well, there's that young idiot over there who seems more dead than alive." She pointed at the stranger who'd gotten impaled. "You might have a look at Aerex, though I don't know how bad he's hurt. And that one," she pointed at Kyrian, "took a nasty hit from that godsdamned chain, but I don't know as he'd let you help him."

Speaking of... She walked over to Kyrian, standing near enough he could her her as she spoke in a low voice. "Can you kindly keep your own judgement at bay, please? I don't know what experiences you've had with Triguans, but the ones we've encountered have never been anything less than civil to the rest of us. I called some of them my friends before I'd even heard of you." She scowled at him. "Do not do anything to make them reconsider their aid. If an occasionally violent heathen like myself can deal with them, most others can too. Even knights."

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#150

Aerex grunted as he pulled his blades from Yoorg's corpse, cleaning him as best he could in the muddy conditions. He checked himself over: a few gashes from the spear, deeper than he would have liked, but not life threatening. "Don't worry about me," he said, waving away any help. The ranger flashed a grin at Vorodon. "Well, this should make us popular in Cottar's Bale, huh?" He glanced over at the others: Talia was scolding Kyrian, who was in turn scolding the Triguans. Somehow, the whole debate didn't bother Aerex or catch his attention. He was mostly just happy to have survived the conflict with the Verbeeg. He might not have been so lucky, if not for that stranger...

Aerex's brow furrowed, caked mud cracking on it. He walked over to where the stranger lay as Adan completed his prayer. "He alright?" Aerex asked the Triguan. The ranger had an itch to meet the man who took a spear that likely belonged in Aerex's own gut.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#151

"If you claim to know them, and believe them less zealous than the rest of their ilk, well then - they may join our path."
Back to the Triguans he turned, measuring them with his glare.
"To you - if you ever plan on cleansing my 'taint', so obvious in my features, attempt it now and let it be done. For if I ever see you with a lynch mob at your back heading towards me, I will call you a coward a thousand times."
Truth be said, the latter was said with less conviction than he wished for - the surprise at the Triguan's mellow response was... unexpected; which happens to be the defining characteristic of most surprises, though.

Shaking his head, he turned away.

"Adminster your help to those in more need of it - I can walk, and the Reaper shows no interest in me so far."

He patted Herald and hummed a serene song into his ear, to relieve him from the fright of battle. "My friend will bear anything too heavy for the rest of you to carry. Let us collect all of use and value, and be done with this place."

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#152

Kyrian's rage being spent for the moment, Adan simply allowed it to wash over him, turning his cheek slightly. Such hatred... I wonder what man tried to force the gates of his heart, or if it is some ancient ska?

Addressed now by the inspector, the blonde fighter sighed, and shook his head. "He lives, can talk, and likely walk. But, his body is disrupted." With that, he looked over towards Tristan, a beckoning gesture. "Brother, this one, if it pleases our Lord, and we can likely be on our way. Will you lead us on that path, Sir Knight?"

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#153

I Left My Heart in Cottar's Bale.

A return to Cottar’s Bale was in order of course, and upon arrival “Vorodon’s Posse” was feted, fed, and celebrated. Though most of the wounded adventurers-upon-return cared for nothing more than warm, dry beds that night, the next day, and the day after, the Snowmelt Festival was back in full swing, and the companions were involved in every way by the appreciative and impressed villagers.

Talia, for the most part was simply gawked at, both her hair and beauty capturing the imaginations of humans and ogres alike. Aerex kept a quiet profile, often spending time with Talia, and exploring the nearby hills when he wanted to be alone and think his thoughts. HE stopped in on Maegla and gave her coin, and tousled Lil’ Bross’ head, when the fast-growing, little bugger rushed to wrestle Aerex down playfully.

Kyrian took full advantage of the freely provided hospitality and attention. The elf dined on roast goose, drank mead, shared stories of his gladiatorial pit-fights, and tales of his homeland with the rapt villagers, and trained with Herald and his blade, with crowds of humans and ogres watching his martial dances. Most of all he was hailed as the “Bearer of the Bastard’s Head”, and Borgradoc’s head was in fact paraded about the village on a long wooden pole for all to see.

On the second night, Vorodon was proclaimed a Great Hero of Cottar’s Bale, an honor given to only twenty seven ogres over the centuries, and no other half-ogres before him.

He served as the judge of the Snowmelt Maiden pageant, and spent some time with the winner, inside the chief’s Hall, thought he would not speak to anyone of what may have transpired. The next morning, Vorodon even found time to visit with Maegla and “Lil’ Bross”, as well as visiting with relatives and breaking bread with them.

The recovered and recovering, Tristan and Adan, mostly kept to themselves, though they could not decline Vorodon’s fervent invites to return to Cottar’s Bale with the group, after the slaying of the Verbeeg. Both men gave out alms to the poorest families of the village. During evening feasts they would exchange ‘pleasantries’ with Kyrian, who was still undecided on his acceptance of the holy rollers.

They visited the local altar to Gor’am the Purifier and heard of other Ogrish demigods and saints, but kept mostly quiet, taking this time to recuperate and quiz the villagers on the best route to Jantir. Tristan for his part, did reacquaint himself with his former companions, as they spoke of Ganse and their respective adventures since the split.

Kasin Mirinar also accepted the invite. The mysterious man said little of himself, but was friendly enough, though he always seemed as if he was in search of something or in a hurry to go somewhere. Occasionally he would check his satchel, examining its contents, but said next to nothing about what may lie within its confines or his plans, other than indicating he was likewise heading for Jantir.

After several days of celebrations and good-byes, the adventurers-upon-return decided to return to the seeming never-ending “road” to Jantir. After visiting the various smiths of Cottar’s Bale and provisioning themselves, the companions gathered on the village edge.

Vorodon announced that the easiest way would be to descend into the Ethddos Gorge and make way across that desolate valley, until its gradual decline toward the south, where they would rise up again, and find an actual paved road, this one leading to the city gates.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#154

The Road to Jantir

Vorodon announced that the easiest way would be to descend into the Ethddos Gorge and make way across that desolate valley, until its gradual decline toward the south, where they would rise up again, and find an actual paved road, this one leading to the city gates.

Unlike the Dynast’s Way, that famous road which stretched for hundred of miles east and north from Jantir, penetrating the Empire’s acquired lands, like a snake on constant vigil all the way to Nimz, the Sea Road, which came into Jantir from the north and west, hugging the coast, then briefly turning east by south-east and ending at Jantir’s gates, was much less traveled, due to the wild, untamed lands which surrounded its contours, and the inclement weather. This was the very road the adventurers-upon-return came across after three more days of uneventful travel.

And upon seeing the wide path, once they emerged on the south side of the Ethddos Gorge, the companions were a bit surprised to find that it was quite a busy thoroughfare, with pilgrims, robed monks, priests, and common traders, all moving along the road, like one great caravan. Though there was some comradery between the traveling groups of people, there were few arguments or standoffs, each making their way and steering clear of others. There were several instances of shared bread and even some trading and commerce going on among the moving throngs. There was in fact little empty space along the road, between the various wagons, carriages, horses and walking men, though the procession seemed peaceful enough, as they all meandered toward Jantir.

Though the companions drew stares to be sure as they neared the road, they were used to these, and as soon as the various travelers ascertained that they posed no immediate or outward threat (despite the fearsome looking ogre), they were ignored and left to their own devices.

It was as if for the first time in a long time, the adventurers-upon-return came upon civilization. There were more people upon the road now in plain sight, than the entire population of depressing Ganse had inside its decrepit walls. And the companions were not as of yet even inside the City proper.

Though its could not be seen as of yet, the Sea made its presence as well, as a familiar to some, unfamiliar to others briny aroma, danced on the breeze.

Twas’ only a full day’s long march from here, until the vivid blues and greens of the Bay of Screaming Eagles would come into view, as well as the onion domes and spires of Jantir, where a Great Convergence was taking place.

As the companions continued along the Sea Road, Dachas came into view far to each side of the thoroughfare, seaside and hilly estates of Jantir’s well-to-do and influential. Not surprisingly, there were mounted guards stationed here in small clusters along the road. Armed and wary of stragglers who may have been tempted to veer off toward one of the palatial demesnes, with mischievous intent, the men kept constant vigil.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#155

The long trip to Jantir was a nice reprieve from the past week of hard travel and near death. The smell of sea air refreshed and revived Kasin, remembering the port city he spent most of his youth in.

The group of adventurers had been civil enough, their company enjoyable.
Vorodon gave him the chance to brush up on his ogrish, which was more than he expected of the rather imposing man. He genuinely liked the brute, especially when he loosened up and spoke freely and comfortably in his native tongue. It turned out that he had quite the wit, a surprise to say the least. He reminds me of Ginamen of the North…

Adan, although a bit “devout” for his tastes, was a pleasant and helpful man. He was, after all, responsible for keeping him at least hovering on Death’s door until proper healing could be done. Better remember to thank him for saving my life…

The knight, though quite a sight mounted and in his armor, seemed a bit…unreachable. Obviously high born, that one…

The one called Tristan seemed well enough not noticing him at the moment, which suited him fine. One less complication to contend with…

Talia, the strange gypsy, seemed innocuous enough. Quiet and a bit reserved, he almost dared to approach her. Remembering the last barmaid he spoke to, and the sting that ended that conversation, he kept his distance. Business first…he reminded himself.

The one that concerned him most was the one called Aerex. Obviously a lawman of some sort by his manner, he also seemed to look toward Kasin a little more often than he found comfortable.
And then there was his pack….the tell-tale rounded bulge he had been so curious about; the whole reason for seeking out the adventurers in the first place.
I have to get a glimpse! I only need the opportunity…

Keeping to himself was always a good bet, but getting past the city gate would prove not so easy. He realized this strategy may not work this time. Hopefully he would be accepted enough to pass with the adventurers.

Just remember….Kasin Mirinar, advisor to Lord Regnant Imshreen of Har Rhun. Reaching into his robes he produced a sealed message. This will do nicely…

He fell into the ranks just behind and to the left of Vorodon.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#156

For most of the journey itself, Adan rode in taciturn silence, talking little, and then, almost solely to the Brother of Trigu who was his companion before. For the most part, indeed, he was content to consider the strange folks that fate had placed him next to on this leg of his journey. In a way, after Cotter's Bale, it almost been pleasant to return to the road, to it's now familiar rhythms. Landeel Keep had always been a quiet place, secreted away in the deep woods, and the boister of the ogre's community had been both surprising and discomfiting. And he knew Great Jantir, city of men, could not be much better.

At least the traffic upon the Sea Road seemed orderly, for the greatest part, and Adan was grateful to his Lord that there was little need for him to keep the peace this day, and only in part for his own peace of mind. And as they came closer to Jantir, he pulled close to Tristan's side, riding up from his habitual place as the last in line, looking over at the other from the back of the destrier upon which he rode. "Brother, when we enter the city, may I accompany you to His temple? It is a selfish thing I ask, I know, to associate with one such as I there, but I will need help to find the aid I so sorely require. I have been several months upon the road, und ich habe Angst..." As he spoke, his voice was low and quiet, and as he slipped into his native tongue at the end, shaken, even to the point of disturbance.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#157

Talia had never been to Jantir. The caravan had always swung around it, missing the great city entirely on the yearly circuit they made. Though whether that was just because Master Konos had preferred the caravan's settled stops or if he'd had a more definite reason for avoiding the city she couldn't say. It looked pleasant enough. She had mixed feelings, though. On the one hand, the best lead she had about her father's whereabouts was the capital; on the other hand, city folk and gypsy folk seldom saw eye-to-eye, and from her experience, city guards generally took a citizen's side rather than a stranger's.

Now that she was here, Talia had to wonder about a few things. Like if she'd recognize her father; she hadn't seen him since she was a very small child and the memory was very fuzzy at best. She also wondered what she'd do when and if she did find him. Her plans had never gotten that far. She'd often thought about meeting him, but she had never honestly thought about how that conversation would unfold, or what either of their reactions would be.

It could wait; there were other things to take care of at the moment. Like finding a weapons-smith. The smith in Cotter's Bale had wanted to be helpful, but he simply wasn't up to the task of sharpening exotic weapons like her fans. She'd elected to wait until reaching Jantir; surely *someone* could do it. She turned to Aerex. "Can you help me find where the weapons-smiths are? I don't know this town, and I don't want to get lost." Or get in to more trouble than necessary, but that didn't need to be said.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#158

"Certainly Brother. All who come in peace are welcome in Our Trigu's temple. You should know this, even after falling on the way. You and all the others are more than welcome. But what aid do you require? Surely you know by now that I'd give you whatever help you need." He looked around, enjoying the peaceful landscape and the calm, if large, crowd of people. He had only seen a crowd like this once or twice before, as a little boy. He tried not to gawk too much. Must keep up some appearances, even if they mattered nothing in the end.

He continued looking around, soaking in what seemed like a totally new life given him. Ever since the fight with the verbeeg above the valley, he had been seeing everything in a new light, as if seeing it all for the first time, as a newborn child might. Whatever it was, whether divine or mundane in origin, he was more than happy to enjoy and revel in it.

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#159

Aerex nodded to Talia. "Sure, it shouldn't be a problem," he said reassuringly. "Jantir's got plenty of smiths." Aerex had felt particularly refreshed walking along the gorge trail, ever closer to the Great City. It was more than simple excitement about going "home," however - Jantir no longer felt quite like home. It was the city of his demise, of great changes, of ideas and loyalties that were becoming less familiar to him. He looked forward to seeing the glittering metropolis, but was anxious too.

Matare watched a group of Dalraaenite monks pass by. There were bigger fish to fry than his own worries. "We need to figure out how to track down this guy who may be your father," he said to Talia. "If he's as big a shot as we think he is, he might be hard to get close to."

Re: Convergence (Chap IV)

#160

Ah, the pulse of life, trickling into the heart of the world that was Jantir. Every person surrounded by an aura of emotion, his desires and wants, moving, breathing, cheering or weeping - and Jantir had millions of them. Was it home? Perchance. Of one he was certain - he loved it.

Cheering from chek to cheek, he whistled, and then simply had to tell his companions of all the wondrous placs they might see.

"The singing temple to Hamanshet, the lady of the sea, that one is sure a place to visit - fountains in abundance, water-lilies of colors unseen, waterfalls instead of walls, and priestesses in silk, pearl and shell, of spirit and temper truly unmatched!

Or perchance right next to it, the Voyager's market, with produce from all over the world, and especially fish and seafod - tell them, Aerex: some of the delicacies there are truly worth the coin, or for the less comercially minded, a little subterfuge and a run to safety!

Above the harbor, aside from turmoil and aroma of the docks, Halgar Borenkag and grandma Gudrun have claimed the old watchtower on Griffon Cliff and made it into the nicest pension in town; despite them being dwarves, I tell you best breakfast in town, hearty and meaty. You might grow to love it, Vorodon - cabbage and dumplings and pork, pork-filled pierogis, pork roulade, and pork-and-chese fondue. Also, their daughter is fair indeed, unexpected amongst the small folk. Though, be careful not to eye her too intensely, her father keeps an enchanted battleaxe under the bar.

Beneath the Westwind Gate's Viaduct, Bandor "the Joker" Varski thinks up contests for the guests at his inn - every day, something entertaining can be partaken in, or surveyed from a safe distance. Also, his pasta is decent, with a good selection of the spices. On the other hand, forget his wines and go for the beer.

Actually, Wagner's alehouse has a fine selection of lagers, and bards drink for free there, at least as long as they manage to play.

On the other hand, Shandra's - actually called the Phoenix Ascendant - can boast excellent service, music, enchanting staff, luxurious rooms and of course Shandra herself, but the prices are not for the weak of wallet. I blame her for not being a rich man today.

Bartholomey may openly be a thief, or rather, former thief, with the hook hand to prove it, but he charges his customers fairly; his sortiment is varied indeed, if you are not overly concerned about the origin of his merchandise. Fear not, for he sells distinctive items stolen in Jantir elsewhere, and brings in loot from aboard. Ironically, you can find him in the Broken Cobble Street, a stone's throw away from the Palace of Justice. The distinguished gentlemen within care little, for he pays the watch protection money.

Alas, he's not a crafter, but the fine hard-working gentlemen in the Granite Quarters are. A dwarven district may be dangerous for the elven of blood and careless of mouth to walk into, but the people within work all day. Truth be said, they milk the fat cow that is Jantir well enough; they look the part of hard-working plebeians, but from what I have observed, they must be resting on beds of gold by now. Truth be continued, they earned every penny.

For the less hard-working amonst us, money can be won in the arena, for the amusement of common man and noble alike, if you can stomach a little wrestling, or a little blood. I would not advise you to go to the gambling houses though - they are rigged, an belong to the worst sort of businesmen; the victory there does not depend on on your wit or skill, but the whim of the establisment's master. Should you venture in there, and happen to win, be sure to leave at once, for otherwise, you would be stripped even of the hair on your behind, for what it may be worth."

Stopping to catch breath, he grinned at his compainions.

"I feel more alive with every step I take towards it. Jantir is fun. You get cutpurses and muggers to keep you in shape, the city watch if you want to play a prank or two; the city never sleeps. Ever alive, ever vibrant."

His memories tied to the place were alive, as the day he left to join the Order three long years ago.