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Post by DM CiCi on Jan 31, 2012 22:31:11 GMT -5
Lord Baequimitore smiled at the man's determination.
"No, thank you for taking this quest upon yourself. And by all means don't let me keep you from searching for our lost brethren. If what my servant says is true, that you were no match for that sorcerer, then I fear what might have happened to the lost."
With those words you take your leave and meet with the two guards that have agreed to join you on your search.
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Post by sue on Feb 1, 2012 11:35:21 GMT -5
(I'll actually post in awhile - just wanted to note for katie that Castus is the one faffing about. Merrik has been solidly asleep since we left the catacombs)
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Post by Katherine on Feb 4, 2012 13:09:52 GMT -5
(( gracias! i ws wonderin if u needed a 4th member or if u just want me to stay behind and keep an eye on things. And am i babysitting merrik, can i kick him to wake him up? please?))
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Dark
Round-Ear
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Post by Dark on Feb 5, 2012 10:55:14 GMT -5
((Hello everyone  )) And into this room walked in a tall and muscular young human male, who wore a harbergeon of old and cracked leather, sans both mail and basinet, and his half-breeches appeared supple, but well-stained with age and sweat. His cloak a deep purple well spun of the finest wool. Strapped to his forearm in a sheath rode a long and wicked-looking dagger; and by his side a great long sword with a plainly wrapped grip nestled in an even less ornate leather scabbard. The winds from outside blew the gaint's dark brown hair into a unruly mane about his head, and his deepset eyes cast back the flickering torches almost as if those eyes held blue fire of their own. He was Addrarcyn of the grand city of Therfis he stops and scans the area looking at each person as one looking for any danger. Seeing none he speaks despite his powerful size and built his voice is soft, "Hail an' weel met I'm Addrarcyn Gegwyn of his Lordship's personal guard." |
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Post by Katherine on Feb 5, 2012 11:56:17 GMT -5
"well the welcome and blessings of the goddess Sophia, greet you, i am Lady Knight Terrwyn White Winds, a paladin of Sophia. I am glad you have joined us Master Gegwyn!", said Terrwyn extending her hand in greeting.
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Dark
Round-Ear
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Post by Dark on Feb 5, 2012 12:25:47 GMT -5
Addrarcyn chose that moment to stretch his mighty frame. Sinews cracked and joints popped as he rolled his massive shoulders and flexed his thick arms. "I've come to help please fill me in Lady Terrwyn what would you have me do?"
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Post by DM CiCi on Feb 10, 2012 21:07:58 GMT -5
Kate I had to delete your post.... I told you to hold on..... pay attention to who's in the group. Merrik is the bard/merchant and he is currently sleeping. Castus is the other paladin!
A group of three has now formed outside the main tent consisting of both paladins and Addracyn. After brief introductions and a recount of the past nights events you three make for the familiar ruins a ways outside of the camp.
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Post by sue on Feb 10, 2012 21:42:07 GMT -5
Castus tugged his gloves on, making both the ring and his maimed hand, then flexed his fingers experimentally. The bulk of the metal was unfamiliar, and he hoped it wouldn't adversely affect his sword grip. Even with that concern, though, he was unwilling to remove it - one did not simply cast aside a gift from the gods.
He stared out into the forest, steeling himself for their journey in spite of the deep weariness that had settled into his bones.
Am I so old already? he wondered, bemused. During the wars, hardly a decade ago, he had been well able to handle the marches, in spite of being one of the few non-elven members of his unit. This should have been nothing. But you are no elf, Castus. Age is hard on the heels of your kind.
Shrugging off his thoughts, he raised a hand to point towards the woods, for the guard's benefit. "The catacombs lie that way. I cannot say what we may encounter therein, but you had best prepare for a battle. Lady Terrwyn," he added, "I am sure that I needn't remind you to stay close. The three of us had best remain within reach, and certainly sight, of each other."
With that, he strode off into the forest. It was to his relief that some of the exhaustion seemed to fade, once he'd fallen into a steady pace.
***
Hearing the sounds of the party departing, Merrik opened a single eye, cautiously, leaving it slitted lest someone had stayed behind to see.
Spotting no one, he opened both eyes and indulged in a luxuriant stretch, yawning massively as he disentangled himself from the blankets he'd pilfered. Orn'ooble was, as always, close at hand, and he snatched it up as he rose.
He was grateful that he'd avoided this expedition. Not that he wasn't worried about the missing, of course, but...it had a feeling of hopelessness, to him.
The merchant glanced around, listening for any noise within the tent. He thought he heard some sound in the closed-off portion, and crept towards it curiously, trying to keep as quiet as possible.
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Post by DM CiCi on Feb 10, 2012 22:32:49 GMT -5
As you creep closer to his Lordship's private area, you can hear the beginings of a hushed conversation between Lord Baequimitore and her Ladyship Solnessona
"My dear, have you devised of a way to help the dragon out of his current state?" she asks.
"I have been thinking long and hard. It is not my wish to offer false hope but there is little I can do as of this moment. His holiness can offer little advice either, as both our powers are so week right now," he replies in a saddened tone.
"I know I can feel it. Every time you use your powers, every time he speaks through you, I can see the drain on your body."
"Yes. I cannot deny it, and I also cannot hide it for much longer. The best I can do is urge them forward. Inspire them towards reviving Corllinn Thalon. Only then will I have the power to help Sir Merrik."
"And then we all will be saved."
"Yes. Tis a pity we cannot do more. A dragon would be a powerful ally indeed. Just like the Great Wyrm who guards the spring of Lothen- the gateway to the gods."
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Post by sue on Feb 10, 2012 22:43:34 GMT -5
Merrik's grip tightened on the sword, and he felt his hands shaking with restrained anger, but he bit his lip. Can't help, he seethed, after I've been running all over-
He paused, composing himself, and frowned. I ought to be more honest with myself, he reasoned, I guess I really haven't done all that much yet.
Though putting things in perspective always had a way of souring his mood, at least it tempered his anger. It seemed that, unless he found a better offer, he was in this for the long haul - as a human. He drummed his fingernails on the sword, contemplating, until he heard something surprising -
"Great Wyrm?" he gasped aloud, then bit his lip fiercely, suspecting his cover was blown. "Dammit."
Sighing in resignation, he tapped on the tent flap.
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Post by DM CiCi on Feb 10, 2012 22:51:52 GMT -5
"Enter," his lordship commanded, with a slight jump at the thought that his previous conversation may have been overheard. Just as well though- he hated keeping up false pretenses.
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Post by sue on Feb 10, 2012 22:58:10 GMT -5
The merchant slunk in, keeping his head uncharacteristically low. "Er, ah- forgive me," he spoke, awkwardly, "I had woken up, and...tents being tents," he straightened up, having found an excuse he could get behind, "I couldn't help but overhear, a bit."
He paused briefly, glancing around the room before turning his gaze on the elf, regarding him a bit sideways. "I was surprised to hear mention of a Great Wyrm," he said, choosing to avoid the rest of what he had heard, "I am only just adult myself," he spoke this part hurriedly, "and have never seen one so...ah, well...old."
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Post by DM CiCi on Feb 10, 2012 23:12:03 GMT -5
The lord and lady are seated together on a low cot across the way that is furnished rather luxuriously with cushions and blankets. In the far corner of the area Daesi is sleeping on a bedroll underneath a heavy blanket.
"Well the Wyrm we were talking about is rarely seen outside her lair deep with in Lake Lothen in the heart of the Quessir homeland. She has guarded a sacred spring that serves as a portal to the godly realms for centuries since the Scourge left Lateu'Souress a barren wasteland. It is also said that it is that very spring that is the source of all Quessir magic. Lunniea Flora himself, and the elves owe a great debt to the dragons."
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Post by sue on Feb 10, 2012 23:24:10 GMT -5
Merrik blinked and cocked his head as he listened, considering. He stood immobile for awhile after hearing the explanation, then, all at once, let his form slump easily to the ground in a relaxed, cross-legged sitting position.
"I'd ask you to forgive me my earlier rudeness," he said, his tone formal. "I find my temper is short in this time of upheaval I seem to be experiencing."
He fiddled with the sword uncomfortably for a moment, glancing at Daesi while he searched for words. He wished he knew more history, and regretted that he'd never much cared to study it.
"I, ah..." he began, but immediately trailed off for a time, lost for words for once. If there was a Great Wyrm in play here, and the elves felt indebted to her, that changed things considerably.
"I think I might catch up with the paladins, if I can."
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Post by DM CiCi on Feb 10, 2012 23:31:37 GMT -5
Lord Baequimitore smiled inwardly. Although he never ment for his words to be heard by anyone except his wife, he knew this breach in confidance was not in vain.
"Go if you must then," he replied reaching for a scroll on the table, his hand passing over several objects before he could discern the one he wished to hand off. "Can you give this to Lady Terrwyn then. Just something to help aide in the search."
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))