339 replies to this topic

[mike_]

Rom's nervous habit of unconsciously pawing the earth with his hoof once again reared it's ugly head. He would have been happy enough to wait for the others on the other side of the town, outside the gates, but apparently they had other plans. He was currently crouched inside the Lord of the town's stables, which had been made empty for his privacy.

Leaning his axe against the wall, he noticed a young page had come to attend to him. Doing his best to mimic the young man's nervous smile, he instead invoked a choked, muted scream from the young man as Rom's eyeteeth, the size of the boy's forefingers, were exposed.

Hastily closing his lips and concealing his formidable array of oral cutlery, Rom coughed and tried to communicate with the wide-and-wild-eyed page.

"Erm...what would you wish...master? Some er.. barley.. soup?" The poor soul was doing his best not to infuriate the imposing Minotaur, which Rom realized and was doing his best not to come off as threatening. "Um... how about a nice bit of salad? I suppose the cooks could prepare some greens if they strike your fancy?" At Rom's inquisitive look the page remembered his massive canines, then with waning morale inquired, "Or... a nice bit of meat? Beef? Pork? I'm sure some lamb would not be out of the er... question?" This last statement was nothing more than a squeak, as the young man fought back a rising anticipation of having done wrong and insulted the... guest.

Instead, Rom tugged at the sides of his mouth, making a toothless grim. It wasn't very convincing. He then tentatively replied, "Beef is good. Pork better. What is lamb?"

Trying to ignore the cold sweat running gathering on his body, the page said with a bit too much forced humour, "Lamb, sir. Sheep. Would you like some lamb chops?"

Rom shook his head vigorously, his knowledge of the human tongue all-but exasperated. "Yes.. please? Yes. Please!" Gaining confidence in his grasp of this foreign tongue, he pronounced the last bit in a shout.

As the page skittered away, Rom called out, "And a salad! Bring one of those, aye!" He said this to be polite, having never heard the word before.

[some_weirdGuy]

Zhar had walked, sword pressed at his throat, for the whole Trip. Inside his head a few of him were fuming.
just blast the damn elf
yesss, killss him.

but the one in control now was not the same Zhar as before. This personality was a mute, and simply walked without protest. At one time he stopped, grabbing the arrow with one hand and snapping it in the other. He did this without indication of pain. The arrow head was still embedded in his chest, but he seemed completely unconcerned.

The others seem to put his lack of talkativeness down to the sword pressed against his neck. not seeming to notice thisquite personality for what it was. He just walked, staring into nothingness, his eyes out of focus, as if he was sleep walking. Every so often he would get looks from different members of the party. the paladin esspecially, kept his hand hovering over his sword hilt. even as he seemed to loose the others attention the dwarf kept one eye on him at all times... and of coarse illyriel's gaze never strayed far.

Now he sat where he had been put, still staring off into nothingness. He stayed like this for many hours...

[Rafv Nin IV]

Shava entered the inn with the rest of the party. She didn't enjoy human taverns too much. Too many tall things. Chairs and benches and tables and counters and people that stretched to the sky. The race of men was none too accomodating to other species. She immediately headed toward her room on the ground floor--stairs, while manageable, could impede such a small creature. Shava passed doors as she shambled down the hall, and soon arrived at her destination. With a running start, she leaped into the air and grabbed the doorknob, turning it and entering the room.

A bath was soon in order. Once a bucket of warm water had been brought to her room, Shava undressed and cleaned herself. This was an urgent necessity--according to gnomish custom, single, unmated gnomes had to remain as spotless as possible. When coupled, however, gnomes skirted bathing as an expression of devotion; after a few years of marriage, the accumulated muck prevented any sort of infidelity. If the relationship fell through, the now-single gnomes would wash away the grime and the new cleanliness would symbolize availability. Shava had had no more than a few rinses since the journey had begun, and although she had strived to remain spick and spam, the dust of travel had a way of inserting itself into unlikely places.

After Shava finished with her wash and donned clean clothes, she entered the main room of the inn. Feeling adventurous, she ordered the barkeeper, "A half-cup, if you will, sir."

Edited by Ravnin IV, 01 December 2008 - 11:59 PM.

[Copaman]

Tom hooded himself upon entering the palace. As the servants came to each member, Tom made sure to invoke his human facade; although this time it appeared he was not fast enough. The man sent to serve Tom caught Tom's true identity was immediately overtaken by fear.

"Y-y-y-y-y -- you're J-J-J-" Before finishing his words, the man looked up at Tom, perhaps expecting to see a blade about to take his life; he then realized that Tom Joad was indeed not there, but instead a rather normal looking man. He gathered himself as best he could, as quickly as he could. "Please forgive my rudeness, sir. It was as if I -"

Tom cut him short. "As if you what, saw a ghost? Don't be so dumbfounded by the appearence of strangers. You'll never make it in the real world."

"Yes, sir," the man quickly nodded. "What can I do for you this evening?" he inquired.

"Nothing. Where is the nearest tavern?"

"It is out the palatial road and to your left. Will you be requiring gold for your trip? The lord will be happy to pay for your drinks."

"No. Thank him for me, though."

As Tom turned for the door, he made sure to stop by Theria quickly. "I am not long for this town," he whispered to her. "I have been here before and the people are not exactly fond of me. Expect me back sometime before daybreak."

==

In the streets, Tom remained as anonymous as possible. He put his hood up and avoided the gazes he drew upon entering the tavern. "A pint," he said to the barkeep as he took a stool.
Without looking, the barkeep gave Tom his bit of advice. "'Ave two o' th' 'ouse special. It's better tasting an' cheaper fer th' two."
"Fine," Tom said, and laid out his pieces of coin. As he recieved his drinks, he downed them quickly and took a seat in a rather plush chair by the fire. Time to time, a woman would come by, asking if Tom wanted more of the "house special" lager; Tom thought it would be rude to refuse. He caught a vibe from her sugessting that she was the barkeep's wife.

As time went on and he drank more and more of the special, Tom began to see things in the fire, shapes, names, creatures... alcohol does odd things to a Deathknelf's mind. One by one, the patrons of the bar filed out, leaving Tom in the chair and the local drunk passed out on his stool. The barkeep cleaned his bar and came out from behind it, and sat down next to Tom.

"Wassa mattah, mate? You've been o'er 'ere starin at th' fire fer hours, man." Tom was drunk enough not to care what the man was talking about or what he said in return.
"Man..." he started. "I don't even know you, man, but what the hell. That shit was soooo good..."
"Aye. I've been brewin it fer years - got it damn near perfected."
"Yeahhhh man... you're askin me whas wrong?"
"Well, seein as how it's you, me, n' sleepy over there, I guess so."
"Alrighht man. Here's how it is. I met this girl like a week ago, and we see each other, like, every day, man. She's, like, amazing. Smart, funny, caring, y'know, a total babe, bro. And I'm like damn, bro. She's amazing. And sometime's I'll be catchin these sweet vibes off her like she wants it but then other times, like when I'm talking to her, she'll be all like, blowin me off, y'know? And now I'm just like what the hell, man. Should I stay after her, d'you think, or should I, like, let her be?"
"Mate, I haven't the slightest idea who you are, but you're th' weirdest drunk I've ever met."
"Well, thanks, bro. But what do you think?"
"I think you're in love, mate. Go to her now. Be there when she needs you, but don't cramp 'er up, don't suffocate 'er. 'Sides, women already got nature crampin' them up anyways. Get out of 'ere, mate. Ye've got a woman to love."
"Hahaaaa, man, true that... Alright, bro. Thanks a ton, man."
"No prollem. You're welcome back any time."

Tom put his hood up and made his way back to the palace, pondering how he managed to keep his facade up through the haze of multiple beers. He staggered his way inside, where his servant was asleep at the door waiting for him. "Hey, man," Tom said as he shook the poor fellow. "Man, where's my bed, bro?" The guy looked up at drunken Tom warily and stood up. He then took Tom to his sleeping quarters. Tom promptly took a coin out of a pouch and handed it to the man. "Thanks, bro. You're so, like, good to me, bro."

"Yes, yes, sir. You're welcome."


By the light of a candle, Tom found some parchment, an ink well, and a quill. He hastily scrawled his note to Theria and read it twice, not caring that it was blatantly written by a drunken version of himself. He walked into the hallway and took a deep whiff of the air - he had been around Theria so much recently he knew her not only by sight and sound but smell as well (this was something handy he learned while moving from town to town; every being produces a unique smell,). He read it again and slipped it under her door. He then returned to his quarters and shut his door behind him, falling asleep quickly on the comfortable mattress.

It read a simple:

Ther -

Had a long night sorry i got drunk in the tavern it was fun the barkeep was really nice. It was a total sausage fest so dont get concerned but I'm not sure why you would. I might not be up on time i know i still have to tell you about the language i spoke in the woods its weird i call it Ebrion. If i dont wake up at sunrise (i know you get up right about then becuase i do too) please just knock on my door i might not wake up at first but if you knock a couple of times and maybe say my name if you have to i'll wake up. I like to keep my promises so waking me up tomorrow morning will help me keep that promise.

sorry for the note i know its juvenile of me but i really didnt want to wake you up because i know how much you wanted a good sleep

Tom

[Vithar-133]

Vithar watched the town from the boughs of a tree he'd climbed. It looked like a nice place. He almost wished he'd followed the group.

<Ah...too late now for regrets. I hope they won't remain too long. I've no desire to remain here long. Not with that golem-summoning human around,> thought Vithar.

He did not understand how the mage survived such a hit. A shot that clean could stop some of the strongest creatures in Arsenica.

<there's no possible way a normal human could survive such a shot! Not even I could survive a hit like that!>, thought Vithar, angrily, <It's not worth worrying about now. Hmm...time for a little foraging. It's been a while since I last ate.>

Vithar jumped out of the tree. Blending with the trees, Vithar hunted and foraged for a quick meal. Soon after eating, he took a small canteen and drank a gulp of liquid. Replacing the canteen, Vithar climbed a tree over-looking the town and took out a book. It seemed like an old book, but Vithar took out a quill and wrote in the book about the day's events. After finishing, he dried the ink with a spell and put the book and quill away and resumed his watch of the Town.

[some_weirdGuy]

As if waking from a daydream Zhar snapped to attention. It was dark and everyone around was either in bed or going to bed.
"h-h-hmmm, while the cats away the mouse... will play" he fugitively looked around, slinking to the ground, which he crawled across like a burglar sneaking around a noblemans home. He then, in a fluid motion, raised up to strand in a stooped position. there was a couch position in front of him, and like someone trying to be sneaky but failing terribly he flipped over the back of it to land on the seat, he let out a little yelp as he landed right on the arrow head still protruding from his chest slightly,
"oh.. right. Well, i know how to fix that". He made his way all the way to the exit in the same silly fashion.


In the morning a few riders found an merchant dead in the streets, his throat had been slit and an arrow head was found in the ground next to the mans dead body. The merchant was a tyrant, whom no body liked, but still his murder was a big story.

As the others woke up Zhar was there to 'greet' them. Sitting in the same seat which he had been placed in the other day, but this time sitting more casually... maybe a little too casually.
"have you been sitting there the whole night?" asked a man as he noticed the mages eyes upon him
"why uh... yes, yes i have, all night long i just uh... sat. No scratch that, i slept here... yess" the servant looked at him funnily, but then moved on to whatever work the needed to do, dismissing the mages odd manner.

((now please, no one go and be all like "and then my guy randomly somehow knows zhar did it, and threatens him or whatever"... no body saw the killer, people in the town will be chatting about it, maybe one of us could be like 'hmm thats interesting', but asides from that it doesn't concern us in any way))

Edited by some_wierdGuy, 02 December 2008 - 01:18 AM.

[Vithar-133]

Vithar rose with the sun. He heard a quiet commotion about this city. Something seemed out of place. Leaping out of the tree, Vithar moved to toward the town. He walked slowly towards the town, as if he'd traveled through the night.

"Halt, traveler! State your purpose!"

"I've seen only the road for nigh on a week, man. I am in need of a drink and some food," said Vithar.

"Huh...right. I've heard it before. Cause a commotion, and you won't leave the city alive."

"Of course, fine sir. No trouble."

The Guards glared at Vithar's hooded form as he walked by. He saw a merchant laying in the street. A dead merchant. Vithar walked over.

<This is what must have cause the commotion I heard...What's this?>, Vithar wondered. He bent down and retrieved the arrowhead, <One of my arrowheads?! How did this get here? I have not fired an arrow like this for a long time...>

The arrowhead was broad, meant to pierce armour. Unbeknownst to Vithar, this was the self same arrow that he shot at the mage, but the metal had been melted and disfigured. The only thing that marked the arrow as Vithar's was a small hunter-green ring of paint close to where the rest of the arrow had been broken off. Dropping the ruined arrowhead on the ground, Vithar walked towards a nearby inn for a quick breakfast and some warm tea.


EDIT: Few grammar/ spelling mistakes.

Edited by Vithar Megilaglar, 02 December 2008 - 03:46 AM.

[Vortigern]

((Gah, third time lucky. Bloody stupid internet and having to go to classes at inappropriate moments... By the way, sorry for the godmod, Vithar, but I'm sure you'll understand.))

Theria awoke, slowly, letting out a low moan. Just one night in a soft bed had done wonders for her. She lay still for a few moments, savouring the gorgeous sensation of the mattress, then swung her unclothed legs out of the bed and on to the carpeted floor: fancy indeed. She made her way across the room to where a porcelain basin kept vigil, beside a steaming jug of freshly heated water. Efficient and quiet, she thought. Who says you can't get the staff these days? She splashed her face once or twice, then began scrubbing away at her body, all the dirt and sweat and accumulated grime that the long, soaking bath she had revelled in the night before had been unable to remove. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

It was then that she noticed the note on the sideboard, beside the warm bread roll that had been brought in for her to break her fast. She glanced down at the bottom of the note to see from whom it came, and was mildly surprised to find that it was from Tom. She read through the note.

"Ebrion?" Theria had never heard of it, possibly because she had never paid any attention to the abilities of the Deathknelv. The Minotaurs were and always would be where her strongest interests lay. Allowing a smile to play across her delicate features, Theria tenderly laid down the note, before strolling back to the bed. Lying down on this bed was simply too comfortable to resist.

* * * * * * * *

The town watch were busy finding out all they could about the murder that had taken place during the hours of darkness, canvassing citizens, offering rewards for witnesses, but nothing was forthcoming. They began resorting to long shots before too long. The twisted arrowhead that had been found beside the body was shown around the crowd, and it caught the attention of one of the crowd.

"There's an elf, or somethin', at the Horse an' Crown wi' a bunch of arrows like that. I seen them on 'is back." The town watch made their way to the inn wherein Vithar the half-breed sat, enjoying his tea. Bursting in, the guards located him immediately; he was not exactly inconspicuous.

"You're under arrest for murder. Get him in chains, boys," ordered the captain. Vithar rose smoothly to his feet, his back to the guards.

"Chains will not be necessary, captain. I am sure that whatever you think I have done can be resolved when the truth is uncovered." He turned to face his erstwhile captors, calm and assured. "Where would you care to take me?"

((OK, so Vithar's under arrest. I couldn't resist, sorry. What now, eh, chaps?))

[Vithar-133]

Despite how calmly he spoke, by the time Vithar was in is cell, he was fuming.

"Kef!" cursed Vithar, silently, "I should have stayed in the woods, or at least gotten out of this god-forsaken town."

One of the guards peered into the cell. All he saw was Vithar sitting straight-backed in the center of the cell.

"Look at this, thinks if he sulks we'll let him free no doubt!" laughed one of the guards.

However, Vithar was far from sulking. He was meditating, keeping a keen edge on his mind, in case he had to force his escape. His physical weapons and his pack were being held in another room, meaning if he chose to use magic, he'd have no way to restore his energy quickly.

<Best to let someone else deal with this,> thought Vithar, <How incompetent can I possibly be? I should have stuck with wandering through Arsenica...>

-----------

((Eh, doesn't bother me much.))

[Copaman]

Tom got up on his own will, to his suprise. He groaned as he became painfully aware of the pounding in his head... while the deathknelve don't get drunk as other species do, they recieve the same punishment.

He sat up at first, resting his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. After some internal debate as to whether he should go back to sleep or get up, he made his way from the bed to the washbin. After soaking himself thoroughly, he tossed his shaggy hair around, and set it into its usual shaggy style. If there is such a thing...

He quickly quaffed his quaint roll, and finished off with a long draught from his skin of the nectar. As he got into his clothes, he paused for a moment. "What the hell," he said, "why not?" He proceeded to put his white-and-maroon training clothes on. It was a pleasent change.

He made his way down the stairs and outside. His servant ran out to him, but Tom simply waved him off. First things first. I'll check to make sure that we have everybody.

Tom found Rom in the stables, and had noticed that odd human in the palace. That's all good and well, but where is the newest of the newcomers, he thought. Quickly, he found his way to the town gates and strolled into the forest. He ran around the perimeter of the town twice, to no avail. The newcomer was not to be found.

He went back into town and made his way back to the tavern. The barkeep from the night before greeted him with a smile and a small cup of tea. "On th' 'ouse," he said. "You're a right good man. 'Ave ye heard the new yet?"
Accepting the cup, Tom sat down. "No, I haven't. What has happened?"
"A rotten merchant was killed last night. 'Eyre sayin' that some freako killed 'im. The bloke was in 'ere just 'afore you came."
"Oh. How unfortunate. Thank you very much for the tea... it was all I needed to get myself going again."
"Any time, mate."

Tom walked out of the tavern and ran back to the palace. He went upstairs and found Illyriel up and about.
"Ill," he said calmly. "The halfling we picked up yesterday has been nailed for murdering a local last night. Something tells me he's not the sort to do it, but either way we were his companions. I know most humans towns fancy guilt by association... If they get him to confess, whether he did it or not, we're all headed to the stockade. We need to find him."

Edited by Copaman, 02 December 2008 - 11:47 PM.
I spelt cup cuG...

[some_weirdGuy]

Zhar was now up and about, boredom had already set in, and he couldn't sit any longer...

He rose smoothly, chattering his teeth for some unknown reason, and stretching. He placed a hand on his chest where the arrow had pieced, and was happy to note that it was all healed now. Damn magic arrow...
Zhar always found that enchanted weapons usually left a mark no matter if he had made a sacrifice recently or not. If it had been a normal arrow it would have probably healed on its own. Energy still coursed through him from the group of bandits he had chased down, but it would seem that the bowman wielded at least some magical ability, and as thus the wound had remained open.

As he walked he recalled the events of last night...

As Zhar had wandered the streets he saw through a second story window a fat merchant angrily beating one of his servants, another man stepped forward, young and slim,
"please father dont!" but the merchant angrily back-handed the young man across the face, knocking him over.
"Get out of my sight, all of you!" raged the merchant.

Catching Zhars interest the mage had floated upwards, to the same height as the window. the merchant was grumbling to himself as he pulled silken covers over his large frame...
It was at that moment Zhar decided what to do.

He slipped in through the window and silently walked up to the merchants bed. the merchant had awoken and at first went to say something in an outraged voice. But then he saw the kriss in Zhars hand, and leaped backwards out of bed, backing towards the now open window...
'wh.. what? who..?" Zhar moved forward swiftly and stabbed the knife in the fat mans chest. The merchant crumpled froward, gripping zhars arms, before tumbled backwards and out the window.

There was a sickening thud as the mans body hit the street below. Zhar stepped to the window sill and surveyed the damage. He felt the tingle of regeneration beginning in his chest, and with a grunt had pulled out the arrow head and dropped it out the window to and next to the merchant.

Then, as silently as he had entered, he left...

Now as he walked through the streets he overheard a couple talking,
"yeah, they say they found the culprit! some halfbreed from what i hear, they say he shot the merchant with an arrow through his window, the man then feel to the streets below"
"oh my"
"yeah, unlucky for him the dope left a key piece of evidence at the scene of the crime, one of his arrow heads was found next to the body. They are going to have to prosecute... that merchant had some powerful allies"

This just keeps getting better and better came one of the voices in his head
...yesss, two birdss with one ssstone...

Edited by some_wierdGuy, 02 December 2008 - 10:39 PM.

[Vithar-133]

Vithar heard townspeople talking about the merchant's death and his own capture through the barred window.

<This is not good...I come into a city for less than an hour and I end up locked up in a cell,> thought Vithar, <The group I've been watching will probably leave me here...That's probably a good thing.>

Some guards were carousing in the hall. Vithar stood and walked to the window. The second story cell would not be a hard jump, easy in fact for Vithar. But he wouldn't dare leave his weapons. Especially Nyrsavai, his katana. It had been with him most of his life, and he wasn't going to leave it. So he just sat. His situation looked grim.

<Eh, I'll only endanger the group. It's best that they just leave me here,> thought Vithar, grimly,<Heh. Out of sight, out of mind. Well, at least I won't have to face anyone I know, should I be executed...>

Vithar returned to the center of the room and began meditating.

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

((I think it might be interesting if someone 'caught' Vithar's presence somehow... And perhaps someone suggests leaving Vithar.))

Edited by Vithar Megilaglar, 02 December 2008 - 10:58 PM.

[Vortigern]

((Don't worry about that, we're all a bunch of arseholes on the sly. ))

A knock came of Theria's door as she lay semi-comatose on the bed.

"Come in," she called, not bothering to move. The bed was far too comfortable for that. Illyriel pushed the door open and headed to the bed. He sat down on the end, and signalled for her to sit up.

"That half-breed we met yesterday has been arrested for murdering some local. Tom's fairly sure we'll be judged guilty by association. Any ideas?" Theria struggled up on her elbows.

"What?" She frowned, piecing together what Illyriel had just said. Her mind was not at its best having just re-awoken. "He didn't seem the type to kill in cold blood."

"Who knows with Furya," replied Illyriel. "Either way, we'd best either get him out and make a run for it or just make a run for it."

"We're not just going to run away. If it comes to the worst we'll fight our way out, but I doubt it will. Now get out, I have to get dressed." Illyriel smirked teasingly before getting to his feet and strolling out with a jaunty nod. As soon as the door closed, Theria got out of the bed and picked out her freshly laundered travelling clothes. There's no such thing as a day off.

[Dauth]

Thaos left his meal with the Lord of the manner in a distressed mood. Not only was his favourite maid 'Mysteriously absent' one of the Duke's Heralds was passing through the town and they were due to be introduced. Thaos had known instantly his forgeries would not fool an expert such as the Herald, he'd managed to stall the meeting for a day but they still had under 36 hours to leave town.

In Thaos' calm mind however 36 hours was an eternity, he spent some time outside the keep picking up gossip as he floated from stall to stall acquiring weapons for himself and a band for the Minotaur to attach swatches to. Pinning direct into the fur was unprofessional at best and dangerously suspicious at worst. Within the news of the day Vithar's description kept reappearing and Thaos decided that warriors on his side were better than against him.

Unlike some of the party, Theria seemed the least likely to attack him for news, Thaos resolved to inform her of the updated departure date, he meanwhile had plans to meet Vithar and conjure an escape.

Edited by Dauth, 02 December 2008 - 11:54 PM.

[mike_]

Rom had spent the morning wandering the palace grounds, safe inside the inner walls that defined the line between the wealthy and the not.

Snorting in disgust, Rom turned his attention to his companions. They were inside the mansion, either eating breakfast or simply lounging in their grandiose furnishings.

Striding towards the western entrance, Rom ducked his head, and inched his way into the open doors. The Lord had high opinions of himself - which were represented in the larger-than-usual architecture of his palace (including the archways at each entrance, to Rom's unspoken thanks). However, the doors inside the over-sized lodgings were normal (for human standards), to his chagrin.

Finding several of his new friends in the hearth-room, Rom settled down, crossing his legs and sitting on a richly-made rug. The Deathknelf and Wood-elf were deep in conversation concerning the wanderer that had joined them in fighting the golem. Apparently he'd been convicted of killing a local merchant. They were currently discussing how to deal with this peculiar problem, when Rom coughed deeply and stood to his feet. Attention to turned to him, Rom rumbled, "Tämä ... uusi seuralainen omiamme. Hän on vankilassa, kyllä? No ... Olen velkaa hänelle. Hän hajamielinen rock-peto, kun se oli minulle varalta on sitovasti todeta, että on ant a rock liian suuri sen. Haluan murtaa häntä hänen häkki. "
"This... new companion of ours. He is in prison, yes? Well... I owe him. He distracted the rock-beast when it had me in pinched in a bind like to that of an ant under a rock too big for it. I will break him from his cage." The others began to protest, but Rom silenced them with a stern glare and continued, "Ei, ei. Olen ainoa joka pääsee kuin koira veräjästä se helposti ja nopeasti. Te muut voivat olla kiinni ja yritti ... voin helposti saada häntä vapaasti ja turvallisesti ja pois. Aion rikkoa että rauta häkkiin ja vapaan oman ystävä. Olen velkaa hänelle. Sinun ei. Älä yritä estää minua. jätän klo auringonlasku. Odota meitä on Koillis-portille, kun puita ulkopuolella. Jos en palaa ... En ole paluuta. Älä mitä voit hänelle, jos hän edelleen asuu. Jos ei ... jatkaa. Hyvästi. " "This... new companion of ours. He is in prison, yes? Well... I owe him. He distracted the rock-beast when it had me in pinched in a bind like to that of an ant under a rock too big for it. I will break him from his cage." "No, no. I am the only one who can get away with it easily and quickly. You others may be caught and tried... I can easily get him free and safe and away. I will break that iron cage and free my friend. I owe him this. You do not. Do not attempt to dissuade me. I leave at sundown. Wait for us at the northeastern gate, in the trees outside. If I do not return... I do not return. Do what you can for him if he still lives. If not... continue. Farewell."

Turning slowly, Rom walked out of the palace to whet his axe.

[Vithar-133]

Vithar began considering getting out. He walked to the window. The bars were none too strong. A shift in where the bars rested and he could pull them into the cell and get out. But of course, his mind wandered back to his weapons and his pack. Not so much his weapons this time, as his pack itself. It contained gifts from a very close friend.

<If those blustering humans dared dig through my pack, I'll raze this blasted town, whether it kills me or not. It's not like I owe them much of anything,> thought Vithar.

A few hours passed, getting terribly boring.

"Heh, you look bored, Furya. Do you want to come out and play?" The guards laughed and sneered at Vithar, who simply glanced at them and looked away.

Vithar was tired of this. Almost every town he entered turned against him because of his being Half-breed. This one only went farther than the rest and actually incarcerated him.

<It's no wonder I consciously avoided towns. If I survive this, I doubt I'll be going within a half-league of any human settlements without protection...>

A couple guards were talking farther down the corridor.

"...He couldn't have done it! I'm almost positive that I saw this half-breed earlier this morn."

"Yeah. Archers generally recover their arrows, and very few arrows actually break like that."

"Fools. This half-breed's been playing mind-games with you. How can you--"

"Sir, the merchant's wound...It looked nothing like a arrow-wound. Too clean. And the arrow was bloodless."

"Eh, have you two been too into yer drinks again? You know you'ren't supposed to be in the Taverns and Inns during your shifts. Now get back too it!"

Vithar looked up as the two gate-guards walked past. The self-same ones who greeted him this morning.

<Why were they defending me, I wonder. Maybe they'll be able to help me out of here.>

"Hey, you're that traveler, aren't you?" asked the guard who'd "greeted" him that morning.

"I am. Why do you ask?" replied Vithar, calmly.

"Well, we think that you've been incarcerated because the person who identified you might have been a veteran of the Old War, and just happened to notice something odd about you."

"Aye. To me, you like like an elf. Just an ordinary elf."

"I suppose that's good..." said Vithar.

"Well, we're relatively new, but we'll try to help defend you if there's a trial."

"Heh. I appreciate it," said Vithar, then thought, <Why in the heavens are they helping me? They'll probably end up executed for assisting a prisoner...I don't think I'll ever understand humans...>

"We are willing to help you in anyway possible, traveler."

"My gear. I would very much like it back. You wouldn't mind getting it for me, would you?"

"Aye, we will...but is there anything else you need?"

"Ah...blanket would be nice. and a "pillow"."

"Consider it done."

"After you are done, make yourselves scarce. You services here will be looked down upon."

"Aye."

The Guards quickly brought a rough blanket with a rough pillow. The guards slipped it through the bars.

"Thanks," muttered Vithar.

"You don't deserve to be like this. Hopefully someone will help you, mate."

Vithar leaned against a wall, and began meditating, the 'blanket' laying beside him.

------------
Edit: changed it up a bit.

Edited by Vithar Megilaglar, 03 December 2008 - 04:03 AM.

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

((Jeez you guys really leave no time between posts, it's ridiculous how much you miss here! Anyway, here's a post which I enjoyed writing but has no real relevance ))

Despite the increasingly bad new of the day, Illyriel was in a good mood. He had woken up in bed with a mysterious woman (which he hadn't been expecting - opening and closing his mouth a few times, he had eventually settled with 'Huh,' before making his departure) and this being a suitably large town they had actually possessed some wine. He had had a nice morning chat with Tom, who was much less threatening in human form and when he wasn't head to toe in weaponry, followed by a nice morning chat with Theria, followed by a surprisingly pleasant breakfast which was finally followed by Rom offering to take their Furya-related problems of his hands. All things considered, a successful morning. Sighing contentedly he settled down in his chair and put his feet up.
Alas, the morning of pleasure was not to continue. "Well we can't just let him do it by himself," exclaimed Theria immediately on the minotaur's departure from the hearth room.
"Why not?" Illyriel queried, "he's a big lad, he can take care of himself. I say we relax for the afternoon then bugger off and all's well that ends well. Who's with me? Ow!" This last he added as Bazric cuffed him violently round the ankles.
"Don't be a coward boy. The lady is right - we cannae let a noble beast charge to his death needlessly."
Illyriel nursed his ankle over-dramatically as the two launched into tactical discussion.
"Boy!" he muttered, "I know I'm young at heart but I'm at least two hundred years older than him..."

[Copaman]

"I'm with Theria and Bazric on this one. After breaking the cell apart and grabbing our newcomer, he wouldn't make it halfway to the gate. If anything, I could try a pathetic attempt at being a false witness... I was out last night, after all. Maybe I was convieniently close enough to never see the boy but also not see the muderer? And if all else fails, we break him out and then slaughter our way out of this town. But whatever we do we've got to do it soon."

Tom excused himself for a moment, found his way back to his room from the night before, and layered his white-with-red-trimming training clothes with his brown travelling clothes. He had gotten cold for some unknown reason.

He returned to the group and motioned to the servant that had been assigned to him. "Would you be so kind as to find me a sandwich?"
"What kind?"
"Oh, I don't know, suprise me with something with beef."

Tom then turned his attention back to the debate. "I mean honestly," he entered, "So far we've picked each other up just fine, accepted some random Drow and a human into our ranks, welcomed a minotaur, and we now have an issue keeping one of our company out of jail? Have the pleasentries of a good town, which I might add, were gotten by a man playing dress up, clouded your minds?"

The servant had returned with the sandwich. It was warm and dripped something similar to a think broth when Tom picked it up. He took a large bite, chewed twice, and began talking through his stuffed mouth. "Mmpfh, erm... really, the civil thing here... hmpff, mmph... would be to convice the jailer that our friend is innocent and be on our merry way." Tom swallowed and took another bite, continuing his sentance afterwards. "I mean, really," he managed to say in a voice muffled by the shear amount of food in his mouth, "why can't we all just be civil?" As he finished the last word, a glob of the think broth fell towards the floor; Tom jumped back skillfully to avoid having it land on his pants. No doubt he had done it before.

"As for me, I'll leave you all to continue debating, but I'm headed to the palace ground to keep my mind and my bladework sharp. Come and get me when you've all decided what to do."

He did just that, walking out of the palace and onto the grounds. When he felt a safe distance away, he put his hood up and assumed his true identity, and then began to practice his unique fighting style. Some of the guards stopped what they were doing to marvel at the spectacle. "No way he's from these parts," said one. The other just nodded.

[Vithar-133]

Vithar leaned against a wall and heard a slight commotion in the jail. Apparently, the newest prisoner's equipment disappeared. Just up and disappeared.

"Equipment like that doesn't just disappear! You dolts! That could have gotten any of us a promotion! Didn't see what was in that blasted pack, but those weapons look fine to me. That sword woulda made a nice compliment to my armour. Don't let it happen again."

"Sir, should we--"

"No. I'll see you tried for this insubordination. Get outta here and guard the walls!"

The captain walked up to Vithar's cell.

"So, you're the Murderer, eh?"

Vithar stared calmly into the face of the Captain.

"Answer me, Furya! Now!"

"I don't see a reason to answer you unless you don't listen to rumour."

"Ooohhhh...Think you're smart, eh? Got news for ya, rat. It appears that there has been no one willing to come to your aid. And since you won't defend yourself...Your trial's been deemed unnecessary. So, we get to move on to the execution."

"That's hardly fair, Captain."

"Don't care. It's not my fault you go around shooting merchants without cause. By the way, for your information, your execution is at dusk. Gives us time to set up the gallows," laughed the Captain, walking down the corridor.

<This is not good. I need to get out of here by dusk or be slain...Only, I do hope that Minotaur doesn't try to get me out. He'll not leave this god-forsaken place alive...I'd feel responsible, owing a debt to his family...> though Vithar, grimly, <I know so little about this group...Does that Minotaur have any family?>

Vithar heard the grating of wood being draged over the rough stone. He glanced up at the window. The sun was directly overhead.

<Noon. I've only got five...six more hours of life left. Oh, but how I wish I was back at Elmharrow, with the one I love...> thougt Vithar, growing worried and dismayed.

[mike_]

Alone with his thoughts, Rom sat cross-legged on the floor whetting his weapons. He was dragging the small (human foot-sized) rock back and forth slowly over the sharpened edge of his axe. Stopping, he lifted it up and inspected it in the afternoon light. Satisfied, he flipped the weapon over and began to work on the other side.

He had about four hours until it was time to go.