315 replies to this topic

[some_weirdGuy]

As they descended back into their bodies a great fatigue befell Zhar. He looked over at the unconcious Shava and felt the slightest pang of almost jealousy, as unlike her he must bare his fatigue unaided by sleep, another luxury which had been taken from him.

((edit: yeah, just saying Zhar doesn't sleep ever, he can't. Can't do alot of stuff like that. But he is still out of action just as much as he would be if he were sleeping))

Sleep was a relaxant and a healer, and so as part of his torment this was denied to him. He did however slump into inactivity, rasping the words "its done" to the others, who had gathered around both.

Rom picked up shava in his great arms. Zhar looking up and in, an in an extremely child-like gesture stretched his arms out and made a clutching gesture with his hands, as a child does when they want a hug from their mother or to be picked up. Rom hesitated but then grabbed the mage and slung him over his shoulder, Zhars head resting on his back. Zhar made no comment, instead doing his best to rest his tired mind.

Rom turned back to the others
"go now?" he asked curtly of Theria
"yeah, lets head back" she replied
"that way" came Zhars voice from over Roms shoulder, as he pointed back the way they came. However from Therias point of view(and the rest of the groups) the only visible part of the mage was his behind, limply hanging from Rom's left shoulder like a rag doll. Shava he cradled in his right arm, almost like a child.

Rom turned and for now lead the way, the others following behind. Illyriel commented on Zhars likeness to a sack of potatoes, slung over Roms should as such, A raspberry sounded from Zhar, as he poked his tongue out in another child-like display, but his face was all but buried on Roms back, and the noise was soon followed by a muffled " pthf, ugh, i think i got some of Roms hair on my tongue, pthf". Illyirel laughed, and most of the others chuckled, although this cut of rather quickly as the memory of Vithar came back to the front of their minds once more, and how inappropriate it suddenly seemed dragged their mood down again...

Vithar was dead.

((we need to atleast stay sad for a while. It seems mean to mourn him for like a split second then suddenly all be back to normal again))

Edited by some_weirdGuy, 19 September 2009 - 12:02 PM.

[{IRS}Athos]

As the energy of the strange battle-rage burned away, Rindar felt suddenly sapped of all energy. Only an effort of will allowed him to unstring his bow and begin cleaning the weapons that Vithar had used. I never told him that I thought he was a friend... but now it's too late.

To distract himself from his sudden and unexpected grief, Rindar turned to thoughts of revenge. After the power that Tom had exhibited, Rindar knew that he had no chance against the Deathknelf if he were to attack head-on and Tom had time to activate his magic. A quick stab will have to do it... or an "accidental" arrow during a battle... or perhaps I could just slip away from the group and find easier targets.

Thoughts of revenge filled him: hot, angry, and a welcome respite from grief.

[Copaman]

Tom trudged along, his face clearly displaying the lack of energy he currently felt. He had unwillingly slumped his head forward at an uncomfortable angle and his facial features slumped as well. Any light in his eyes was gone, and bags of sleeplessness graced his features.

He flipped his hood up and began pondering recent events.

So what if I cremated Vithar? It was a proper send-off and I did say the final prayers. Not to mention it looked really cool. It was my way of trying to be poetic and whatever else. Fuck them for being so negative; I mean, the guy was dead. Who would want their body eaten by the same worms that ate his enemies?

He was a well respected guy. Bits and pieces of memories of Vithar floated through his head. And we would have been so screwed at so many different points without him. His knowledge of the healing arts was a big help.

I should have eulogized or something before torching him.

And seriously, Illyriel needs to realize that his PDAs for Theria are so overly obvious - they're disgusting. Funny how it would be if I was using my name instead of Illyriel's for that last thought. The world is full of hypocrites.

But even as he tried to keep his mind on the past, he couldn't help but drift towards the future.

I need to go home. My people need me and I really don't know how much longer they can deal with Carai. Last thing I want is for the people to rise up on their own and get rid of the four house system. Although when I take the throne, I will dispose of the Deathbringer and Shadowblade traitors. Exile them or what have you.

I wonder what the new city will even look like.

That is where we need to go next.

==

And how am I still awake?

Edited by Copaman, 19 September 2009 - 04:02 PM.

[Vortigern]

((SWG, sorry for deleting your post, but it was miles off what's going on. You're the only person who in fact knows what's going on next, so why not go for it? We had a big long discussion about the whole thing, remember? And I'll hopefully be back online soon, but no promises. I don't have a great deal of faith in my service provider right now.))

[some_weirdGuy]

((just jump right into it? Well ok. I was wondering if maybe some other stuff was suppose to happen first. I mean, we still have to travel back through a jungle to get to the shore. And with the vyre now smart there could be interesting encounters. Well, i guess we can skip that if you want))

They emerged back through the door that lead out of the complex. Back in the thick jungles now insects swarmed around them, probing their flesh with long biting, stinging appendages.
"this is one thing i dont miss about those dungeons back there. Atleast underground the insects were more limited to worms fall from the ceiling" said Tom, rubbing his eyes and swatting at a few infects, before stretching a little
"oh man... i'm exhausted, i really hope we don't run into any trouble any time soon"
"i'm sure Rom could sling you over his shoulder and carry you like Zhar" said Theria with a sly sidelong glace. Tom looked at the uncomfortably placed mage
"tempting, but unfortunately i think i'll have to refuse" Tom replied in mock regret, Rom merely grunted, shaking his head to disturb the bugs perching there.


Aside from the insects and occasional wild animal scampering away in the background, nothing much happened during their long walk back to the shore line. Not a single vyre was encountered the whole time. It seemed somewhat ominous that the whole jungle seemed completely devoid of vyre, despite their obvious abundance beforehand. The jungle parted onto beach, and the group let out a sigh of relief.
Shava stirred in Roms arm, still tired looking, but awake now. Zhar however still looked bone weary, and had sat limp over roms shoulder the whole time, despite it digging into his gut.

Morion was the first however to voice their plight, as they stood basking in the suns warm glow, which almost promised to make them forget the terrible tragedy that had just walked from, realization came crashing in
"so... how are we suppose to get off the isle?" Theria, who had had her eyes closed, facing upwards at the sun, looked over at morion.
"hey yeah, our boat fled shortly after dropping us off... how did we plan to get back?" said Illyriel, also looking to Theria.
"i... well we could... honestly i have no idea how we can get off the isle" resignation in her voice.

a collective sigh came from the group, the resignation in Theria's voice was echod by the actions played out. Tom sat hunched, head on one knee, the other leg stretched. Rindar sat back a bit, his hand combing through his hair. Illyriel stood, looking around. Rom also sat, taking Zhar from his shoulder to lay slumped over a nearby rock.
"its ok, we'll think of something" said the very tired sounding Shava, leaning against the same rock. Bazric looked over at Shava, giving a barely convincing smile,
"aye, but that doesn't mean we're gonna like it. Fer example swimming back, while something, is certainly not desirable..."

They sat around for a bit. So far the best plan they had, which none of them were too fond of, was creating a raft and using that to get back to the mainland.
"can't you just... you know" said Morion to Zhar, making an obscure hand gesture which was meant to signify magic
"i mean, you do that sort of stuff all the time" The look Zhar gave him was direct, a kind of 'do i really have to tell you the answer?'
"I have not been this vulnerable in decades. Translocation takes alot of energy. I do not have strength to translacate all of you. I doubt i would even be able to translocate myself. Infact no, i cannot. Unless one of you is willing to give their life to restore my power, then no, i cannot and will not be able to for a while."

They sat around a bit more, but still no better plan had came to fruitation. Shava sat, staring back over at a rockface down the beach a bit
"strange... look at all the black birds. I don't think i saw any crows on the whole isle till now."
Zhar merely grunted, face down
"i wonder what the carrion birds are so interested in"
Suddenly a spark of memory fired in Zhars mind
"what side of the isle are we on?"
"what does it matter?"
"Just tell me what side!"
"south... no wait, east. South easterly" Said Bazric, looking up at the sun, now obscured by clouds, for bearings.
"Is there a rockface nearby, a lagoon behind it?"
"yeah... over where i'm looking. The birds are around that area" said Shava
"my god... Its still here" said Zhar "someone, flip me over so i can see!" Bazric shoved Zhar over so his was lying on his back, bent over the rock.
From his upsidedown view he saw the rockface, with a few crows circling over the top before disappearing out of view. On the side of the cliff face, very small, stood the ancient skeleton of an old tree. It must have been struck by lightning or something, long ago, for it was still blackend and twisted, although looking someone old and whitewashed now
"thats the tree" rasped Zhar
"whats the tree? what are you talking about?" said illyriel, overhearing the commotion and walking over
"I have a solution to our transport problem" said Zhar, a grin coming onto his face and something in his voice
"what... do you know a way we can get off the isle?" said Theria, coming over, Tom at her side
"Aye! we'll take my ship! The Bloody Mary" Said Zhar, Breaking fulling into a pirate voice (if not a somewhat odd, and less than modern one at that)

((ok, admittedly this is not the best place to stop. But i didn't want to make a massively huge post, which unfortunately it already has turned out to be, so that seems like a good point to stop. The Bloody Mary is a legendary ghost ship type thing, an old legend. Its up to you weather you want your person to have heard of it or not. They might have heard it while on one of the various ships we've been on, maybe the crew was telling the old tale of the bloody mary. Or your person heard it at another time. Or not.

So we can head over to the small lagoon behind the cliff face. If no one else posts, or even if they do, i'll come later and do some more, but right now i'll leave it there. I'll tell the legend of the bloody mary, and its captain, and then if we haven't already, then we'll go over, get the ship, and head out off the isle. Maybe i should make the legend of the Bloody Mary its own little topic, what do you think vort?))

Edited by some_weirdGuy, 10 October 2009 - 06:09 AM.

[Copaman]

Tom simply stared at Zhar.

"What is wrong..." he stopped, realizing that the answer would probably be something he didn't want to know. "Just get us to this boat. I have places to go and peoples to save."

[{IRS}Athos]

"Or destroy," muttered Rindar, taking care to be just within Tom's earshot. Let's see if he'll rise to the bait...

[Copaman]

Tom heard Rindar and decided not to make a scene. Instead, he got about as close to Rindar as he could and whispered in the elf's ear.

"I'm just going to go ahead and guess that you're trying to provoke me. I'm also going to guess that you have no idea what it's like to lead an army. Let alone be the king commanding said army. Now. When we get back, I need to take care of some business involving a false king on my throne. You can help if you like, but gods help you if you try to get in my way. I kill people in quick, relatively painless ways. I can't say the same for the people marching under my banner."

As Rindar tensed up, Tom took a step back and rested his hands on his hilts - he had come to expect some kind of attack by the elf at this point. Without a word, Tom continued to back away.

[{IRS}Athos]

"Your throne, eh?" said Rindar with a cynical curl of his lip. "Sure, I'll accept your offer and march under your banner. Maybe my arrows will even drink their fill of your kinfolk's blood as you initiate a civil war that will doubtless kill thousands of innocents. A few more Deathknelf won't be missed in the carnage." Rindar's eyes grew colder as he went on. "But once I've started, you'll have to kill me to stop me." Rindar smiled grimly. "And by the time that happens, you may even find that hard to do."

[mike_]

Morion drew his broadsword in a lightning-fast motion and stepped between the pair of Elves. A small ball of writing flames coalesced in his left hand, which happened to be facing Tom, with the black-bladed sword-blade turned towards Rindar. Rom exhaled in surprise and brought his great axe to bear, standing near to the trio.

Morion glared at each would-be combatant in turn, then shouted, "Gods damn it all! What the hooch is wrong with the two of you?" Tom had drawn his daggers and was halfway between an outright offensive position and a wary crouch. Rindar hadn't moved, but instead stared his own daggers at the once-again interferer. Morion continued undaunted, "After all that hell we just went through, you little turds are still obsessed with cutting the others' throat?" Tom made to protest, but Morion waved him away. Trails of flame flowed where his hand moved, following it in the air. "You ought to know by now, boy, that I don't give a shite about you and your petty, dead country. Now unless you want me to set every cell of fat and sugar in your striped body alight in flame, I strongly suggest you put those pigsticks away." Tom didn't move, so Morion added, "Or, kill me. Add yet another innocent soul you've taken to your dreams." The Deathknelve visibly shuddered, but his steel-cold gaze never faltered.


((OOC EDIT: Yeah, I'm getting tired of this constant argument just saying. And Morion knows a little bit of pyromancy - enough to fill the above threat and conjure a 'little ball of sunshine', a not-very-destructive but very visible fireball. Just saying ))

[Copaman]

"You wait, Morion. The time of men is over. My army will march through Shadowfang Keep and return it to the right hands. And then as a race, we will be through with the degradation of our kind. Hell's own fury won't be able to stop the wrath we will bring on those who insult us."

Tom looked across Morion's figure to Rindar.

"And you. I'll save you for later. We still have to settle this score."

His fury building, he began to tremble slightly. As his breathing sped up, a blue aura began to surround him - already exhausted by the fight with the mother drake, Tom was unable to keep up with the fire burning inside him.

Before he collapsed, he whispered, "I can't keep this up." And then he dropped like a stone.

[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar glanced down at Tom's inert form, then up at Morion. "I'm highly tempted to stab both of you," he snapped. "Tell me, Morion, have you ever experienced the feeling of having scores of loved ones torn from you in one instant?" His fingers strayed to the jeweled hilt of the sword that had once belonged to the Deathknelf he had slain. "If you haven't, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

[mike_]

Morion's grey eyes turned towards Rindar's with a burning, feverish energy in them. A violet shade of red was almost visible in them, though it might have been the light. He coldly replied, "Yes. Time and again. Tell me, young Elf; have you ever been amongst the dead on the killing fields? In the far South and East, a man with but a sword may there find reputation and glory and command. I was that man. I found what it is that motivates men to go beyond themselves; and what might stop them in their tracks." He glanced at his sword, the obsidian-dark blade looking terribly out-of-place in the bright sunlight. He continued, "And I learned there, too, what it is like to command such men. What it is to lose them. To advance so far in the press, ahead of the shieldwall and the wedge, to turn and look that there is not a soul alive behind you. That all your friends, your petty foes amongst the ranks, have fallen and you were left to live."

Morion turned away to look at Tom, who would not even glance at the face of the man in black. He suddenly convulsed and hit the ground; Theria and some of the others moved in to try to find what had happened to Tom. Morion sheathed his sword and walked away in silence, stepping into Rom's shadow.

The episode of violence was over; but the group was more the worse for the wear.

Edited by mike_, 15 October 2009 - 02:41 AM.
continuity fail

[some_weirdGuy]

((good to see you posting again mike))

"Much as i love these three way threatenings and boasting sessions on whose the most screwed in life, i'd say not only do i beat you all in that regard, but you also are wasting time." said Zhar, his white clouded eyes taking in each face in turn, the joints clicking in his fingers as he bunched them into a fist and back again, wriggling his fingers as he did so in much the same way as someone impatiently taps a desk. Added to this the tapping foot and it was obvious Zhar was keen to be under way.
"None of us cares for your little, squabbles, and we can all agree leaving the isle is preferable to staying put." he stood up, a little tipsily from his weariness but steadying himself
"Now ye will shut yer yaps or i'll be leavin' ye to rot on this stinking rock. You are ta be me guests aboard me fair lady, and she don't take kindly to petty squabbling" his voice had once again taken on that archaic pirate accent, and he spoke as if rousing on a rowdy crew.
"Come now, it's been a long time and aye yearn ta be reunited with me ship" and he started wearily marching forward, the group eventually trailing behind, as they made their way down the beach to the cove, the black birds still circling overhead.

Edited by some_weirdGuy, 15 October 2009 - 05:11 AM.

[some_weirdGuy]

They made their way down, in relative silence. The crystal clear waters glistened in azure beauty as they curved into the deep lagoon. The tide was down so in some areas the water was but a tiny trickle caressing the sands gritty surface.
The scene was beautiful, with the exception of the scowling rockface, with the dark carrion birds flying around it, litting and nesting on little ledges on the cliff and such. But the group wasn't focused on that.

"Wheres the boat? you said there was a ship here" said Rindar
"this is what we get for listening to the mad man..." muttered Morion
"I should have guessed right away, especially when he claimed it was the Bloody Mary. Thats just an old sea tale" he continued, shaking his head
"oh really now?" said Zhar, his voice dripping venom "are you really all dumber then birds?"
"oi!..." began Morion, but then followed the gaze of the others as they looked up the rock face where the birds flocked.

In the side of the cliff it stood. It looked more like a fossil then a ship. It appeared to be half constructed from sun bleached bones. the air of decay surroundings it spoke of great age, it was a gruesome wreck hanging about the lagoon, sneering down at its beauty as if it was an insult to the ship. Its surprising how inanimate objects can take on emotion like that. It appeared to have many of the same twisted qualities as Zhar himself.

"How on earth did it even get up there? it looks like its part of the cliff face" said Illyriel. This was true, the ship was indeed sunken into the cliff face, hanging meters above the waterline.
"we must go up if i am to dislodge it"
"but it couldn't possibly float, its a derelict pile of wreckage!"
"watch yer mouth around me lady!" snarled Zhar
"but..." began illyriel
"she is no ordinary ship, and once i get up there i can make her work just as she did in the old days" he hand slid to the hilt of the Kriss, staying there
"lets move" and he start off.
The others looked at each other for a bit, then again followed.
"a dark aura hovers over that twisted wreck" whispered Bazric
"its freaky. Like some sort of horrid sea monster" replied shava in an equally hushed voice. She was right. The ship was a horrific construction. Skeletally crafted. Much of the ship was constructed from what looks to be the bones of great sea monsters. Other parts were also made of bones. Ancient fossils and rotting bleached barnacle covered wood. Its mast stood like a jagged toothpick on an angle, much of the rest of the ship in similar disrepair.

And all this was what was seen from a distance. No doubt other horrors awaited upon closer inspection.

The birds circled overhead, their beady dead eyes watching the newcomers make their way towards their nest.

Edited by some_weirdGuy, 17 October 2009 - 10:37 AM.

[Vortigern]

Zhar flexed his fingers, grinning widely for the first time since before the stone circle. Theria could not help but share his smile; there was something infectious about Zhar's enthusiasm for his life, despicable though many of his actions were. Cyan light began to coalesce around the mage's fingertips, slipping and shifting in the midday sun, reflecting and refracting the intricate detail of the magic being wrought. The ghastly ship began to tear itself away from the cliff face, revealing ever more of the gruesome and gory nature of the vessel Zhar had chosen to spend his earlier years aboard. Though Theria could understand his desire for solitude and a life of freedom upon the high seas, she did wonder about the nature of his ship.

The prow peeled away from the rocks, showing the carving that stood thereupon: a single colossal lump of bone had been hacked and honed into the shape of a snake's head, or maybe a dragon. Zhar noticed Theria staring at it.

"It's a bone from one of the kraken. When we took it out of the monster's back it was more than twelve feet thick and thirty feet long." He smiled, reminiscing. "We got a lot of repairs out of that beast."

"There's no such thing as kraken," murmured Tom, clearly still somewhat taken aback by the horrific vessel unfolding before them.

"No?" countered Zhar. "Maybe we should head out to sea and you can tell them that." Even through the dark swirls of his face, Theria could see Tom go slightly pale. Understandable, she thought. His opinion of the world has just had to change somewhat drastically. "I suppose you don't believe in dragons either?" Tom opened his mouth to reply but Zhar beat him to it. "There we go," he announced. "Freed from her stony prison." With a sigh he let the magic go and the ship dropped like a stone, crashing into the bay below and sending plumes of spray up in all directions. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

Once aboard the ship, Zhar's manner again reverted to the swashbuckling, piratical style he had adopted upon noticing the whereabouts of his former home.

"Hoist the mainsail!" he shouted. "Batten down the hatches and climb the rigging, ye scurvy landlubbers!" He cackled gleefully, clearly enjoying himself immensely. The ship immediately began to attend to his orders, a patchwork sail unfolding from the mast and flapping down to settle in the breeze.

"What's that sail made of?" enquired Morion, stepping up behind Zhar at the wheel.

"Human skin," announced Zhar, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "Maybe a couple of elves and dwarves in there too, I can't remember." Morion grimaced and turned away, heading below decks to where things were hopefully less unnecessarily gory. "Hold firm, me buckos!" shouted Zhar. "Four days clean sailing and we'll be ashore afore ye know it!"

"I thought you were all exhausted?" wondered Theria, now the only one remaining on deck with Zhar. For some reason the movements of this horrific ghost ship didn't bother her at all.

"Aye, that's right," agreed Zhar. "But this beauty's a whole work of magic in herself, y'see. She answers to me voice with not a drop of me vitals to waste." He chuckled to himself again, something he had done about once a minute since coming aboard. "Took it right out o' me to put her together, ye know." Theria nodded, unsurprised. By this stage she had more than a fair idea of how Zhar's magic worked, and quite what effect it had on him.

The Bloody Mary left the bay, heading south.

"Here's to heading home, an' peace an' quiet," offered Zhar. Theria smiled, agreeing fervently. "Let's just hope nothing's rotten in the land of Arsencia."




((Thus ends Chapter 2, with a little round-off from me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a seriously long post to kick off Chapter 3. Huzzah and hurrah!))