NSWRPF Archive The Ultimate Fantasy Community (A Flagship RPG - Open to All)

OOC: Did anyone ever mention what the island was called?

IC: Yavinelf, boat off south-west coast

Leaving Debgate below decks to tend to the druid, Yavinelf climbed onto the deck, to look over the burgeoning sea.

He carried his razor-tipped Harpoon of the Depths, and now brought it up with him whenever he came topside.
Back home, boats were unmanned affairs; you boarded one heading towards a set destination and waited, and in due course you reached the other end.
You were fragged if you fell overboard though, as there was little chance of getting back on board.

Here though, between pirates and sea monsters, you needed to be armed at all times.
Frag?s sake.
The Harpoon met all problems head on, holding a filthy privateer at bay till the more experienced crew could pile in, or jabbing the business end into the huge moist eye of a Giant Kraken.

He looked round as the first mate strolled up, a hairy red-haired human with a shaggy beard.
?Hail.? The man said.

?Hail.?

?We should be arriving soon enough, Ranger. Land was spotted a few moments ago." Yavinelf frowned as the Mate grasped for a nearby piece of netting. "In fact...?

CRASH!!

Sprawled along the ship?s rail, the ranger didn?t know what was happening, but decided Red-beard was being way too unbothered by half.
As the old adage went, ? If you can keep your head, when all around you have lost theirs, then you probably have not understood the seriousness of the situation.?

?We appear to have struck something.? He supplied.

?Not just something, my pointy-eared friend.? Redbeard joined him at the rail.and waved a hand over the side. ?Callanthorith.?

Following the gesture, the Rescue Ranger could now see that the endless ocean had been replaced by the sandy beach upon which they had run aground, and though to the foront and right it came up against impossibly steep white cliffs topped by a grassy overhang, to the left the golden sand segued onto a rolling green vista.

?In Tunare?s name.? Yavinelf breathed, invoking his deity. ?You people want to invest in an anchor.?

?Anchor?? The seaman furrowed his eyebrows, the idea foreign to him.

?Yeah, heavy steel weight on a chain. Anchors your ship into one spot close to a beach.?

?Interesting idea. I shall mention it to the captain.?

?Yeah, you do that.? The Surefall Paramedics ranger crossed to the dark hole of a hatch through which he had come, and yelled down to his companions to start packing, then went up steps to the fore?deck, where he could have a better view around the ship.
They were in a sheltered bay with high clifs on both sides of the beach area that curved round to the right and left off the vessel. Behind, obviously, open sea.
Several mountain peaks were visible atop the cliffs to the left.

?Guess we?re not in the Karanas anymore, Toto.? He said to himself, looking at what could be their new home if they couldn?t find a way home.

Tag: no-one

 

Ronan
The Bear's Rest, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Even after Maximus' attempt toalm down the crazed drunkards within the old tavern, and even after Ronan's assist in the matter, the patrons continued with their mayhem. Ronan had to send another powerful back-hand to the jaw of a young man, knocking him into another.

From the corner of his eye, Ronan spotted a blink of light headed at his torso. Turning to face it, he noticed that it was infact someone weilding a glass shank, ready to use it against him. Ronan swung the flat of his blade, down, knocking the shard astray. A mule kick would be sent at the thin man's chest, slamming him back-first into a wall. The resistance was starting to become overwhelming.

Suddenly, a streak of blood ran across Ronan's face. It definatley wasn't his. He wiped it away with his gloved hand and looked in the general direction from which it came. the large lizard/human hybrid had just finished decapitating the last of several victims.

"What is your business in Manrenthain?" demanded Maximus.

"Business, Maximus? The man just slaughtered half of the men in here! He should be tried. Or it. No wait. What am I saying? He saved our lives.", contimplated Ronan, speaking to both Maximus and himself.

He looked over at the strange but couragous creature, "What is you business here?"

Tag: All at the Rest..

 

IC: Mezzanie Ti
Location: Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Mezzanie pulled herself off the stone floor, rubbing her head. She must have... fell... somehow. The Priestess tried to remember what just happened. She was walking... to her room. And she went past Mother Superior's room. She was going to knock on it, just to wake the woman up.... to give her a little taste of her own medicine. But.... something happened.

And then she found herself here. Mezzanie looked around, trying to figure out where exactly here was. Turned out she was still by Mother Superior's room. How stange. She felt.... sick almost. Almost as though she had the chills.... both physically and mentally.

The woman gave a grunt as she stood up, brushing off her traveling robes. She couldn't believe she was still wearing that uncomfortable thing. She really needed to change. The priestess looked up and down the halls. Now, she knew she wasn't narcoleptic. And she knew she was still tired, but she had been in worse straights before. The woman went through her mental checklist, trying to think of any reason why she would have hit the floor like that.

And came up suprisingly short...

What really had happened here?

The only possible explanation was.... but no.... it couldn't. Not here.

Mezzanie looked towards Mother Superior's door. To go in would be suicidal. No priestess had ever burst into Mother Superior's chambers. But if there was evil present.....

No.

Evil could not have penetrated into such a Holy Place. It was unheard of in all the history of the Order.

The weary priestess went down the hall, making her way back to her room. She had just... stayed up for too long. This is all what she got for being forced to do dishes after three days of travel. Hallucinations and chills. She just needed some sleep. When she woke up, which hopefully would still be for a while, she would feel right as rain oncemore.

After what seemed like hours, she found her way to the dormatories and creaked open the wooden door leading into her room. There in front of her, ah such a sweet sight, was her bed. It was supposed to be humble, as Priestesses of her Order were not to be attached to material things. But like all the priestesses, she kept a small supply of contraband hidden in her room. She pulled out a down blanket she had bought on one of her travels to the fairy lands, and set it down over her bed.

It had been far, far too long.

The woman undressed and changed into her sleeping gown, then slid into bed.

Oh yes. That was good.

No sooner had Mezzanie closed her eyes was she fast asleep.

Heavens knew she had earned it.

TAG: Myself, LSA

 

OOC: So sorry LSA and Hitokiri! Darth RL strikes agian...I will post tomorrow sometime, I promise

 

Lyra Nall- Necromancer
Aveena, Free Lands

As the sun set, Lyra's eyes opened. It was time for her to begin her work. She pulled her long ebony hair back into a loose ponytail. After a long yawn, Lyra put on her dark, cherrywood colored bandolier made of the strongest leather. It streached from her right shoulder, between her breasts, and down to her left hip. As she tightened the strap at her hip, she checked all seven bells to make sure they were secured in their silent positions. This would prevent the bells from speakin on their own.

A barmaid entered the room with a plate full of food. She was terified of the Necromancer. Without a sound, the blonde girl sat Lyra's dinner on the wooden dresser, then left in a hurry. A small sigh escaped Lyra's lips. It didn't matter what she did, people would always be afraid of her. Death scared people, but someone who had been in and out of death all their lives terrified them. It didn't matter that Lyra was part of the Charter of Life, she still went into death on a regular basis, and the made her a nightmare to some people.

A breeze from the salty sea blew into her window, carring charter marks and the sent of the dead. She was going to have to skip dinner and get straight to work before whatever brought the dead to this town awoke them once again. Without a second thought, Lyra grabbed her bag of bamboo and her sword and headed out into the moonlight of the night. The silver light of the full moon made the charter marks on Lyra's sword sparkle to life, as well as the large charter mark on the left side of her face. It was a mark which was usually transparent.

After marching through the water of the man made moat once again, Lyra sat down on the soft, black grave dirt in the middle, her legs crossed and her lips quietly chanting a few names of the charters. The wind blew again, this time it was a dry, salty scent. The dead were getting further into death. It was a good sign.

Pulling one of the bamboo sticks out, Lyra started to carve a windflute. This would close the easier passage from death into life which had been created here. The task was going to be hard to finnish before the moon went down, but Lyra was sure she could do it.

*****

Charter Marks filled the sky around her as the wind gently blew through the finnished windflutes. There were seven in all, each one with the tone of the seven bells which lay across Lyra's chest. The moon was now down and the sky began to turn pink.

"F'larian! F'lorian! Echnoch and Wvoot!" Lyra called out, large charter marks forming around each flute. She had called formed protective diamonds from the powers of the Northern, Southern, Eastern and Western powers. It was an old Charter trick which was very hard to acheive, but after years of doing so, it was second nature to Lyra.

The people in the town where nestled into bed. Only a few people could be seen. The fishermen heading out to sea, the drunkard stumbling towards home, and the farmer leading his mule towards the fields. All had noticed the lack of dead in their town, but non had noticed Lyra. A normality in Lyra's line of work.

Quietly, Lyra headed back towards her home located in a secret place just outside the City of Man, her bells and sword the only baggage that she carried. It would be a days walk to where she had left her horse and food. From there it would be a three day ride to the City of Men. She would stop there for food and drink. There was a man intown who told her of places that required her skills. Lyra would check with the old man, then head on home if she didn't have any dead to send back to the cold waters of death.

The sun was over the eastern hills, and the light of day warmed her pale skin, but not her heart. She hated being alone. Ever since she had taken over her family's line of work and left the small village she had been raised by, Lyra had been on her own. A warm tear dropped from her emerald eyes and ran down her rosy cheeks. Before it could drop from her beautiful face, Lyra whiped it off and released her

 

IC: Yavinelf, (Surefall Paramedics),, Cirranthoril


The trio set up camp in a damp cave below the cliffs, but within sight of the ?parked? scow. They watched the crew put their wares out on trestle tables for the islanders to come out and peruse.
Thus far, no-one had.

Standing at the mouth of the cave, Yavinelf decided he had enough of watching them, and it was time to do the double duty of learning about their surroundings, and getting the druid off his backside.

He turned, shaking sand from the outside of his boots, and clumped inside to the dark rear of the cave.

?Hey, ?Scout. Time to check the area.?

Debgate, standing head and shoulders above him, moved to block his progress, glaring down between platinum blonde bangs. His head was level with her chest, which distended, in a nice way, her black goblin-skin top.
?He?s too weak.?

?He is the team scout. It is in his name.?

?And you?re the team ranger. Go range!?

The shorter half-elf glared back up at the Barbarian. She was like his sister, despite their different species.

?I?m sorry, Deb'. It?s time.?

---

[b]IC: Yavscout,[/b], [i]Cirranthoril beach, G-54[/i]

The fey druid trudged across the sand, his green boots slip-sliding on the loose grains, heading for firmer ground away from the shoreline.
The ranger had galvanised him into activity by pulling out the roll of previous rescues from the waterproof pouch that each member had.

Yavinelf had gone down the list, picking out relevant activities that Yavscout had engaged in, ie. Those involving physical rather than magical assistance.

Tose were few and far between, but then the team?s Paramedic Scout had been involved in a [i]lot[/i] of rescues, so there was plenty to choose from, Melee Rescues, literally helping the casualty to fight off their particular threat, to full-scale E.R.M. or Elongated Rescue Missions that involved medding up, memorising specialised spells, teleporting or running at high speed across continents, before dealing with the trouble in the danger zone. Those were the most exciting and the most dangerous.

Now though, his abilities were severely curtailed. If things went pear shaped, he couldn?t run away and outpace his opponent, and for a pure elf back on Antonica, going toe-to-toe with anything even slightly stronger or tougher, the result was usually one dead elf..

He rounded two huge boulders that must have dropped down the cliff years ago, judging from the way they were weathered.
Once out of sight of the beach, he climbed up into the scrawny white grasses and lay on his back, getting his breath, then starting some jerky exercises.

Even if he couldn?t tone himself up right then and there, the resulting adrenalin might come in useful if the local fauna took offense to his presence.

His elf scimitar rattled faintly at his hip as he struggled through sit-ups, pointy ears straining for early signs of approach.
Arms crossed over his own chest, he could feel his stomach muscles knotting around the twentieth sit-up, and he smiled faintly to himself.

[b]Tag: no-one[/b]

 

GM Approved


Name: Gildor
Species (Lifeform): Dragon (Red, Yellow eyes, fire breathing)
Gender: Male
Age: 957
Faction (Allegiance): Neutral, but tends to side with good guys
Home: Mountains
Place of Birth: Mountains



Name: Larimus
Species (Lifeform): Burrower (About two feet tall and furry all over. They resemble gophers with clothes. Despite their size, they're master builders)
Gender: Male
Age: 83
Faction (Allegiance): His own
Home: Burrowburg
Place of Birth: Danlun

 

GM approved!

Name: Winston

Species (Lifeform): Was human, now a zombie (not a bad zombie, and he hasn't visited the Dark Realm. He's just trying to carry on as normal. When the urge to feat on brains does grip him, he usually finds some animal or other, not a human). He's also a necromancer.

Gender: Male

Age: He died when he was 35, poisoned by a rival magician. That was fifty years ago- when asked, he gives his age as 'around eighty'.

Faction (Allegiance): Neutral

Appearance: Gray skin, short brownish-black hair, variety of stitches. Hunched over apologetically, but at full height he's quite tall. Wears slightly ragged, dusty clothing that he replaces every five or so years, according to fashion and whim.

Home: Nomadic, currently in Callanthorith

Place of Birth: Quandanlore

 

OOC: I'm back. RL slowed me down.

Voren'kaa
The Bear's Rest

The last sinner fell to the scimitar, the silver blade easily decapitating the drunkard, the gruesome trophy falling at Voren'kaa's feet. The lizardman hissed, and sheathed his weapon, glancing around and reflecting on the sorry state of affairs. How sad that these Men beings should come to this. They drank poison-alcohol and revelled in the madness that inevitably resulted. How terribly tragic. He would pray for the souls that had been lost this day.

He watched impassively as the Knights in the room recovered themselves. They were the only ones left standing, along with the lizardman. Scores of patrons lay sprawled across the bloody floor. Some were unconscious, knocked out by strong punches from the Knights. Others were clearly dead, and Voren'kaa alone was responsible for that. He expected that thanks would be offered to him, though he did not desire it. He had merely been in the right place at the right time, and praise be to the gods for that. Why the soldiers had not used their own swords puzzled him, but he could only assume that they were not skilled enough to use them, or were perhaps unable to unsheathe them during the chaos.

One of the Knights approached, and said something. Voren'kaa was only able to catch fragments such as 'yorbiznessin' and 'rennthayne', and even those he could not understand. The tongue of these people was almost completely alien to him. The other Knight then said something even more complicated and foreign, though the final words seemed to be addressed to the lizardman. Voren'kaa hesitated, and became acutely aware that his heart was pounding beneath his scaled chest. What they want from him? What were they asking? His eyes fell on the side exit that was placed temptingly nearby at the rear of the bar. Would he have to run? Having saved these Knights' lives?

There was a long silence, as he struggled to think of what to do next, and resorted to simple mimicry, attempting to echo some of the sounds they made.

"biznesss heer," he tried, sweat gathering on his yellow-brown forearms. "manren...manrenn...rennthayne.."

He gave up and stopped, and without another word, spun on his heel and shot towards the side-exit, darting through the door and into the alleyway, desperately looking for a place to run to.

Tag: All at the Bear's Rest

 

LightSide_Apprentice

Night (Midnight)

Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

The woman returned to her inner chambers, through the great wooden door, which was locked shut when she arrived. Inside, she met emptiness. She plumped onto her chair with a sigh and set her self to sorting through the next day's schedule of events, making amendments and provisions for certain wandering priestesses that had too much time and freedom.

She did not notice the creature that hung just outside her door, as securely attached to the roof as a spider to a web. She did not see the other intruder, which clung to the ceiling, staring down upon her with patience to rival that of the long years that came and went in the land, like so many empires and kingdoms, and cities, and peoples.

Her silent scream, as the creature fell upon her from the ceiling, clutching her throat to render useless her pitiful attempt to gasp for precious oxygen within the air, as her life was taken from her, was unnoticed by those elsewhere within the abbey. Her eyes glazed and her blood poured freely into her captor's greedy jaws. Nigathlorn 'Black' Spiders were deadly creatures, and this one was no exception in that regard.

A web was spun about the Mother Superior, sticky and firm. She was wrapped tightly, and carried through the open window, into the night. And, when the windows were closed, and morning finally came, no trace of her remained, but for her scrawled hand on incomplete parchments.


Imperial_Hammer

Twilight (Before Dawn)

Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Birds chirped outside, their sweet song carried through the windows and walls, it seemed, and into Mezzanie's ears as she woke. It seemed such a peaceful morning, the sun soon to rise. Were it not for the urgent shouts and stamping boots outside her dorm, Mezzanie might have slept some more.

When she finally opened her door to search for the source of the disturbance she was met with a flurry of activity within the corridor. There were men within the abbey! Of all of the things to wake up to! And, they were not even priests. No, these men wore swords at their sides, some carried spears, and others short blades. They moved about with such haste and order that they could be nothing else but a division of the Knights of Manrenthain, perhaps an elite or emergency unit or guard.

There was no sign of the Mother Superior, but Mezzanie knew only too well that the woman would never allow such a thing within Wesrah'das Abbey, not as long as she lived! And then, as that thought came to her, and Mezzanie recalled the chill from the night previous, she began to tremble. She did not have to see to know. The Mother Superior was gone.


YoungAngus, -Jeb-, KOTORFan8, Winged_Jedi

Twilight (Before Nightfall)

Bear's Rest, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Maximus questioned the lizardman in the midst of the carnage that lay about them. So, too, did Ronan, reinforcing the words of his comrade as they demanded to know what business the stranger had within Manrenthain. For a time, there was only silence, but not for very long.

As Voren'kaa struggled to think of what to do next, the Knights saw that he resorted to simple mimicry, attempting to echo some of the sounds they made. Though, perhaps, they did not realise what it was that they saw, or that their reaction to their observations was a cause of discomfort, or an implied thread. For Voren'kaa ceased his attempt to communicate with them and fled.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and shot towards the Rest's side-exit, darting through the door and into the alleyway, desperately looking for a place to run to. He caught sight of the open street that awaited him, promising a chance at freedom, and the short wall behind him, an obstacle to that same li

 

IC: Yavscout, scrubland near beach area, G-54

The young elf took pleasure in the feeling of muscles generating under his stomach.
While he could never be as strong and as tough as a warrior, he took solace in the idea that exercising for muscles gave shape to the body.

He stood up, taking a careful look around, and extended what senses he had left to determine if he was alone, and only then, put his scimitar aside to engage in more strenuous callistenics.

Yavscout sat back down, facing the sandy beach, and the turbulent grey sea beyond.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, and clutching them tight with his hands, he rolled back and sat back up a few times, trusting that this was re-aligning his spine.
Then, keeping chin on chest, he repeated the manoeuvre, throwing both arms out in a triangle-shape to the rest of his body, and in this manner practised backward breakfalls from the ground.
He gradyually worked his way from doing them from a squat to doing them from standing up, then taking his sword to level ground, started tucking his head and doing forward breakfalls.

After thirty minutes of this rigourous exercise, he could feel muscles glowing under his skin, and felt almost like a half-elf, how Yavinelf must feel in the normal course of events.
He felt he could be of some use to the world, even if he couldn?t confer a coherent stream of healing power onto an injured party like in the old days.

He narrowed his eyes, taking in the vista inland. The rolling plains of waving green grass, and beyond, forests.

He was the Scout. He was Surefall Paramedics.

Tag: no-one

 

OOC: I wouldn't mind having Winston hanging around just outside the City of Men, please. An introduction'd be nice so I know more or less what to do from there.

 

IC: Yavscout , G-54

In the old days he had Spirit of Wolf. Known colloquially as SOW, it was a widely known and used magical spell that gave the recipient the power to run at almost twice their normal speed, and without losing any stamina or strength.

It wasn?t a SOW-enhanced sprint, but he?d heard the scream, and it would have to do.

Like Eskimoes have seventeen different words for snow, experienced rescue agents had the same for a scream.
He?d been planning to investigate the top of the cliffs for a better look at the surrounding countryside, and horizon, when the woman?s scream ? or someone who's breeches needed letting out ? had floated across the long grass stalks of the field, and he had taken off.

Instinct. Triangulate and respond. All other priorities rescinded.

He crashed through the sward like a mad thing and entered a thick gathering of trees,
And slowed to view the scene ahead.

On the left, backed against a waist-high rock was a female human ? notch one for scream recognition ? with luscious brown hair plaited into tresses, a short puff-sleeved dress tight around her torso and waist with some kind of sleeveless waistcoat and a full skirt that blossomed out of her hips and down to the ground in a layers of blue and white.

Yavscout followed procedure on approach, casting a healing spell on her, then firing a snare spell towards the creature, to hold it in place.
Or at least, he went through the motions, cos it never hurt to try. Then segueing smoothly into Plan B, he skidded across loose stones in front of her and drew his scimitar as he faced down the small arachnid.

Now that he focussed on it, he could see it was a glossy black exo-skeleton on eight legs, with several little eyes at the front over sharp mandibles, and the whole thing probably came up to his knee if he was ever unwise enough to stand that close to the fragger.

"Well its about time." She announced from behind him in a less than grateful tone. ?Aren?t you a little short for a Knight of Manrenthain??

"I'm Yavscout, and I'm here to rescue you. Just to clarify, you are in danger and this thing is trying to kill you??

?What do you want? A signed waiver? Kill it!?

"Just checking. Sheez." Crouching into a bit of a combat stance, the elf placed his scimitar ahead of himself and pointed the tip of the blade towards the spiderling. ?En garde, slitch.?

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Nombre, Derk
Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith

As the rich man took a seat, the elf and his human counterpart both settled into a more relaxed possition. Derk would wait untill the man left, and they would tail him. Once they were clear of any prying eyes, they would make their move.

Were it up to Nombre, they would flee the city that instant, and never return. But it wasn't up to him.

It was up to Derk, and his way of things were strange. They would leave, but not immediatly. No. First, they would stop in every church they passed, and drop a few coins in the coffer. And not any little coins either. If they came across an orphanage, they would deposit twice the money. And, finally, assuming they got that far, they would stop into a local stable and buy fresh horses, as they'd already sold the two they had previously owned. From there, they would ride of a less used Inn, and buy a room for a night or two.

Then, and only then, would they flee the city. Of course, they wouldn't be gone long. No, that wasn't his style. They would hit another city, then another, and eventually return to Quandalore and repeat the process.

It wasn't a great life, but it was a life.

The two watched the man as he drank and sat and talked and drank. Nombre drummed his black fingernails upon the table top, and Derk entertained himself by spinning his simple ring upon the table like a coin.

And they would wait.

Tag: LSA

 

Dark-Enigma, Livi-Wan

Earlier ...

T'aren and Ziphara neared the tavern. They had heard the noise from that part of the city and approached when T'aren spotted activity outside. He recognised his fellow Knight, Edward Douglas, and commanded Ziphara to walk towards him. As they neared the front of the bar, Ziphara stopped and T'aren sat on her back, waiting and smiling.

He noticed the direction Edward was headed and knew the drunkard was to be taken to a cell within the city prison. As he watched the Knight continue down the street, he noticed another man, also on horseback, only coming from an adjacent street, as if from the marketplace. T'aren did not recognise the odd style of clothing that the man wore.

Firis was dressed far more simply than either of the two Knights, wearing white, appearing as bright as a beacon in the hours of the early evening, and was eating his self-prepared sandwich as he rode into the main street. "Hail, friend. What seems to be the trouble?" he asked, as he reined in beside Edward.

"No problem, just hauling off this troublemaker to the dungeon," Edward said as he kept walking. "It's of no concern to you, but welcome to Manrenthain none the less." He took a chance with the end there, he didn't know this man was a foreigner, but he sure didn't look familiar.

Now ...

Night (Midnight)

Western Outskirts, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Whether it was because he had no interest in visiting the prison himself, or whether he believed it was unnecessary, or some other such thing, T'aren held back. Instead of following as he first intended, he turned, and headed west, through the city streets and into the open night. Manrenthain lay behind him, and the winding river just before him.

Ziphara lifted her head, as if to smell the air, and her ears twitched. T'aren knew his steed well enough to realise the noble creature had spotted something. There, moving in the shadows, just across the river.


Winston trudged through the small town on the western side of the flowing river, the night was cool and its breeze chill, though his footsteps were unaffected thus. His steps carried him along the outskirts of the great City of Men--Manrenthain as it was known--along the river, but never past it. There was something about the waters, dark in the night, more black than blue, which caused unease.

Grey skinned and of short brownish-black hair, he wore a variety of stitches, as another might wear bracelets or necklaces. His clothes were ragged, and dusty, and he appeared a weary traveller to those that knew no better.

Winston skirted the edge of the river, just near the bridge that led across it. Opposite him, approaching slowly from the other side, out from the city like some guardian knight, was T'aren. And, beneath him, Ziphara, more uneasy with each step that closed the distance between her master and the strange wanderer.

---

[b]Saber_Leader, Darth_Vaders_cousin[/b]

[i]Night[/i] (Midnight)

[i]Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith[/i]

[color=blue]Twilight gave way to darkness, and nightfall was soon upon Quandanlore. [b]Jaminon[/b] stirred his cup, a honey-brown liquid within it, and glanced about him. Hours had passed since his first entry, and many of the Sun's patrons had already headed home for the night. Even though the Golden Sun remained open until morning, [b]Jaminon[/b] knew that it was time that he, too, best be going.

He hardly noticed the stirrings around him, some patron's mumbling and others snoring given the late hour. [b]Jaminon[/b] simply rose to his feet and walked past [b]Tal Yenas[/b], headed straight toward the main exit, stumbling outside. He was so very tired and he needed to rest, but not in a place like the Sun. He needed a soft bed.

[b]Jaminon[/b] wandered into the night, walking the streets alone. His coins jingled as if to announce his presence in the midst of th

 

IC: T'aren
Western Outskirts, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

T'aren sat on Ziphara's back as the river grew nigh, petting the back of her neck to calm her nerves, noticing that some of the hairs of her mane were now straight up. His long white hair brushed against his back as he brought his hesitant horse to a halt, much to her approval as she stopped rather promptly. This was not normal, for Ziphara was always a horse prone for adventure, but something about this... man seemed to frighten her. As T'aren focused his eyes, his sight becoming more clear, he noticed grey skin and a surplus of bandages on the enigmatic wanderer of the city. He had seen stranger things.

"Good evening, friend," he said, nodding his head enough to where he thought the stranger could see the movement. "Or should I say morning?" He looked up into the night sky at the overhanging moon. "It is after midnight if my eyes aren't deceiving my mind. Of course, I've always learned sight is but a mere deception." He waited for a reply from the wanderer as the river calmly separated them, her waves slowly moving downstream.

Tag: Livi-Wan

 

Winston
Western outskirts, city of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Winston looked up as a lone rider, most likely a City Guard or Knight, approached. If he'd had air in his lungs he would have sighed. He hated dealing with city authourities, who seemed unable to believe that just because a man was vitally challenged he had a propensity for devouring human brains and rampaging though the streets. Fortunatley, the man didn't seem to notice his condition and simply wanted to talk.

"Good evening, friend," he said, nodding his head. Winston nodded back, carefully. When your head's held on by staples you don't tend towards sudden movement. "Or should I say morning? It is after midnight if my eyes aren't deceiving my mind. Of course, I've always learned sight is but a mere deception."

What??

The wizards of fifty years ago had spoken in incredibly obscure ways, but Winston had never graduated from being an apprentice and so hadn't been expected to understand. This man, whoever he was, spoke like a tenth-level mage at least.

"Yes..." he managed, staying on his side of the bridge. Any closer and, despite the spells he'd used, the Kinght would catch a whiff of the scent that betrayed him as one of the dead. "Erm, I'm terribly sorry, but could you tell me if this is Manrenthain? It's been a... while... seen I was here last."

[TAG Dark-Engima]

 

IC: T'aren
Western Outskirts, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

As T'aren awaited a reply from the stranger, a soft wind emitted from the atmosphere, creating a cool breeze that brushed against his face, a soft whisper hitting his eardrums.

"Yes..." the stranger said, remaining inert. "Erm, I'm terribly sorry, but could you tell me if this is Manrenthain? It's been a... while... seen I was here last."

T'aren nodded his head. "Indeed. It is more commonly known around here as the City of Men, a nice place from my perspectives, albeit others may disagree. Tell me, do you enjoy the beautiful wildlife of the parts? Take the river for instance. The beautiful, clear water flows downstream, as if without a care in the world. It is difficult to find someone who halts at the sight of it and takes in its beauty and wonder, and it is a shame. It inhabits so many lifeforms, possibly more than this city. Creatures with gills live in this river, forming an aquatic civilization. Not many realize this as I do. And the grass. The greenest thing you've ever seen, no? The flowers are beginning to bloom, and insects will feed off of their nectar as trees sprout their leaves, providing oxygen for the unappreciative humans. Truly wonderous, isn't it?" T'aren stopped in realization of his common ramblings of the beauty of nature.

Tag: Livi-Wan

 

Winston
Western Outskirts, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

"Indeed. It is more commonly known around here as the City of Men, a nice place from my perspectives, albeit others may disagree. Tell me, do you enjoy the beautiful wildlife of the parts? Take the river for instance. The beautiful, clear water flows downstream, as if without a care in the world. It is difficult to find someone who halts at the sight of it and takes in its beauty and wonder, and it is a shame. It inhabits so many lifeforms, possibly more than this city. Creatures with gills live in this river, forming an aquatic civilization. Not many realize this as I do. And the grass. The greenest thing you've ever seen, no? The flowers are beginning to bloom, and insects will feed off of their nectar as trees sprout their leaves, providing oxygen for the unappreciative humans. Truly wonderous, isn't it?"

"I didn't take you for a natrualist." remarked Winston, trying to hurry this talkative mortal along. He wanted to get into the city, dangit. Already he could sense rain coming. Rain, while not exactly harmful to Wimston, was an annoyance. He tended to dissolve. "You look more like a Knight to me. Are you checking papers or something?"

[TAG Dark-Enigma]

 

IC: T'aren
Western Outskirts, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

"I didn't take you for a naturalist," the stranger stated. "You look more like a Knight to me. Are you checking papers or something?"

T'aren noted a hint of eagerness and annoyance in the stranger's voice. "Ah, my friend, being a Knight does not halt one's right to elaborate on the beauty of Mother Nature and making a few friends along the way. Name's T'aren. If you would like to enter the city, I will escort you if you wish, as I have nothing further to do tonight. If not, I shall be on my way." T'aren flashed a smile, realizing that they remained on opposite ends of the river as Ziphara scuffled somewhat anxiously. T'aren could tell that she felt something that wasn't right, and wondered if it was the man he was speaking to. If it was a man at all.

Tag: Livi-Wan

 

Character Sheet

Name: Curunír

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Faction: None Yet

Home: Manrenthain

Place of Birth: Manrenthain

OOC: Will Post an opening later, and Dark-Enigma you got to my favorite quotes from V for Vendetta quotes before me darn.

 

OOC: I hope that this V for Vendetta movie doesn't get quoted so much that I get annoyed and decide no to watch it at all..

*points everyone back on topic*

 

OoC: Ah, V for Vendetta is much too excellent of a movie not to quote.

*points to sig* The 8th of November is my birthday, in case any of you were curious why it did not say the 5th.

 

Name: Cayrn Stormbringer
Species (Lifeform): Human
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Faction (Allegiance): Neutral
Home: Quandanlore.
Place of Birth: Quandanlore

Bio: Cayrn was born in the Merchant town of Quandanlore. Growing up as a child, he was quite shy and mostly picked on by the other children whom spent their days fighting with sticks pretending they were knights. Instead, Cayrn found himself more attracted to the ways of magic. From a young age, he was always enthraled by the travling shows, with tricks and performance of slight of hand. It was from here than Cayrn began to immitate these tricks, learning to make simple things appear out of seemingly nowhere. The simplest of magic fueled his thrist to learn more about it, driving him now to search out ways to learn of more feats of magic.

Tag: LSA

 

Name: Shaman El-Asali, AKA The Soothsayer, He Who Tames the Wind

Species (Lifeform): Chosen Man, a breed of humans that are extremely strong, fast, and long-lived. So-called because of the belief that they are chosen by animal deities.

Gender: Male

Age: 121

Faction (Allegiance): None, currently. Is on a self-imposed exile from his native land.

Home: Unknown

Place of Birth: Western Islands

IC as El-Asali
Marenthain's Western Outskirts

As the Shaman passed by two beings, hearing speech of Mother Nature, he halted in his tracks. Asali slid his cloak from his shoulders, revealing his muscular body beneath. He wore nough but the robe and loose trousers, and tatoos covered his back and arms, even travelling along his chest.

"It is one thing to speak of Mother Nature, and another to live alongside her." he said with a sing-song tone. His emerald eyes glinted in the sun, giving him a feline appearance, and lips turned up in a smile.

Asali was very well built - broad shoulders, toned body, and tanned flesh. His hair was light and long, and he bore with him a sole weapon, the tooth of a sandworm, fashioned into a knife.

"Can ye speak sooth of our Mother's Nature?" he asked, a smile playing on his mouth.

Tag: Dark Enigma, Livi-Wan