A Kingdom's Fate (Rp): Ended.
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Aw, rats. I went away for a couple of hours, I just got back and ddn't have time to change my sheet. Or would it not have made it anyway?
Also congrats to the seven who got in.
EDIT
Also congrats to the seven who got in.
EDIT
Well he wasn't wearing heavy armour, like a berserker, and you said Kin-dwarves can't be Blademasters.Jav3lin said:
[HEADING=2]
As the prophets of Gyia always said; "Gyia provides" It's meaning has gone without saying, that Gyia will provide for these lands. In times of sorrow, in times of war and in times of desperation. Gyia provides.
It's been over 15 years since the Rift sprung lose upon the East. Great earthquakes and floods followed, thousands of people died and the land was scarred for eternity. But it was for a good cause. It denied Tai Ogul entry into Herelden, and without the Rift, all of Calemdar would be in ash now.
Now, more than ever do the people seek forgiveness for their sins, retaliation for their loss, closure for the deaths that have occured and pray now to Gyia.
But Gyia cannot provide always. There are some things, that only the strong willpower of people, banded together against a united enemy can provide. The destruction of Tai Ogul.
Now, King Herald calls upon a Landsmeet; a meeting of Nobles, slaves, warriors and outcast, who are ready to serve under one banner, one united symbol and strike the enemy where it hurts.
As of now, the King's couriers are already speeding across the lands, bearing sealed documents to these warriors, bearing a signature of the King and by law, they are not obligated to answer this call, but for the fate of this Kingdom, they must.
It is early morning, and the sun is calmly rising in the east with a bellowed and beautiful tone of orange seeping across the morning blue sky. The villagers of Flemworth have already started their duties, as well as the townsfolk of Swaere. The Dwarves in Wurden are banging their steel and the workers in Mungen are smelting theirs.
The port town of Wesburg is slow to rise, all those marketplaces starting to crowd up. You can hear the bells ring and the ships come and go with precious cargo going to the Dwarven ports in the North.
The wildlife is already awake, enjoying their morning walks as the farmers on the eastern plains of Swaere are growing their crops and bleeding to the bone to earn coin for the family.
Poverty doesn't exactly reign over Calemdar, but since trade dropped from the east 15 years ago and the great gates of Tartungen closed shut, gold is only arriving from the West and South.
Few Nobles and Lords are up at this hour, for they need their preacious beauty sleep. The slaves in Herelden are mopping the floors and cooking breakfast, and the dwarven kin in Mount Nort are fast asleep with a full belly of ale and mead and their scruffy little beards sticking out.
It is a wonderful morning in Calemdar, save for the slums. In the slums, nothing is wonderful, nothing is beautiful, and the people there know only misery and deceit.
The Guild harasses the shopkeepers and the Guardsmen throw the beggars off the streets and into the slums where they belong.
In the far stretches of the north, the Mountain life slowly comes around. Grizzly bears of white and brown color both, prowl the snowy terrain, as the scorpids crawl between holes in the rocky lower parts of the mountain.
Meanwhile, the couriers ride to all four directions of the compass, bringing the word of King Herald's meeting.
Chapter one: Gyia provides
[/HEADING]As the prophets of Gyia always said; "Gyia provides" It's meaning has gone without saying, that Gyia will provide for these lands. In times of sorrow, in times of war and in times of desperation. Gyia provides.
It's been over 15 years since the Rift sprung lose upon the East. Great earthquakes and floods followed, thousands of people died and the land was scarred for eternity. But it was for a good cause. It denied Tai Ogul entry into Herelden, and without the Rift, all of Calemdar would be in ash now.
Now, more than ever do the people seek forgiveness for their sins, retaliation for their loss, closure for the deaths that have occured and pray now to Gyia.
But Gyia cannot provide always. There are some things, that only the strong willpower of people, banded together against a united enemy can provide. The destruction of Tai Ogul.
Now, King Herald calls upon a Landsmeet; a meeting of Nobles, slaves, warriors and outcast, who are ready to serve under one banner, one united symbol and strike the enemy where it hurts.
As of now, the King's couriers are already speeding across the lands, bearing sealed documents to these warriors, bearing a signature of the King and by law, they are not obligated to answer this call, but for the fate of this Kingdom, they must.
It is early morning, and the sun is calmly rising in the east with a bellowed and beautiful tone of orange seeping across the morning blue sky. The villagers of Flemworth have already started their duties, as well as the townsfolk of Swaere. The Dwarves in Wurden are banging their steel and the workers in Mungen are smelting theirs.
The port town of Wesburg is slow to rise, all those marketplaces starting to crowd up. You can hear the bells ring and the ships come and go with precious cargo going to the Dwarven ports in the North.
The wildlife is already awake, enjoying their morning walks as the farmers on the eastern plains of Swaere are growing their crops and bleeding to the bone to earn coin for the family.
Poverty doesn't exactly reign over Calemdar, but since trade dropped from the east 15 years ago and the great gates of Tartungen closed shut, gold is only arriving from the West and South.
Few Nobles and Lords are up at this hour, for they need their preacious beauty sleep. The slaves in Herelden are mopping the floors and cooking breakfast, and the dwarven kin in Mount Nort are fast asleep with a full belly of ale and mead and their scruffy little beards sticking out.
It is a wonderful morning in Calemdar, save for the slums. In the slums, nothing is wonderful, nothing is beautiful, and the people there know only misery and deceit.
The Guild harasses the shopkeepers and the Guardsmen throw the beggars off the streets and into the slums where they belong.
In the far stretches of the north, the Mountain life slowly comes around. Grizzly bears of white and brown color both, prowl the snowy terrain, as the scorpids crawl between holes in the rocky lower parts of the mountain.
Meanwhile, the couriers ride to all four directions of the compass, bringing the word of King Herald's meeting.
Now, I want everyone to post once, introducing your characters and arrive at the Hereldian castle gates. Once there I will provide the first Quest. Good morning!
EDIT: Added the non-playable races to the Races spoiler, added the next part of the Map and updated the Towns and Villages spoiler with the new places.
EDIT: Added the non-playable races to the Races spoiler, added the next part of the Map and updated the Towns and Villages spoiler with the new places.
Ra'ive sat letting the smoke fill his lungs, feeling the anticipation and waiting for the moment the rocks would take affect. Suddenly it happened and he felt the wave of euphoria wash over him. The room he was staying in suddenly became alot brighter and the whores he had employed for the night seemed to shine.
All of a sudden he heard a tapping it didn't seem to originate from anywhere in particular, that was the problem with Blackrock screwed up your senses. He slid on his right glove making sure the claw was assembled, approached the door and flung it open to find... Nothing there was no-one there. He turned around after closingthe door the see the prostitutes looking up at him from the bed terror in their eyes, he was about to assure them of his strictly honorable intentions when he heard the tapping again, this time however he could pinpoint the location of the sound. He walked to the window and no sooner had he opened it when a large black crow flew in and purched itself on the desk amoungst all of the blades and drug paraphinalia.
He recognised the crow and motioned for the whores to leave his room, when they where gone he picked up the crow and sure enough there was a small message attached to its leg. He sat and read the message, growing more and more intrigued with every word he read. When he was done he sat back in his chair, the crow had left on its own accord as it always did. 'Herelden' he thought as he poured another dose of Blackrock into a bowl 'Haven't been there since...' he stopped himself from finishing that sentance because even thinking it would have hurt. He took the bowl filled with the Rock over to the fire, set it down and as the rocks began to dissolve he gazed into the flame, deep in thought.
'Herelden, it has been some time' Ra'ive thought to himself as he stood outside its mighty gates and took in the many conflicting emotions within him. This place bore nothing but bad memories for him and he wanted to forget it even existed.
Over the years he had almost convinced himself of that but every now and again he would see it in the distance or hear talk of it and he would be forced to remember his time here. 'Enough of that' he thought 'focus on the task at hand and for Gyia's sake dont get spotted'.
It was true he was going to have to be careful because if the wrong person found out about his return and he would be in a word of trouble, of course it would be the type he couldn't handle but trouble none-the-less and with that Ra'ive took a deep breath, headed through the gates and towards the castle.
All of a sudden he heard a tapping it didn't seem to originate from anywhere in particular, that was the problem with Blackrock screwed up your senses. He slid on his right glove making sure the claw was assembled, approached the door and flung it open to find... Nothing there was no-one there. He turned around after closingthe door the see the prostitutes looking up at him from the bed terror in their eyes, he was about to assure them of his strictly honorable intentions when he heard the tapping again, this time however he could pinpoint the location of the sound. He walked to the window and no sooner had he opened it when a large black crow flew in and purched itself on the desk amoungst all of the blades and drug paraphinalia.
He recognised the crow and motioned for the whores to leave his room, when they where gone he picked up the crow and sure enough there was a small message attached to its leg. He sat and read the message, growing more and more intrigued with every word he read. When he was done he sat back in his chair, the crow had left on its own accord as it always did. 'Herelden' he thought as he poured another dose of Blackrock into a bowl 'Haven't been there since...' he stopped himself from finishing that sentance because even thinking it would have hurt. He took the bowl filled with the Rock over to the fire, set it down and as the rocks began to dissolve he gazed into the flame, deep in thought.
'Herelden, it has been some time' Ra'ive thought to himself as he stood outside its mighty gates and took in the many conflicting emotions within him. This place bore nothing but bad memories for him and he wanted to forget it even existed.
Over the years he had almost convinced himself of that but every now and again he would see it in the distance or hear talk of it and he would be forced to remember his time here. 'Enough of that' he thought 'focus on the task at hand and for Gyia's sake dont get spotted'.
It was true he was going to have to be careful because if the wrong person found out about his return and he would be in a word of trouble, of course it would be the type he couldn't handle but trouble none-the-less and with that Ra'ive took a deep breath, headed through the gates and towards the castle.
OoC said:
"Get on with it, then. Mm. No. To the left a bit more, I think. Now, raise your end up a bit--there! Right there. Yes. Hold it."
"Err. Sergeant Renaldo."
"One moment please, Constable."
Ellondra Renaldo stood stiffly in front of the eastern wall of her parlor as two of her household's servants labored beneath the weight of a rather enormous cherry wood shadow-box, each attempting to hold it perfectly and minutely still. They'd been moving the behemoth of carpentry across the room for well onto three hours now, trying to find just the perfect location and angle for the frame's contents to be displayed for visitors. The woman was quite difficult to please, and her collection of colored beetles had been a tremendous investment of time and energy. The servants' knees quivered under her ice-cold analytical stare.
"Hmm..." She nodded once to herself, "Yes, yes. I knew it."
The boys grinned sidelong at each other at their obvious success.
"I prefer it on the other wall."
The shadow-box landed with a sharp thud onto the floor. One of the servants looked like he was about to cry. Ellondra, however, looked quite satisfied.
"Sorry, Constable, what was it that you needed?"
When the woman finally turned to her fellow Guard and subordinate, he gave a rigid salute, "We--that is, the office--received a letter for you. It was delivered with the utmost urgency; in fact, the messenger seemed rather reluctant to pass it over. Err. I told him how your dogs felt about strangers, though."
Ellondra took the scroll with great interest, multiplied by the crest on the seal--and when she read the summons, she nearly forgot to breathe.
"Sweet Mother...!" she turned quickly to the Constable, "Are you certain there's been no error?!"
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but you are, well... the only 'ma'am'..."
The Constable's logic fell on deaf ears, however, as the Lady of the house had fled like lightning up the stairs to prepare.
------
Maintained, that was the word people thought when they saw her. Not a single curl of her hair was out of place; her armor was immaculately polished. Even after a two days' ride from Wesburg to the Capital, all aspects of her seemed practically beaten into the sense of deliberate perfection that was such a discipline to create--even her damned horse.
Ellondra didn't even dismount when she came upon the gates of Herelden, whipping out her legal documents from her bag with little more effort than a twist of the wrist for the benefit of the posted guards, informing them that she was here to see the King (may he rule a hundred years).
"Err. Sergeant Renaldo."
"One moment please, Constable."
Ellondra Renaldo stood stiffly in front of the eastern wall of her parlor as two of her household's servants labored beneath the weight of a rather enormous cherry wood shadow-box, each attempting to hold it perfectly and minutely still. They'd been moving the behemoth of carpentry across the room for well onto three hours now, trying to find just the perfect location and angle for the frame's contents to be displayed for visitors. The woman was quite difficult to please, and her collection of colored beetles had been a tremendous investment of time and energy. The servants' knees quivered under her ice-cold analytical stare.
"Hmm..." She nodded once to herself, "Yes, yes. I knew it."
The boys grinned sidelong at each other at their obvious success.
"I prefer it on the other wall."
The shadow-box landed with a sharp thud onto the floor. One of the servants looked like he was about to cry. Ellondra, however, looked quite satisfied.
"Sorry, Constable, what was it that you needed?"
When the woman finally turned to her fellow Guard and subordinate, he gave a rigid salute, "We--that is, the office--received a letter for you. It was delivered with the utmost urgency; in fact, the messenger seemed rather reluctant to pass it over. Err. I told him how your dogs felt about strangers, though."
Ellondra took the scroll with great interest, multiplied by the crest on the seal--and when she read the summons, she nearly forgot to breathe.
"Sweet Mother...!" she turned quickly to the Constable, "Are you certain there's been no error?!"
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but you are, well... the only 'ma'am'..."
The Constable's logic fell on deaf ears, however, as the Lady of the house had fled like lightning up the stairs to prepare.
------
Maintained, that was the word people thought when they saw her. Not a single curl of her hair was out of place; her armor was immaculately polished. Even after a two days' ride from Wesburg to the Capital, all aspects of her seemed practically beaten into the sense of deliberate perfection that was such a discipline to create--even her damned horse.
Ellondra didn't even dismount when she came upon the gates of Herelden, whipping out her legal documents from her bag with little more effort than a twist of the wrist for the benefit of the posted guards, informing them that she was here to see the King (may he rule a hundred years).
He stood on the brink of oblivion, gazing out across an endless night. Below him, fires raged in the minds eye; as far as he could see, the tiny, flittering twinkle of lights, each one representative of a mortal soul. Some shone bright and clear, others muted and distorted, while some were blackened, emitting a sickly light. It's own radiance was sickly and distorted, yet it pulsed defiantly in the face of corruption.
For he was Half-Bound. Monster. Wretched. Hellspawn. Whatever name he was labled with, it was true; he was an abomination upon this earth, an abortion of magic let loose from the Shadowrealm. The binding ritual which had brought forth the Dark Soul had bound it inside of a human boy, an orphan named Edan; but it had been preformed incorrectly, and instead of subsuming the human's conciousness and taking over it's body, the two souls had been merged instead. Now there was no longer an "Edan", or a "Shade".
There was only Skaar.
The Death Knight took a step back from the cliff face, his grotesque, blackened plate armor swaying in the breeze as the ragged shroud he wore whipped and twirled against the wind. His face, scarred and burnt by the infusion of the Dark Soul, was hidden from view by an equine skull-helm, over which a thick cowl had been pulled. Hated and feared by all, the only place a Half-Bound such as him was "safe" was in the mountains of the north, a wild, desolate place inhabited only by monsters, orcs, and other Half-Bounds.
But even here, removed from the mortal world, he knew that something was happening. He could commune with the spirits of the dead, and they told him all he needed to know of the outside world: of the Tai-Ogul mustering to the east, of the squabbles between the Dwarf-Lords, of the Drow's schemes and plots... and of crimes committed against the living. Those who died by an assasins blade, or by the hammer of a tyrant, left a resonating, pained afterwake in the World Beyond; something that Skaar could hone in on. He conversed with these misrable creatures often, always taking it upon himself to avenge those who had died, and bring their murderers to justice.
Thus, in the black of night, he would leave the Mountains and venture south into the territory of the Mortal realms, to hunt them down. Tales were told of a monster, cloaked in shadows, which appeared from nowhere with flames in it's eyes and wielding the blade of Gaudan itself to punish those who had done wrong. None were exempt from his wrath; be it a corrupt noble or the lowliest thug, he made them pay. The only evidence of his passing were the mangled, broken bodies of those he left behind.
Now, he waited in the sanctity of his mountain lair. Something was happening in the world... ancient forces stirring, old enemies rising once more to wreak havoc upon the mortal world. The Spirits whispered of the events to come, instructing him in what he must do.
He would bide his time in the hallows of his mountain home. Soon, events would be set in motion. Then it would be time to act.
For he was Half-Bound. Monster. Wretched. Hellspawn. Whatever name he was labled with, it was true; he was an abomination upon this earth, an abortion of magic let loose from the Shadowrealm. The binding ritual which had brought forth the Dark Soul had bound it inside of a human boy, an orphan named Edan; but it had been preformed incorrectly, and instead of subsuming the human's conciousness and taking over it's body, the two souls had been merged instead. Now there was no longer an "Edan", or a "Shade".
There was only Skaar.
The Death Knight took a step back from the cliff face, his grotesque, blackened plate armor swaying in the breeze as the ragged shroud he wore whipped and twirled against the wind. His face, scarred and burnt by the infusion of the Dark Soul, was hidden from view by an equine skull-helm, over which a thick cowl had been pulled. Hated and feared by all, the only place a Half-Bound such as him was "safe" was in the mountains of the north, a wild, desolate place inhabited only by monsters, orcs, and other Half-Bounds.
But even here, removed from the mortal world, he knew that something was happening. He could commune with the spirits of the dead, and they told him all he needed to know of the outside world: of the Tai-Ogul mustering to the east, of the squabbles between the Dwarf-Lords, of the Drow's schemes and plots... and of crimes committed against the living. Those who died by an assasins blade, or by the hammer of a tyrant, left a resonating, pained afterwake in the World Beyond; something that Skaar could hone in on. He conversed with these misrable creatures often, always taking it upon himself to avenge those who had died, and bring their murderers to justice.
Thus, in the black of night, he would leave the Mountains and venture south into the territory of the Mortal realms, to hunt them down. Tales were told of a monster, cloaked in shadows, which appeared from nowhere with flames in it's eyes and wielding the blade of Gaudan itself to punish those who had done wrong. None were exempt from his wrath; be it a corrupt noble or the lowliest thug, he made them pay. The only evidence of his passing were the mangled, broken bodies of those he left behind.
Now, he waited in the sanctity of his mountain lair. Something was happening in the world... ancient forces stirring, old enemies rising once more to wreak havoc upon the mortal world. The Spirits whispered of the events to come, instructing him in what he must do.
He would bide his time in the hallows of his mountain home. Soon, events would be set in motion. Then it would be time to act.
"The key to Herelden Roast Lamb is in the onions, you see. You must sear the meat in the pan, but be sure to reserve the drippings for the onions." Vik'nar explained to his lieutenant. He couldn't stand the stuffy office, and preferred to dispense his orders while simmering this or braising that from the kitchen of his restaurant.
"You want to chop it very finely so that it can take in the flavor." The onion falls into the tiniest dices under his practiced hands. "And into the pan until they go clear, a little bit of wine will help to scrap up the stuck on bits. Very important as they are fully of flavor for this sauce."
"Vik, how do you intend anyone to take you seriously if you are constantly mulling about in the kitchen. We have an organization to run, not a large one mind you, but you could at least act the part of a thief lord." San'tar Hashi'shin, a distant cousin, but family none the less and a better lieutenant none could find. Only halfway decent in a fight, but the man had a way with words that cut deeper than weapons.
Although Vik always felt that weapons could speak their own language, the throwing dagger lodged inches to the left of San'tar's head shut him up, he never flinched though.
"I really wish you would stop doing that Vik, there are more polite ways to make your point." Pulling the dagger from the wall. "But we really must attend to this issue. We can't have our own gambling parlors cheating us. Signs of weakness might give cause for 'them' to muscle their way back in."
"I know, I know." The issue at present was a certain gambling den keeper taking a little extra than his alloted share. The Guild would have a finger for such an offence, but Vik'nar was determined to run his area differently. The Sever had suffered much under The Guild, but he couldn't simply let it slide.
"Rough him up, but leave him intact. Let him know that if he crosses me again, I'll be visiting him personally. So any other matters that I must attend to? The roast will be most charred and I'll have some unhappy patrons, should I be delayed much longer."
"Only one, a most peculiar summon. It seems your presence is requested at the castle. The King seal and name adorn the scroll. As you well know the couriers have been coming and going for quite some time now, delivering summons for the King's grand meeting."
"Gyai be damned, me at that landsmeet of his? He's either a fool or desperate or both. Hmmmm it's probably of no concern to us, but give me a forth-night to think it over." A wave dismisses San'tar to his business with the gambling den.
Vik'nar had eyes and ears all over the realm, most so in Herelden. The King was calling the best of the lands to deal with the potential threat to the East. No one has crossed the Rift in 15 years, what does he know that I don't? Word does come slow and sparse from there though. If the realm is truly endangered, then it's possible I could use this to my advantage...
2 days later Vik'nar stands before the immense castle gates. The guards can hardly believe their eyes, asking what business a slave has here. Hard to blame them, a meticulously immaculate female knight had proceeded him. He produces the documents, although they still wanted to enter him under escort - grumbling something about probably having waylaid some noble warrior on the road, and picked it off his body. Vik'nar stands to the side, observing the others as they enter the small court yard outside the gates.
"You want to chop it very finely so that it can take in the flavor." The onion falls into the tiniest dices under his practiced hands. "And into the pan until they go clear, a little bit of wine will help to scrap up the stuck on bits. Very important as they are fully of flavor for this sauce."
"Vik, how do you intend anyone to take you seriously if you are constantly mulling about in the kitchen. We have an organization to run, not a large one mind you, but you could at least act the part of a thief lord." San'tar Hashi'shin, a distant cousin, but family none the less and a better lieutenant none could find. Only halfway decent in a fight, but the man had a way with words that cut deeper than weapons.
Although Vik always felt that weapons could speak their own language, the throwing dagger lodged inches to the left of San'tar's head shut him up, he never flinched though.
"I really wish you would stop doing that Vik, there are more polite ways to make your point." Pulling the dagger from the wall. "But we really must attend to this issue. We can't have our own gambling parlors cheating us. Signs of weakness might give cause for 'them' to muscle their way back in."
"I know, I know." The issue at present was a certain gambling den keeper taking a little extra than his alloted share. The Guild would have a finger for such an offence, but Vik'nar was determined to run his area differently. The Sever had suffered much under The Guild, but he couldn't simply let it slide.
"Rough him up, but leave him intact. Let him know that if he crosses me again, I'll be visiting him personally. So any other matters that I must attend to? The roast will be most charred and I'll have some unhappy patrons, should I be delayed much longer."
"Only one, a most peculiar summon. It seems your presence is requested at the castle. The King seal and name adorn the scroll. As you well know the couriers have been coming and going for quite some time now, delivering summons for the King's grand meeting."
"Gyai be damned, me at that landsmeet of his? He's either a fool or desperate or both. Hmmmm it's probably of no concern to us, but give me a forth-night to think it over." A wave dismisses San'tar to his business with the gambling den.
Vik'nar had eyes and ears all over the realm, most so in Herelden. The King was calling the best of the lands to deal with the potential threat to the East. No one has crossed the Rift in 15 years, what does he know that I don't? Word does come slow and sparse from there though. If the realm is truly endangered, then it's possible I could use this to my advantage...
2 days later Vik'nar stands before the immense castle gates. The guards can hardly believe their eyes, asking what business a slave has here. Hard to blame them, a meticulously immaculate female knight had proceeded him. He produces the documents, although they still wanted to enter him under escort - grumbling something about probably having waylaid some noble warrior on the road, and picked it off his body. Vik'nar stands to the side, observing the others as they enter the small court yard outside the gates.
Dworgen tossed in his bed, lost in a dream of the civil war that had claimed so many lives beside and in front of him. Death screams echoed through the caves in his head, and suddenly they came at him, those who he had killed or failed to save. He sat up in his own bed, sweat pouring down his face and into his beard.
He got out of his bed and took a long drink from a jug of water on his table. Once the pounding of his heart and the screaming in his head had stopped, Dworgen sat down on the edge of his bed and stared to sharpen his sword in rhythmic, meditative strokes.
A clang from the other side of the door heralded the entrance of a human, who looked like some sort of official in a dress uniform. The stone slab rolled back over Dworgen's door, and then there was no light save from a small candle next to it. The human official, crouched double to avoid hitting the dwarf-sized ceiling, sat hunched over on a dwarf-sized chair, and handed Dworgen a letter with the Herelden crest on it. Dworgen slit open the letter with a bedside dagger, and read...
Dworgen leaned on his scabbarded sword, and looked up the hill at the Hereldian castle. Others were arriving, either by horse or foot, for reasons unknown. He'd hiked for a week through the Flemwood, taking a detour to the north and then the west to avoid the Elves. Steadying his tired legs on his sword, he approached the gates and sat down heavily on the grass.
He got out of his bed and took a long drink from a jug of water on his table. Once the pounding of his heart and the screaming in his head had stopped, Dworgen sat down on the edge of his bed and stared to sharpen his sword in rhythmic, meditative strokes.
A clang from the other side of the door heralded the entrance of a human, who looked like some sort of official in a dress uniform. The stone slab rolled back over Dworgen's door, and then there was no light save from a small candle next to it. The human official, crouched double to avoid hitting the dwarf-sized ceiling, sat hunched over on a dwarf-sized chair, and handed Dworgen a letter with the Herelden crest on it. Dworgen slit open the letter with a bedside dagger, and read...
Dworgen leaned on his scabbarded sword, and looked up the hill at the Hereldian castle. Others were arriving, either by horse or foot, for reasons unknown. He'd hiked for a week through the Flemwood, taking a detour to the north and then the west to avoid the Elves. Steadying his tired legs on his sword, he approached the gates and sat down heavily on the grass.
The morning sun was accompanied by a cool breeze that made it's way into the village of Flemworth. Elves were going on with their daily duties. Many getting ready to journey out with their fine made goods and make a living. Deeper into Flemwood there is a single elf enjoying a the morning's rays on his face as he slept.
A single arrow flew through the forest cutting the air around it like butter. It hit it's mark which was inches away from Aer'rad's face. The young elf awoke and look down to notice his next of kin below him on the forest floor preparing to launch another arrow.
"Dho'ik you really need to work on your aim," Aer'rad grabbed the bow from the tree bark and landed next to his brother.
"Aer'rad I bring news. There was a courier in the village and he brought you a note," Dho'il explained as he passed his brother a letter.
As Aer'rad studied the note he noticed the Herelden crest. He carefully went over the letter many times before packing it away in his back pocket.
"Brother I am being summoned to a Landsmeet held by King Herald. I don't know how long I will be away so I need you to watch over the family. Can you do that for me?" Aer'rad rested his hand on his brother's shoulder
"Yes brother I will not let you down," Dho'ik replied.
Aer'rad quickly rushed through the dense forest and returned to his home. He gathered his supplies and set off north-east towards Herelden.
___________
A day had passed since Aer'rad had begun on his journey. As he approached the Hereldian castle gates he threw his hood over his head. He decided he would stick to the shadows before actually engaging in any conversation.
A single arrow flew through the forest cutting the air around it like butter. It hit it's mark which was inches away from Aer'rad's face. The young elf awoke and look down to notice his next of kin below him on the forest floor preparing to launch another arrow.
"Dho'ik you really need to work on your aim," Aer'rad grabbed the bow from the tree bark and landed next to his brother.
"Aer'rad I bring news. There was a courier in the village and he brought you a note," Dho'il explained as he passed his brother a letter.
As Aer'rad studied the note he noticed the Herelden crest. He carefully went over the letter many times before packing it away in his back pocket.
"Brother I am being summoned to a Landsmeet held by King Herald. I don't know how long I will be away so I need you to watch over the family. Can you do that for me?" Aer'rad rested his hand on his brother's shoulder
"Yes brother I will not let you down," Dho'ik replied.
Aer'rad quickly rushed through the dense forest and returned to his home. He gathered his supplies and set off north-east towards Herelden.
___________
A day had passed since Aer'rad had begun on his journey. As he approached the Hereldian castle gates he threw his hood over his head. He decided he would stick to the shadows before actually engaging in any conversation.
Quest: Birds of a feather
The hours have passed since the guests were escorted into the Castle, and it is now the afternoon of a rainy day.
The guests of honor see before them a long walkway with stone poles and mahagony wood furnitures, and the beautiful golden and green walls are decorated with the finest paintings and wall ornaments.
"The King will see you now"
A simple man dressed in fine silk and fancy decorations waves his hand with a blank face and dead eyes.
The guests walk on the beautiful green carpet with golden outlines and red flower decorations as the giant wooden door in front of them is open, revealing the Throne room, in all it's glory.
It looked twice more expensive, and several Sever-Elf servants were switching the flowers in the pots and walking up the stairs with silver tray's of food and wine.
The throne itself was in the middle, back against a wall. The wall turned into a two-way staircase, both stairs leading to the walkway right above the throne.
Above them were walkways with stone railings and a dozen of closed wooden doors.
"Aaah, these are them I take it?"
The King gradually exclaims and waves toward one of the two guards, now standing behind the group, that were posted by the Throne room entrance.
The guard on the left nodded and followed the second guard out the door. The door closed and the group were alone with the King.
"Now. While prying eyes and snivering ears are away, I shall discuss my problem"
The King began, standing up and waving his hands in an expression manner.
"To the North-East lie the Northern Mountains, you have all heard of these I reckon. Now, what you have not heard, are the sightings of Gryphons in these hills"
The King stopped, letting the message seep in.
"Yes, my scouts have located Gryphons. Now, while this matter is very delicate and fascinating, these news CANNOT reach unwanted guests. For, if the forces of Tai Ogul were to learn of this, they would use whatever resources they have to capture these and ...."
The King stopped again, looking down with a sad expression while he thought of the consequences.
".... then his forces may gain the trait to fly, allowing them passage over the Rift. I know, that Tai Ogul's spies have already infiltrated my guards, and my own personal Squads are not far away, you I can trust. You, I can look into the eyes and see, that none of you want this world in ash, that atleast some of you care for the world as it is, and perhaps the people within it. And therefor, you are the last resort I have to turn to"
King Herald then smiled at the group as he noticed Ellondra.
"Hmmm, you are the officer from Wesburg... yes, nice to see someone with potent leadership skill will be accompanying these fine gentlemen on their journey"
King Herald then unsheathed a silver dagger, encrusted with a head of a dragon in the hilt and presented it to the group.
"One of you must take this, and once you have slain the Grypon Mother, you must drive this through her heart to ensure her blood will not reach Tai Ogul's spies. However, since Gryphon sightings have become incredibly rare, I want you to retrieve one of the eggs, possibly scattered there or located in a nearby cave, and bring it back here. My men will work on it, and see if we can't breed these magnificent creatures once more!"
The same two guards walked in again upon Herald's call for them, and King Herald waved the group.
"There will be a sizable reward for you, if you succeed, and an even greater one should you retrieve one of these eggs. Outside my castle you will find a stable area. Go there and there will be an Elven scout, along with horses for all of you should you need them"
The guards started escorting the group out again and right before the great doors closed shut, the King called after them:
"May Gyia guide your blade, and seethe your mind!"
The wooden doors closed and the two guards kept walking toward the courtyard door.
As the group left the wonderful hall of paintings and stone statues, the wet gravel and sweet breeze met them outside. The rain had stopped, and beyond the clouds above, the sun peeked out and smiled upon them.
The guards still up front, the group had headed toward the stable area, and had finally arrived to see the scout arrive by horse, wielding a bow and quiver and wearing green clothes under a brown set of leather armor, bearing the King's crest.
Ra'ive was in a terrible mood by the time they had gotten outside, it had been over a week since he had last gotten 'Rocked' and he was starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms.
"This is insulting! Sending a profesional such as myself after some eggs!" he spat, the sun shining off of his mask and into his eyes adding to his frustration.
"And whats more, I have to co-operate with a officer of the guard! Why dont i just save you the trouble and...." he stoped as he began to feel a warm trickle from his eye running down his face, he put his finger under his mask and when he withdrew it he was hardly surprised to see blood.
He shook his head and climbed shakily onto a horse. Once mounted he took out his pipe and stuffed the end with a small amount of Ceaweed.
'Just enough to clear make the trip faster' he thought to himself, he looked around at the rest of the group.
"Anyone going to help me light this?" he said impatiently once he discovered he had misplaced his tinderbox.
"This is insulting! Sending a profesional such as myself after some eggs!" he spat, the sun shining off of his mask and into his eyes adding to his frustration.
"And whats more, I have to co-operate with a officer of the guard! Why dont i just save you the trouble and...." he stoped as he began to feel a warm trickle from his eye running down his face, he put his finger under his mask and when he withdrew it he was hardly surprised to see blood.
He shook his head and climbed shakily onto a horse. Once mounted he took out his pipe and stuffed the end with a small amount of Ceaweed.
'Just enough to clear make the trip faster' he thought to himself, he looked around at the rest of the group.
"Anyone going to help me light this?" he said impatiently once he discovered he had misplaced his tinderbox.
Aer'rad took the dagger as he bowed to the king,"This will be done swiftly and quietly, you have my word my majesty."
As Aer'rad made his way outside to the stables he tossed the man on the horse his tinderbox before mounting the other horse. He still kept his hood over his face trying to conceal as much as he could.
"I believe the less you complain the quicker this little "assignment" will be. Personally I have far better things to do though you do not see me shouting like a mad man," Aer'rad spoke as he adjusted the reigns on the horse.
As Aer'rad made his way outside to the stables he tossed the man on the horse his tinderbox before mounting the other horse. He still kept his hood over his face trying to conceal as much as he could.
"I believe the less you complain the quicker this little "assignment" will be. Personally I have far better things to do though you do not see me shouting like a mad man," Aer'rad spoke as he adjusted the reigns on the horse.
Ra'ive caught the box and hurridley proceded to light his pipe, once it was lit he threw the box back to it's owner and inhaled deeply through the small hole he had made in his mask for that very purpose. He closed his eyes for a moment and then let the smoke flow from his nostrils. It was a weird site to behold as the smoke seeped out from the eyeholes in his mask and up into the sky, he watched it float away before turing back to the tinderbox man.
"I'd retort but i'm too high to care right now" he said as he blinked rapidly and checked his saddle. He was begining to feel like his normal self again, he hoped it would last.
"I'd retort but i'm too high to care right now" he said as he blinked rapidly and checked his saddle. He was begining to feel like his normal self again, he hoped it would last.
"Just like a pair of Elves to only think of themselves." Not that Vik'nar didn't have his own interests, but he did feel a shine of nobility in his own dirty dealings. A Sever may stab you in the back, but nothing comes before freedom and family.
"In the interest of making this bloody Gyia mess as pleasant as possible, we could at least introduce ourselves."
"Vik'nar Hashi'shin at your service should you ever need a fine meal prepared, a foe to find a dagger in their neck or both - I have this lovely knife that goes through tissue and tendon oh so well."
"In the interest of making this bloody Gyia mess as pleasant as possible, we could at least introduce ourselves."
"Vik'nar Hashi'shin at your service should you ever need a fine meal prepared, a foe to find a dagger in their neck or both - I have this lovely knife that goes through tissue and tendon oh so well."
Ra'ive wobbled slightly on his horse he'd misjudged the amount of Ceaweed and so would be prone to making amateur mistakes.
"You can call me Ra'ive and i'll hold you to that meal later" said Ra'ive though he instantly regretted revealing information about himself or getting familiar with these people.
"You can call me Ra'ive and i'll hold you to that meal later" said Ra'ive though he instantly regretted revealing information about himself or getting familiar with these people.
I have added deeper lore to all the sub-races. This RP being player-driven, you will do most of the talking. Keep an eye on that OP, because I will be updating the Combat engagements as well as Travel- and Combat related stuff.
EDIT: It's in the OP, bottom spoiler.
EDIT: It's in the OP, bottom spoiler.
Vagabonds. Ruffians. And a Dwarf! 'Accompany these fine gentlemen," the King had said.
I am being mocked!
It had taken all of her self-control to keep her face stonily expressionless during the audience with the monarch, but once outside the throne room she wouldn't exert the slightest effort to mask her disappointment and disgust. Surely this was punishment. Or a very insensitive prank.
Ellondra shoved past the others at the stables to claim her mount from within them, pulling the stallion free and swinging herself up onto his back. She glowered down at the masked one, already high on Ceaweed--as though her rank meant nothing! A quick command and a hoof could knock that pipe straight out of his mouth. And, she noticed, the Sever-Elf seemed quite bold. She deduced he must belong to Herald. At the very least, the quiet Elf had been the one to lay hands on the King's silver dagger. She only hoped it wouldn't go straight into a merchant's pocket.
Without so much as a greeting, she said sternly, "Where is this scout?"
I am being mocked!
It had taken all of her self-control to keep her face stonily expressionless during the audience with the monarch, but once outside the throne room she wouldn't exert the slightest effort to mask her disappointment and disgust. Surely this was punishment. Or a very insensitive prank.
Ellondra shoved past the others at the stables to claim her mount from within them, pulling the stallion free and swinging herself up onto his back. She glowered down at the masked one, already high on Ceaweed--as though her rank meant nothing! A quick command and a hoof could knock that pipe straight out of his mouth. And, she noticed, the Sever-Elf seemed quite bold. She deduced he must belong to Herald. At the very least, the quiet Elf had been the one to lay hands on the King's silver dagger. She only hoped it wouldn't go straight into a merchant's pocket.
Without so much as a greeting, she said sternly, "Where is this scout?"
The scout dropped from his mount as Ellondra finished her sentance.
"I am here milady"
He said cheerfully and smiled toward her.
The scout's clothes twirled a little in the cool wind that pulsed through the air every few seconds.
"We will be traveling the road to Swaere. There we will rest, for the journey North will be a tough one"
The scout delivered a notice letter to the guards and stepped on his horse again.
"Alright, you all set? We should head out while we have daylight. We will be traveling through the night, and should arrive tomorrow night in Swaere"
The scout turned his horse toward the road as the guards turned their backs to the group and started heading their way back to the castle with momentum and rythmic walking speed.
The wind still pulsed, and the sun went from cloud to cloud, always shining brightly for a few minutes, and then fading once again.
The road that the scout had started slowly walking on lead past a dozen or two houses, mostly rotten and disgusting. Trees decorated the plain around the houses and the background showed the mighty Northern Mountains. And if you looked closely, you could spot the tip of Mount Nort.
"I am here milady"
He said cheerfully and smiled toward her.
The scout's clothes twirled a little in the cool wind that pulsed through the air every few seconds.
"We will be traveling the road to Swaere. There we will rest, for the journey North will be a tough one"
The scout delivered a notice letter to the guards and stepped on his horse again.
"Alright, you all set? We should head out while we have daylight. We will be traveling through the night, and should arrive tomorrow night in Swaere"
The scout turned his horse toward the road as the guards turned their backs to the group and started heading their way back to the castle with momentum and rythmic walking speed.
The wind still pulsed, and the sun went from cloud to cloud, always shining brightly for a few minutes, and then fading once again.
The road that the scout had started slowly walking on lead past a dozen or two houses, mostly rotten and disgusting. Trees decorated the plain around the houses and the background showed the mighty Northern Mountains. And if you looked closely, you could spot the tip of Mount Nort.
"If my delicate companions don't wither, the pace you set shall be fine," she said snidely, guiding her steed to follow the scout. She was attentive to her surroundings, but not nearly as attentive as she was to her traveling guests.
Ellondra thought the procession must look like a jailhouse transfer. Her nose wrinkled.
Ellondra thought the procession must look like a jailhouse transfer. Her nose wrinkled.
Aaer'rad pulled his mount to be parallel with the guard captain who was ahead of his.
"I know that I can continue on for weeks though you seemed to be angered. None of us has even spoke to you yet. What seems to be the problem?"
"I know that I can continue on for weeks though you seemed to be angered. None of us has even spoke to you yet. What seems to be the problem?"