A Kingdom's Fate (Rp): Ended.

[Cinnonym]

Everything happened quickly. First Ra'ive fell and then the scout from around her. Ellondra's mount bucked out of fear. The blood against the snow seemed quite more vivid than it should have been.

"Shh, shh--steady!"

"Tell yourself..."

As the Sergeant brought the steed back under her control with a fist in its reigns, she wheeled around toward the rest of the party.

"...these are not your friends."

Yes... That was true, wasn't it? Just as likely to put their weapons in her back as in that of an enemy. These people were vagabonds, and she had not rode all this way to babysit them! And yet--the weight of the silver dagger at her back was heavy. She had a mission to carry out, and she was twice as stubborn and prideful as she was loyal to the Crown. Ellondra's hand went to the hilt of her falchion, and withdrew just as quickly. She would not draw--after what those voices had done to Ra'ive and the Elf, she didn't trust herself with it.

Sorcery. Her lip curled bitterly.

"Call yourself righteous while you hide?!" Ellondra called out to the emptiness as the fog was fading; upon receiving no answer, she whispered harshly to Ra'ive, "Away with your weapons! What good do you think they will do you...?"

Investigation [though she refused to dismount to conduct it] of the scout's body confirmed his death. It made her uneasy.

"We have lost our guide," the woman addressed the party in general, "We must keep moving. Superstition will not keep me from my duty!"

She paused, expecting dissent from all members. But the fire of diligence was in her eyes--if they would not accompany her, Ellondra would go alone.

 

[The Zango]

Ra'ive's heart was still racing as the figure slowly melted away into the fog, it had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, the only evidence it left was the slowly cooling body of their guide. He stood for a moment poised and ready to attack should it return.

"Away with your weapons! What good do you think they will do you...?" said a voice from behind him and he saw it was the guard, this brought him back to his senses. He slid his hands from the claws and re-mounted the horse with a new fierce determintaion.

"Lets us linger here no longer" he hissed as he adjusted his mask and steadied himself on his horse, if the creature came upon them again he would be ready and he would make sure he would aquaint the beast (as he himself had almost been aquainted to) his blades.

Spoiler: Edit

Dammit! Thats meant to be no longer sorry guys

 

[Cinnonym]

"Yes," she quickly agreed, "Let's not sit like birds on a line. We do not know if a death will make It stronger."

At even an indirect mention of the black magic, she made a swift hand gesture and murmured a prayer to Gyia.

Spoiler: OOC

Wow, that made my entire post moot. Edit.

 

[Slycne]

Give in to your fears. The words echoing to the core of him. Images flash in his mind's eye of family slain or worse and the slums a blaze with fire, all that a slave might humbly accumulate in life stripped away.

The soft velveting ripping sound of steel slicing through flesh and the accompanied gurgle of blood soaked gasps for breath, sounds Vik'nar is most familiar with, snap his attention back fully to the situation.

The scout lays crumpled in a pool of his own blood, the elf named Ra'ive is down and the rest of the party is desperately trying to calm their horses. He still has't spotted their foe yet.

His mind races - run or fight, run or fight, run or fight!

Calm down dammit!, he thinks to himself and the panic lessens for the moment. As the fog of panic lifts from his mind, he comes to realize that people are talking.

"... our guide. We must keep moving. Superstition will not keep me from my duty!"

"Let us linger here no longer"

"I am in agreement, let's put this accursed place behind us and quickly. However, one thing first." Vik'nar dismount and drags the body of the scout over to the scout's horse. "A little help getting him up and strapped down? This man has loved ones who we at least owe them the knowledge of a proper burial, I'll not leave his remains in this place."

 

[The Zango]

"Do not burden yourself with such things Vik, he will only slow you down when we face the beast again!" said Ra'ive a small hint of anger in his voice.

He normaly would have at least wanted to give the man a burial but he was overcome by the need for revenge on the creature that had humiliated him.

 

[Cinnonym]

Ellondra jolted out of surprise at the gesture the Sever-Elf undertook. In spite of the scout's gruesome death, no doubt horrifying for the young Elf to have suffered through... she'd been so anxious, she'd not wanted to leave the saddle and give up the only weapon she knew couldn't be turned against her: hooves. But the honorable thing, the chivalrous thing to do would be to...

The Sergeant dismounted and quickly assisted Vik'nar, hefting him up onto a shoulder and mumbling something about duty under her breath.

 

[Malifact]

A ghostly wisp escaped the open mouth of the fallen elf, streaming out in a long, winnowing line before disappearing into the mist. The ominous voice rang out once more, a smug trace of satisfaction coloring the speakers tone

"The weakest of you has fallen...but through death, he has redeemed himself. Continue on this path, and the rest of you will follow."

A thousand sibilant whispers accompanied the monotonous speaker, each one overlapping the next, yet somehow all were damningly clear. They tugged and twisted at the minds of the travelers, seeking to pry deep within their souls and shatter the confidence that had brought them here. Each one whispered of something close to each individuals heart; of past failures, of fallen comrades, of misdeeds committed.

It was your fault...

Trust is your weakness...

They are coming for you...

The snow fell thicker and harder, till it was impossible to see more than 10ft ahead of oneself; and it only seemed to intensify as the voices continued to murmur into their ears.
Through the blinding blizzard, a tall, vaguely humanoid shape could be seen, hazed and indistinct between the veil of snow. Once more did the powerful, dread voice ring out from all around them.
"Turn back now, and you shall be spared..."

 

[The Zango]

Ra'ive's head turned as the voices filled his mind again but since the last time he had sobered up and he was possessed with determination to not fall under the beast influence again.

It took all his strength not to step off of his horse and challenge the creature openly.

Thoughts of his brother, his parents and the Guild filled his head, he did his best to set the thoughts aside as he sat atop his horse waiting impatiently for Vik and Ellondra to recover their guide.

 

[Jav3lin]

As Ellondra and Vik'nar position the guide upon his horse, a documented paper falls from his saddle-bag.

Note:

Gyia provides. Gaudan protects​

Your mission is to guide the travelers to the Gryphon lair. Once you are there, you must take one of the eggs present before they manage to destroy them all. Take the egg and bring it to Swaere. Explain that your orders were to escort them to the Nest only, and not back to Herelden. Once you are in Swaere, you need to locate a house next to the tavern, wielding a red banner on the rooftop. At the door, knock twice, and enter. Once inside, speak the password and hand over the egg.
Retrieve your payment in the old stone fountain in the square.
Destroy this note anyway neccesary, by all means must this note not land into the hands of the travelers. May the Gods watch over you.

Gyia provides. Gaudan protects​

The document is scrolled up with a small sign of burning at the bottom of the paper. Like someone tried to burn it, but quickly stopped the process.
Along the note is a map of Flemwood, map of Calemdar and several other trade manifests and merchant documents assigned for Herelden, Wesburg and Swaere.

Also from the saddle-bag you see a small cloth-pouch of Black Rock and two vials of Moundvine poison.

 

[Cinnonym]

Ellondra held up a hand to shield her eyes from the thick snowfall.

"What is this...?"

She could hardly think with the voices returning and fading and returning anew--upon further reflection, she took the entire bag and slung it over her shoulder. To be honest, she was comforted by the extra documents and information... The Sergeant worried they would miss a vital contact en route and raise an alarm.

Though... Ellondra thought, something about that first document had rubbed her the wrong way...

She growled aloud, "I can't think with this wretched creature rambling!"

Failures were not memories to which she took kindly.

"Let us move forward."

 

[Slycne]

"Agreed. More is certainly going on with regards to this little mission, but let's be rid of this storm and that! infernal voice first." ,he responds and pulling up on his head wrap to shield his face more fully. He'd already draped his bed roll over his shoulders like a big floppy cloak.

Shivering to the bone, I should have brought some more proper clothes... and some warm rum cake.

 

[Malifact]

"Your journey ends here" It murmured, and from the blizzard ahead of the group, the speaker stepped forth. It-or he, rather-stood at nearly seven and a half feet tall, and was clad in plate-armor of the deepest black, overlapped by a ragged black shroud. The armor in an of itself was... grotesque. Pauldrons fashions in the shape of skulls, writhing demons and screaming flames were a motiff repeated across it's tarnished surface. It's face was obscured by a wicked skullhelm, the sockets of which glowed with a pale, corpulent light.

It looked down upon them, it's baleful, unholy gaze seeming to stare straight through each and every one of them, freezing the frightened and the weak-willed in place where they stood. Slowly, deliberately, it reached a clawed-hand back over its shoulder, and with a sickening "pop", a jagged length of bone burst from it's shoulder. It gripped this protruding length in its clawed gauntlet, and slowly began to pull. Like the legends told of the Sword in the Stone, this... thing was drawing forth a blade, sliding it out inch by inch. When he'd finally gotten the whole of it out, it measured over 5 feet from hilt to tip. All of its length was made of glistening, bloody bone, the edge of which shone with a malicious keenness which bone should not posses.

The Death Knight-for that was what this abomination was-brought the blade down over his shoulder and leveled it at the group, black blood still dripping from it's glossy length. It stood there, immobile; waiting for them to make a move.

Spoiler: Image

 

[Cinnonym]

Immediately, Ellondra's falchion was in her left hand with her bracer behind it to support a blow, should the battle come to a quick start--and a quicker finish.

"Lower that blade, fiend, before I put it back where it came from!" she spat, "'Less you sprout wings and a lion's head, I've no business with you!"

 

[NimbleJack3]

Dworgen clutched his head and fell off his horse as grim recollection played it's horrors across the macabre cabaret of his head. The voices had dug up terrible memories of things he did not want to do again - A cave-in on a group of refugees, pushing another dwarf and impaling him an a stalagmite, these and more came back and whispered one thing: You did this.
Dworgen's internal darkness veiled the death of the guide and the voice in the mist, but when the death-knight made himself known an internal drill-sargent screamed Dworgen out of the horrors and made him stand up. Dworgen's mind went and hid as pure animal rage, washing away the fear, invaded his brain and pointed at the source of the recent despair.
His eyes rolled onto their whites as he drew his sword and barely stopped himself from launching himself headlong at the dark apparition. He gave an animal scream, and rushed at the death-knight.

 

[The Zango]

The moment the fiend had stepped forward Ra'ive had rolled off his horse, somersaulted mid air and ran so he stood adjacent to Ellondra, claws already on and glinting in the pale light. The voices swirled around his head and he could hardly control his lust for vengence upon the creature.
'They killed your parents and made your brother betray you. You failed Ra'ive and now you cant even show your face'
There they stood for a long while, he might have been able to contain his rage, he may have even been able to put the voices in his head aside and hold his ground. He was doing it until the dwarf let out a blood-curdling howl and charged straight towards the creature.
This pushed Ra'ive over the edge and before he knew what was happening he he too ran with the dwarf. There seemed to be a wall of razor sharp steel hurtling towards the fiend as Ra'ive threw knife after knife, sometimes two or three at a time towards the creature.
He had lost all sense of self preservation, all he wanted was to see the creature beaten and broken at his feet.

 

[NimbleJack3]

Spoiler: OOC

Wow, everyone's going beserk. And that is certainly a badass-looking death knight.

 

[The Zango]

Spoiler: Ooc

Lol we actually just me and you...and maybe the guy that stabbed himself. Yeah that is quite the awesome pic. I'm going to go out on a limb here did you draw that? Becuase if you did i have one thing to say, TEACH ME!

 

[Malifact]

Spoiler

Pssh. I WISH I could draw that well... sadly no, that's just a pic I found after a long trawl through the interwebz.

The knives clattered against the creatures blasphemous plate armor to no effect, each one striking the blackened suit of void-forged mail to clatter harmlessly to the ground. "Cease." He intoned, unleashing a mind-numbing mental attack upon the charging Dwarven berserker. "You do not appear to be... brigands..."

 

[NimbleJack3]

For the second time in as many minutes, Dworgen dropped his sword and fell to the ground. A shrill thought that was not his had cleaved through the rage and exposed the naked pink thought underneath. His mind had quickly realized that couldn't do anything with the intrusion there, and promptly shut itself off for a while.
Dworgen lay still on the cold earth, foaming gently.

Spoiler: OOC

Huh. Is this guy going to be a part of our party now or something? I thought he was going to be a PC villain.

 

[The Zango]

Ra'ive began to slow as he took in the creature's whispered words and stopped all toghether when he saw the Dwarf fall before even coming into contact with it. He stood and raised his claws once more.
"You demon! We mean you no harm but i swear, if you hurt one more of our number you shall scream as i sink my blades into your throat! Now speak! Why have you been tormenting us so?" he half spoke, half yelled at the creaure before him. He spoke with confidence and assuredness that scared even him.
Once he had finished speaking he walked over to the Dwarf and supported him back with his leg in an attempt to stop him swallowing his tongue.

I think he was meant to be a party member from the start but you can hardly have a shambling abomination being called to a landsmeet with the king, can we? Nice plot device Jav3lin and Malifact!