Daragoth RP

[CrazyMonkeyDude]

I'm just gonna sketch this out, as I has a cold and I feel like going to bed nao.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Race: (Any of the races in Daragoth, 'cept for the bosslike ones)
Weapon Class: (Any of the different weapon types, or JoaT. Be known that if you choose JoaT, you won't actually be that great a fighter, just versatile[this may be up for debate])
Description: (WAT'CHOO LUK LIKE)
Bio: (History of your character)

Rules:
1) GRAMMAR. Please? At least attempt it? D:
2) No godmodding. You can't have your character slay a hundred orcs without breaking a sweat, then attract all the sexy b*tches and have a giant orgy.
3) Keep in mind that you're working with other real people here. You can have your own plot for yourself, but you don't have sway over other people's plots. You're all flowing in the current, even if you have plot ideas for later. I say this because I've seen how bad it is when someone doesn't get their way and tries to force it. He's already killed 2 RPs that I enjoyed.
4) Control of other characters, without their permission, is strictly forbidden.
5) I'd prefer if you started out like an adventurer; without them thar best weepons. If you have a good reason (noble birth, fighter background, etc) you may have maybe one or two semi-epic items, but you'll have to run this by me, first.
6) Try to keep within the lore. Do some reading, if you have to (and I do).
7) Keep all out of context (OOC) stuff in double parentheses. ((like this)) It helps stop confusion.

I'll post my own character and maybe a bit of background tomorrow. I don't expect this to start for at least another day or so as we gather some people.

 

[Sabre]

Name: Raoan (Surname unknown)
Race: Human
Weapon Class: Aikido Warrior (Magic and melee)
Description: Gray eyes, Short brown hair, above average height and excellent build.

Bio:
Alignment: Dualism
Occupation: Servant of the Vihara of Pathos
Nobility: Not known

Raoan stood watching as his home, the only one he had known, burnt to the ground. The distant cry of Orcs made him grit his teeth in disgust, and in anger, at what he was witnessing...

...As a child Raoan's parents were slaughtered by a necromancer; he was brought to the Vihara to be raised, and trained in the mental and physical spheres of combat, while learning of the ways of the supreme Loreldian. When he came of age, Raoan chose to perfect his skill of martial arts. For seven years, Raoan lived and breathed combat, even developing a combat style that incorporated magic into his fighting. He quickly became the best fighter in the sect, surpassing even his former masters.
One day, Raoan set out on a pilgrimage to seek out his roots, his home, the site of his parents' demise...And then they attacked. Hundreds of Orcs raided the Vihara, seeking revenge for years of being test victims for all the new, brutal means of pummeling something into the throes of death. They overtook the complex only by sheer number...Raoan could do nothing, but watch, hold back his tears, and move on...

 

[The Man In Black]

Name: Giethnes Tradilk
Race: Undead Elf
Weapon Class: Shadow Assassain (Small arms + Archery + Magic)
Description: (story below)
Bio:

Giethnes Tradilk hunched over the shriveled form of a woman. His withered hand slid slowly out of his cloak to retrieve the arrow stuck in her arm. No blood issued from the wound as he withdrew the glowing point. A slight breeze from behind him blew the mussed the woman's hair, and he quickly guided the strands back into place.

"I've done what you asked for," he said. Contempt was all too present in his voice. Sliding the arrow back into his tunic, he turned around and matched gaze with the red, glowing eyes in the shadows. "Now, return her to me."

"No, we don't think we will," came a voice in Giethnes head. The voice was but a whisper, and the very sound, if you could call it that, made Giethnes feel empty inside. "You've proved yourself to be too useful, now. We have decidede that you will stay indebtted to us, and, if you should prove yourself worthy, we will return her from the soulwell."

The bow on Giethnes' back rattled as he shook with rage. He closed his eyes briefly, but her image wouldn't stop tormenting him. "That wasn't the deal. Return her to me, or--"

"Or what? Huh, you think your power could even stand to ours? Remember, we are the only reason you are here. We are the only way to ressurect Stoullos." The eyes narrowed, causing Giethnes to feel cold and alone.

"No, you have given me more powers than you seem to think. It is not only through you that she can return." Giethnes turned back to the body, putting his hands on her head and chest. A purple glow spread from his hands and encased her body. The wind from his magic blew his hood back, revealing his pale face and long, greasy, black hair. His eyes glowed purple as he concentrated more.

The withered skin of his victim returned to its youthful state and her breathing commenced. She slowly opened her eyes and caught his, which returned to their normal, kind state. Stoullos' eyes grew wide. She opened her mouth and let loose a scream that cut through the empty hosue. Giethnes pulled away his hands in shock and she fell back to the floor. Her skin withered.

Giethnes sat back and looked at the still form. He breathed heavily, not even daring to blink, much less move from his position. The shadows chuckled.

"Amusing, but futile. You will stay under our service until we decide to free you both. Until then, your loyalty shall be known as you carry our will through this land." Giethnes' palms burned, but he didn't wince. He stared at the red ovals seared his hands. The smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils and he cringed.

"We will be in contact," said the voice. Another gust of wind signified its exit. Giethnes stood and walked to his former love's body. He slung her over his shoulder and left the house. The fog enveloped him as he marched slowly to the down the dirt road. Though there were no clouds, a lightning bolt shot from the sky, destroying a nearby tree. Giethnes' wearily eyed it, knowing what was to be done.

 

[evilsquirrel]

Name: Gradak Tremont
Race: Elf of Torkalath
Weapon Class: Spellblade
Description: Pale skin, Medium length white hair, Hazel eyes.
Bio:

Alignment - Chaotic Evil
Trained as a spellblade (Uses magic to enhance physical attacks)
Noble blooded
Fame - 7/10

Gradak's hand tighetened around his shortsword. His father's eyes grew wide and stared at a distant point. The sword freed itself as Gradak's father slid backwards down the stairs. A drop of blood started to fall from the tip of his weapon, but Gradak quickly caught it; he did not want to lose a single drop. He quickly licked his blade and hand clean.

Gradak's vision blurred; his feet rose from the ground. Red light shone from his eyes, lighting the dark house. The familiar feeling of new blood coursed through his body. His feet slowly touched the floor and he sank to his knees. His breathing was heavy and his body was still pulsing from the energy.

It was done, now. He had slain his family. He walked down the stairs and through rooms strewn with bodies. The frantic knocking on the front door and changed to a slow, rhythmic pounding. He threw open the doors and saw the majority of the town before him.

Gradak moved to an aggressive position, preparing for a charge, but no one moved towards him. The light emitted by all of the magicks being prepared was enough to blind Gradak on its own, but then the magicks actually hit him. He found himself unable to move; unable to speak; unable to breathe. His vision blurred and turned black.

 

[The Valorous]

Name: Barduk al-Hadr bin Zazi [bar-DOOK awl-HOD-ear BEAN ZAH-zee]
Race: Human
Class: Fallen Champion
Description: Tall, muscular, tan man with striking facial features such as a full beard, short military haircut, and a six inch long scar that runs down his right cheek. Also carries mementos of his family in the form of beads and ancient ankhs. Wears battered and damaged plate and mail armor, and wields a ruster two-handed claymore.

Bio:

Barduk, or "Duke", as the local people called him, was not born into a noble family. His beginnings were humble. He was born and raised by farmers on a farm who were barely able to support their family of twelve. Barduk was the youngest of the twelve, but his father made him his favorite out of the rest. Even though he lived a simple life, Barduk had aspirations beyond his means. He wanted to become a knight, serving and dying for his country as he thought every countryman should. Soon, Barduk grew into a strong, noble man. The fields made him strong and his muscles hard, but his family, especially his six sisters, kept him kind and gentle towards every living thing. Surely his fate could not be contained in his family's farm.

One day, as knights from Deralia came passing through his village, the knight commander, Alain, noticed Barduk as he tended to his family's fields. Alain grew intrigued and, after asking the villagers about Barduk and finding about his aspirations to become a knight, he approached Barduk and offered him an apprenticeship. Barduk gladly accepted, even though he fully knew that he could not possibly become a knight due to his family's lineage, or lack thereof. Barduk traveled the lands with Alain and his knights, often as a servant, but many times, personally, as a student. He learned how to use a blade efficiently, but also learned how to create his own armors and weapons. He learned the lore of the land and all of its denizens. He even became friends with some of the knights: Tarvik, Miekleny, Horvis, Andlus, and Biersay.

However, one night would change it all. The Deralian knights, after essentially recruiting Barduk from the bottom rungs of society, frequented his home village for supplies and relaxation. One of the knights and Barduk's closest friend outside the village, Tarvik, had taken a fancy to one of his sisters, Elyssia. Barduk was wary about Tarvik and his intentions, but he still allowed him to court his sister. One night when the knights were at the village, Tarvik and a few other knights paid an uninvited visit to Barduk's family's house. They forced their way in and held everyone in the house as hostage while Tarvik took Elyssia to her parents' bedroom and had his way with her.

Barduk, in the meantime, had no idea what was happening to his family as he stayed with Alain and the rest of the knights at the village tavern where they entertained themselves with drink and song. Eventually, Barduk began to wonder where Tarvik and the other knights were, asking questions to Alain and the other knights. They couldn't give him an answer, so, being frustrated, he stepped outside to get some fresh air. Almost immediately, he caught a glimpse of fire coming out from one of the village houses, which he realized was his house. Barduk rushed towards his home only to find Tarvik greet him. Tarvik had blood smeared all over his face, accompanied with a sadistic grin.

"Hello, little duke." Tarvik's eyes were glowing like a mad-man. He licked his lips, which were covered in blood. "Isn't it a fine night tonight?" He began to cackle.

"What... where the hell is my family? Why do you have blood all over your face?" Barduk demanded. He was fearing the worst, but at the same time, his anger started to grow. He wanted to hear it from Tarvik himself.

"Well," Tarvik paused, looking at the burning house and then back to him, "I killed them. I raped your sister, then slit her throat, then --" Tarvik was about to finish his sentence when Barduk's giant hands grasped around Tarvik's neck and began to squeeze. Barduk's eyes reflected the fire from the house, and he began to scream at Tarvik while he began to choke his life out.

"Why?! Why?! What did my family ever do to you?!" Barduk was about to completely squeeze the life out of Tarvik when the other knights intervened. They hit Barduk over the top of his head and beat on him while Tarvik tried to recover. Barduk almost blacked out when Alain called out to them and ordered them to stop. He walked towards Tarvik and picked him up. Then, he spoke.

"Barduk, why do you assault one of my men?" Alain's voice was full of arrogance. "Don't you know that it is a crime punishable by death?" He paused as he looked down on Barduk. "Well?"

Barduk, bleeding from his mouth, was barely able to respond: "He... he killed my family!"

"Now now, Barduk. We had orders from the King to inspect the land for traitors to the crown." Alain was obviously enjoying this. "And it so turns out that your family has been spreading lies and blasphemies about the king." He paused, kneeling down to look at Barduk's bleeding face. "And you know what happens to blasphemers, don't you? They're sentenced to death!" Alain stood up and kicked Barduk in the stomach with his plated boots. "You know, as they say, 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'. That must've meant you! You are also a traitor, and it is proven completely and unconditionally by your assault on one of my knights." He knelt down at Barduk again and whispered, "Your fate shall be the same as your family's." Alain rose again and pointed to Tarvik and another knight, Biersay, as he turned away with the rest of his men. He yelled to his men: "Burn down this village. They have been deemed heretical." And with that, Alain and most of his knights left.

Barduk, still cringing from pain, tried to get up, but Tarvik kicked him down. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you, just like I enjoyed raping your mother and sister! Prepare to die, boy!" Tarvik unsheathed his two-handed claymore and prepared his killing blow as Biersay watched on with his sword still sheathed. Barduk, knowing that he was fully betrayed by his mentor and fully enraged by the actions of his so-called friends, lunged towards Tarvik with a kitchen knife that he had taken from the tavern. He plunged it into Tarvik's right shoulder as Tarvik lost his balance and fell back, dropping his claymore to the ground. Barduk then looked at Biersay, who was still shocked at the speed of the attack. Barduk punched Biersay with his massive right hand, which collided with Biersay's nose, breaking it to the left. Biersay went to grab his nose, as Barduk stole Biersay's sword from his sheath, and plunged it into Biersay's chest, falling backwards to the ground, dead. Tarvik, who had recovered from the minor stab wound, unsheathed his other blade and began to charge towards Barduk, screaming hell at the top of his lungs. Tarvik lunged, but Barduk sidestepped, dodging the sword thrust, knocking Tarvik off balance and allowing a wide open knee to the stomach. Barduk then pulled out a dagger from his belt, and with a quick motion, shoved Tarvik to the ground and slit his throat, letting Tarvik bleed. Barduk then pinned Tarvik to the ground with a dagger strike to his other shoulder. As a final measure, Barduk took one of the burning logs from his house and set Tarvik on fire, watching him squirm and try to scream as he bled and burned to death.

Everything was lost. The village was burned down and his family and friends were killed. It started to rain, extinguishing the fires all over his village, but it was too late. Barduk laid on the wet and soggy ground all night, crying and screaming in agony and pain over what he had just lost.

By morning, Barduk was a changed man. He went to Tarvik's burnt corpse and, looking upon it with such contempt, beheaded it, taking the head as a trophy, and picking up Tarvik's claymore from the ground. He had a mission, though he had no plan. He took one final look around his village, but saw no survivors, so he headed out towards the world, his soul burning with revenge. I will kill Alain and the Deralia Order.

((OOC: Sorry it was a little long, but hopefully you could use some of the knight characters as part of the story. Eh? Eh? Eh? ))

 

[CrazyMonkeyDude]

Name: Zihira Ketras [zih-HEE-ra Keh-trass]
Race: Elf
Class: Blademaster
Description: Tanned from his years among the Pirates of Dreadwind, a red bandana covering his hair and ears. He was dressed in mostly tattered clothes from whatever recent pillaging had acquired him. Tall, slightly lanky, but toned from years of blade practice.

Bio: Zihira is a pirate through and through. Or, at least, he was. As a boy, his elven coast town had been pillaged. As he looked like a promising recruit, he was spared of the horrible death that belayed his family. Zihira was raised to be a pirate, and so he was. He learned the names of those who had killed his family, and slit some of their throats shortly after becoming initiated into their clan. Setting it up so that the knives were found in the possession of the rest of his family's killers, he got revenge while evading any repercussions. He decided to live out his life among the pirates, pillaging, raping, and generally being drunk all the time, until he came upon Deralia.

While in the port city of Deralia, where the Pirates of Dreadwind actually behaved, Zihira had won several matches of dice against the captain. Drinking himself into a stupor with his winnings, the captain tossed him outside the gates, leaving the following morning without Zihira. Hung over, Zihira awoke to a kodiak sniffing at his crotch. Reaching for the cutlass on his back, he noticed it to be gone. The hidden dagger was still there, tucked in between his buttocks. He grabbed it and stuck it into the kodiak's head. He ate well that morning.

Zihira survived by begging and stealing in Deralia, or by slaying orcs that lived outside in the plains and selling their weapons. Eventually, he decided to head off on his own. He found the innkeeper's stash of gold, nabbed it, along with some of the fine wine, and took off. He put thought to raping the innkeeper's wife, but he remembered the first night where she had given him what she must have thought her "pretty" smile, showing off brown, chipped teeth and a lovely mole on her upper lip. Zihira shuddered at the memory.

Several days later, he noticed a town. Or, well, what was left of it. There were orcs crawling over it, and he could smell the stench of death, feces, and burning flesh from miles. He decided to get away from downwind before seeing a lone man standing on a hill nearby, staring at the town with pain and hatred. The lone man started away from the town, but Zihira caught up, thinking that the man might be an easy target.

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


"Ho there, traveller!" Zihira called out in the language of man. His new cutlass was strapped on his back, and his several daggers knocked together as he trotted to meet up with the man. There was no way to sneak up on him in these hilly plains, so he thought a direct approach might be quicker, but he had to get close, first. He stopped several yards away from the man, palms up in a gesture of peace. "I seem to be lost. I am new to this land, and could use some guidance."



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

((Update rules!))

 

[The Valorous]

Barduk was wary of the man who stood before him. It was only a few hours ago that he had lost everything and everyone in betrayal and, now, a stranger was approaching him for help. His travels with the Deralia Order allowed him to recognize that the stranger was an elf. He distrusted elves, mostly because they knew more than they let on, but also because of the natural prejudices humans had on Felewyn's chosen. The elf decided to keep his distance, which Barduk thought was a smart move.

Barduk wanted to reach onto his claymore on his back but decided against it. His previous experiences with elves didn't go so well: Elves were known for their great agility, and once during a battle, he saw a crazed elf singlehandedly take down a cadre of Deralian soldiers using his superior athleticism to outmaneuver his opponents. He was eventually disposed by Alain and his personal guard, but at a great price. The scar on Barduk's face was a good reminder. Alain, you will pay. Barduk kicked himself out of his memories and returned focus on the elf before him. He looked raggedy, as if he was a survivor from the village, but the elf was equipped to the teeth with blades. He decided to find out who this person was.

"Who are you?" Barduk patiently waited for the elf's answer as Barduk slowly moved his hands towards his waist, reaching for the dagger on the back of his belt. I don't trust this man.

((OOC: Edit: Alright I'll omit you from being the uber elf who killed a cadre of precious traitorous bastardous knights and leave your backstory to you, since I do want to know how you became undead. As for the movement of the story, CMD's probably moving the general story forward, but we could get our characters in position to be introduced, like Sabre did, because we can have our own subplots.))

 

[The Man In Black]

((OOC: Actually, my character is technically good, or, was before he was undead. He's having shady dealings to bring back the woman he loves >_> How he became undead/come into these dealings has not been revealed, yet.

Are we just supposed to be telling stories or is CMD going to bring us together for some sort of adventure? ))

 

[Sabre]

Raoan traveled on, knowing only that he must find the site of his parents' demise, and perhaps a clue at his life, his family...
A poem raced through his mind, something that appeared during his meditations:
A forked tongue of silver
weaves webs of lies
One fated for glory
Sees now demise.
He who was slain,
took with him his legacy
Legacy bound
To a fight, to a legend
Of countless battles fought and won,
by mere hands, hands that hold within
a chance, on a circle.

He knew somehow that some higher power was trying to tell him who his family was, who he was...But for all his inner meditation, he could glean nothing from this riddle...

As Raoan walked, the sound of rushing water found its way to his ear, and he followed it to a small brook. He took in the cool water, and the tranquility of the secluded area, and chose to fall into a slumber.

...The crackling of twigs snapped Raoan out of his dreamless sleep, and he quickly brought himself to his feet and into a combat stance. He dared not speak a word, as he knew not what was around him. Slowly, he backed himself behind a tree, and watched as a figure shrouded in shadow knelt down to take in the brook, as he had before. Raoan saw a wicked looking blade glitter, and instantly began mentally preparing himself for a chance of fight. However, the fight never came, and the figure moved on. Raoan, curious about this person...Or thing...became but a shadow, as he stealthily tailed his curiosity...

 

[CrazyMonkeyDude]

((I meant to interact with Sabre's character, Valorous... But all right.

And MiB, you're all doing whatever you want. Preferably I'd like to see some sort of character interaction, whether it be assassination attempts, friendly connections, or whathaveyou... But it's all up to you.))

"I be but a stranded elf, far from my land." Zihira looked back to the village. "I was thrown off me ship at Deralia. I heard wind of a town nearby that had been ransacked, but I didn't expect this." It was worse than what his fellow pirates had done. At most they killed a portion of the townspeople, mainly those who fought back, took all the treasure and goods they could find, and went back aboard ship. Seldom were there burnings. This looked to be more cold-blooded murder than the plundering Zihira did.

"Be there something wrong? I noticed ye staring at the village." Zihira glanced back once more, being sure to keep an eye on the man in front of him. "Looks like 'tis a horrible sight."

 

[evilsquirrel]

Gradak moved to an aggressive position, preparing for a charge, but no one moved towards him. The light emitted by all of the magicks being prepared was enough to blind Gradak on its own, but then the magicks actually hit him. He found himself unable to move; unable to speak; unable to breathe. His vision blurred and turned black.

When Grakdak awoke, he found himself in an unknown place. There were unfamilliar trees all around, and he knew nothing of this terrain - it seemed completely foreign to him.

'Those damned villagers must've taken me quite a long way from home...' Gradak thought to himself. 'But at least they seem not to have taken anything from...me...wait...where did my money go? Blasted thieving villagers! When i get back I'm going to ring thier filthy little necks!'

After a few hours of uneventful wandering Gradak heard the babbling of a small brook. As he was thirsty by now, he went to get a drink and fill his waterskin. But something was off here, Gradak could sense another presence near the brook - watching him.

Gradak decided that whatever it was would not be foolish enough to follow someone of his appearance, and that its blood was probably not worth dulling his blade for. He moved on, heading north for a good hour before realizing that whatever it was that had found him at the brook was following him, watching at a distance. And so, thinking that this could at the very least make his journey a little more interesting, he shouted out to the unknown figure behind him.

"I can sense your fear - creature, now show yourself before I decide to make it justified."

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

(( /me interacts with sabre ))

 

[The Valorous]

((OOC: Argh. My bad. Misread the whole pain and anguish thing and missed the orcs... seems like there's a lot of death and pain going on with our characters.))

 

[evilsquirrel]

((OOC: Argh. My bad. Misread the whole pain and anguish thing and missed the orcs... seems like there's a lot of death and pain going on with our characters.))

((OOC: well yeah, makes for more interesting characters ))

 

[Sabre]

"I can sense your fear - creature, now show yourself before I decide to make it justified."

...Hesitantly, Raoan stepped out of the shadows. Almost immediately a bolt of dark energy shrieked towards him, so he encased himself in magic shielding and rolled out of the way of certain death, and into an aggressive stance. The shadowy figure immediately drew the blade that Raoan had spotted earlier...Luckily, he had enjoyed the challenge of an armed opponent. He launched himself at his opponent, and as a streak of cold steel began to attempt to lop of his head, Raoan feinted to the right, turned around, and landed a kick that made his opponent buckle to his knees. He kicked the sword a good twenty feet away, summoned a lethal shard of ice, and held it to the throat of his opponent.

"Tell me; what kind of fool chooses to attack on sight, but for one that has something to hide?! Who are you?!"

((OOC: @Squirrel, hope you don't mind that I semi-owned you. ))

 

[evilsquirrel]

"I can sense your fear - creature, now show yourself before I decide to make it justified."

The creautre whihch had been following Gradak revealed itself from the shadows, and Gradak quickly determined was but a mere human.

'Pah, a human? What a waste of life... I shall liberate that soul, trapped in such a pathetic body...' Gradak thought to himself, using the weakest of his magicks to dispatch of the foe without a second thought.

But this foe was no normal human, and his reaction time allowed him to dodge and counterattack the magic that burst forth from Gradak's sword. Gradak, surprised, moved quickly to decapitate the nuisence, but was foiled again by yet another dodge.

'Just who is this human?' he thought to himself, as the human brought forth what seemed to be a blade made entirely of ice, and held it to his throat.
----------

"Tell me; what kind of fool chooses to attack on sight, but for one that has something to hide?! Who are you?!"

----------

"The kind of fool who does not wish to trifle with pathetic humans such as yourself!" Gradak responded, as he prepared a spell in his mind.

"NOW BEGONE!"

However, something happened then that Gradak did not intend...His spell failed. The spell which was intended to create a barrier of fire, the strength of which was matched only by a phoenix - failed, and instead made a small poof of smoke at his feet and a small noise which sounded akin to a fart.

While this type of thing may seem normal to a human, it is very abnormal for Gradak. Gradak had not failed to cast a spell in years...

"Err..." Gradak stammered, confused by the spell's failure. "What I mean to say is..." Gradak continued to be flustered. "Look would you put the knife down?"

The human responded: "Why should I lower my blade?"

"I am Lord Gradak, elder of the Tremont Clan - and I am ORDERING you to PUT DOWN THAT KNIFE."

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

((OOC: my character gettin his ass whooped aint a problem, just don't have him slingin more spells than that dark bolt for now ))

 

[The Man In Black]

Giethnes had walked many days without rest. To be honest, the thought of sleep scared him. He did not know if it was possible for souls trapped in the afterlife to haunt the dreams of the living, but he was not ready to find out. It was bad enough that with every passing face, every sound, every blink brought back her memory.

He walked east, with no realy destination in mind. His only hope was that his problems would some how resolve themselves; that somehow his steps were the cure for his ails. A figure appeared on the horizon. The person was far off, but the combination of elven eyes and dark magicks allowed Giethnes to make out the form of a man with, what appeared to be, a large sword strapped on his back.

Giethnes moved his more prominent weapons outside of his cloak in hopes that the shear number of blades an arrows would be enough to keep the human at bay. Time passed, and the human was only 100 strides away. Giethnes moved off of the path, still trying to avoid dealing with him.

"Who are you?" asked the man. Giethnes stopped cold in his tracks; his gaze stayed forward.

"Who am I...? I am but a slave. I am the lowest form of existence. I do not deserve a name." With that, Giethnes continued east.

 

[Sabre]

Raoan, hearing this elf's surrender, released his weapon, but it remained there, floating idly, poised to lance itself through his enemy's throat.

Raoan cast a minor healing spell on the elf and ordered him up. He retrieved the blade and offered it back, and said,

"Do not try anything. One false move, and it will be your last. I will accept a temporary truce, from one wanderer to another, and as such offer my name; I am Raoan...You fight well, but your magic needs some work. Tell me, what brings you to travel?"

((OOC: Short 'n sweet, I suppose))

 

[evilsquirrel]

"Do not try anything. One false move, and it will be your last. I will accept a temporary truce, from one wanderer to another, and as such offer my name; I am Raoan...You fight well, but your magic needs some work. Tell me, what brings you to travel?"

-----------

Gradak stood up, supposing that perhaps this human was more useful than he had first thought - but even if he wasn't, something was wrong with Gradak's magic and he wouldn't be able to do much about the pest anyways. Thus, a temporary alliance with this wretch of a creature was...inevitable.

Gradak quickly retorted "My business is my own, and you'd do best not to touch that sword - it's a family heirloom. It tends to get quite irritated if someone with the wrong blood handles it for long."

Raoan looked confused, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean it's a cursed sword with a mind of its own and you'd do best not to touch it, unless of course you like being skewered alive - then by all means." Gradak stated in a matter-of-fact fashion.

"Why are you here 'Raoan', there doesn't seem to be anything of interest near here - just forests for miles...or did I miss something?"

-----------

 

[Sabre]

After deliberation, Raoan decided to reveal his purpose.

"Well...I am traveling in search of-"

His words were cut off by an unearthly howl, not too distant from where they stood. This was accompanied by several earth-rattling stomps...Flocks of birds streamed into the sky, blotting out what was left of the day's sun. It became all too quiet...

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, I am sure I don't want it finding me," snarled Gradak.

"That makes two of us. Let's move."

The two started off cautious, but didn't get far, as several trees fell right over their path, shortly followed by a hideous monstrosity.

 

[evilsquirrel]

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, I am sure I don't want it finding me," snarled Gradak.

"That makes two of us. Let's move."

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

Gradak and Raoan tried to make an escape from whatever this creature was, but - they were unsuccessful. The beast knocked down trees in thier path, and let out another monstrous howl as it burst forth from the dense foliage of the forest.

"What IS that!?" Raoan exclaimed.

"That... is a bludgeon... Foul creatures they are, always causing havok - and you may have noticed they don't exactly smell nice either. I would advise we run, but it's already got our scent." Gradak stated.

"So what are we to do?" Raoan asked.

*The bludgeon charged*

<edit> Suddenly, Gradak remembered the fight between himself and Raoan - and how his magic had failed...</edit>

"Run faster." Gradak said, already running and searching his bag for a speed potion.

 

[The Valorous]

((OOC: err... uhh... I'm confused now. I was having a chat with CMD's character, who was supposed to converse with Sabre's character, but Sabre is somewhere else. Then, MiB converses with my character while I'm having my chat with CMD's character. I guess I'll have to make it work.))

Barduk had all of his attention on the elf in front of him when another appeared behind him not too far in the distance. He was also an elf, but, unlike the first one, he had the look of death on him, his shadowy cloak like the creeping darkness in the bright day. The elf muttered something in response to Barduk's question, though Barduk didn't understand as the cool wind swallowed up any words that could've been said. The second elf dispersed a dark aura around him, and as he continued to the east, Barduk could feel chills running down the back of his spine.

Barduk felt weak afterwards, as if a part of his soul had just been devoured, but he kept his vigil until the second elf disappeared over the hills. Barduk knew that he still had to deal with the first elf standing in front of him.

"I be but a stranded elf, far from my land." The elf finally decided to speak up, though his focus was back towards Barduk's village. "I was thrown off me ship at Deralia. I heard wind of a town nearby that had been ransacked, but I didn't expect this." He paused for a moment, thinking of what to say next. "Be there something wrong? I noticed ye staring at the village." The elf paused again, giving the village another quick glance. "Looks like 'tis a horrible sight."

Barduk hung his head low and stared at the ground. There was no more crying in him. A sorrowful face was replaced by a vengeful gaze. "Yes," Barduk paused, raising his head to look at the elf. "There is death. Lots of death." Barduk clinched his fists as if trying to squeeze the life out of an animate object that didn't really exist. "You... you said you were thrown off your ship at Deralia." He could barely utter the name of the human capital. Just the thought of it made Barduk want to rip someone's throat out. He knew what he had to do. "Can you help me get there?"

 

[Snow Wolf / RaZoR]

((OOC: err... uhh... I'm confused now. I was having a chat with CMD's character, who was supposed to converse with Sabre's character, but Sabre is somewhere else. Then, MiB converses with my character while I'm having my chat with CMD's character. I guess I'll have to make it work

((OOC: See? That's the Problem at those writing RPs..... I prefer real RPs (like TSRP) ))

 

[Sabre]

Raoan sighed as the hapless elf zipped away from this fight. Before him stood quite a beast, horns crusted with blood and who knows what from who knows how many encounters. Raoan did notice that this bludgeon had a gash on his chest, and decided to make that his focus of attack. Dodging the charging beast, Raoan prepared another lance, this one made of a white-hot fire, and stood poised. The bludgeon looked at Raoan, wondering how this tiny being was blinding him; he squinted, and could not tell that the burning lance was about to acquaint itself with his heart...

Another bloodcurdling cry echoed through the forest.

 

[evilsquirrel]

((OOC: I propose that everyone make it clear who they're interacting with, like - leave an OOC message that says /me interacts with sabre))

_______________

As Gradak ran from the bludgeon, he stumbled upon a cave...

"That bludgeon is probably right behind me, the human won't have stalled it for long...but I don't think it'd fit into this cave..."

*Gradak entered the cave*

It was dark inside the cave, and had Gradak not been an elf of Torkalath - he would not be able to see at all. Gradak attempted to cast a glow spell, but was sorely disappointed when the glow emitted from his hand was a mere three feet or so in diameter.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG!" Gradak screamed.

The scream echoed through the caves...and some scuttling echoed back from the distance...

 

[Sabre]

((OOC: Bump. Me and squirrel aren't the only ones in this mess, y'know ))