Fate of the Realm: Heroes of the West

[lantadors evil twin]

The stormy night drew in around the ancient elven city of Scarton. High in the elegant tower of the council building, nine elven mages stood around a scrying pool, using their combined power to try and see the cause of this unnatural storm. Slowly, as their magic energy charged the pool, a featureless face appeared, and they heard a voice speak to them.
“Each age must end, each race must fall, each hero must have their turn.
One age has passed, another must soon follow, none can stop the tide.
A new age is upon us, but who can say which? Who will follow the elves?
Darkness falls swiftly, look away from the sun, trust those whom you cannot trust.
Your age has ended, but your time is not over. Many futures still lie before you.
Let go your doubts, forgive the unforgivable, or darkness shall rule eternal.”
As the voice finished, the face faded and the pool became clear once again. Silence filled the chamber as the mages tried to comprehend the strange prophecy they had just witnessed.

Meanwhile, in the village of Ostberg, the stormy night had driven many a traveller to take refuge in the inn. The merry atmosphere inside had dispelled all fears about the darkness, and people had put aside their differences for a while. Elven musicians played their enchanting tunes, while dwarves and men traded tales of their exploits against the increasing numbers of orcs.
Despite the jolly atmosphere, in one corner of the inn, a group of soldiers sat talking to Rognar, the ruler of the local lands. The orcs had become more organised of late, and their raids more damaging. Something had to be done, and soon.
Suddenly, the tolling of a bell became audible over the noise of the inn, and abruptly silence descended. For a few moments, nobody moved, and then people reached for their weapons and ran for the door, answering the alarm.
Outside, they found that orcs were attacking the town. The walls had been breached in several places, and a seemingly unstoppable tide of the foul creatures poured into the town. Behind the attacking horde, orc shamans were using devastating magic, crushing the defenders on the wall with fireballs and stones falling from the sky.
Rallying the townsfolk around him, Rognar charged headlong into the orcs, determined that the town should not fall while he still drew breath.

The next day, a dull morning dawned over the smoking ruins of the town. The survivors were piling up the mangled bodies of the orcs and burning them, filling the air with a horrid stench. Rognar stood before the ruins of the inn and spoke to the crowd gathered before him.
“My people, how long will we tolerate this? How long will we let them destroy our homes, slaughter our families? I say it ends here! We cannot let the orcs take our lands, forcing us further and further south. There is nowhere left to go, but the elf lands. Who will fight with me? Who will help me retake the lands of our forefathers? Who is willing to fight, and die, to protect their family and friends from these accursed creatures? Who is with me?”

----------

Time to see if anyone is still interested in this lot

Basically, you have two choices. You can be an elf or dwarf and start in Scarton, or you can be an elf, dwarf or human and start in Ostberg.
If you really want another race, persuade me as to why I should allow it
Note that there are no humans in Scarton, not under any circumstances.

You should give a brief history of your character. You can either live in your starting town, or just be passing through at the wrong time. Please note that uberpoweful archmages will be smoted and reduced to piles of ash. You can be slightly above ordinary (a talented mage, expert swordsman etc) but nothing too powerful.
Also note that dwarf mages are rare, and that human mages are far weaker than elven mages.

Everyone must choose an alignment. You can be aligned to Good, Order or Chaos. Evil characters must persuade me as to why they would be helping the good guys.
Your alignment is a generalisation as to your attitude to life. Good people like to help others, give money to the poor etc. Chaotic people like to be free, they dislike unneeded laws, disagree with people who try to dominate others etc. Orderly people are the opposite of chaotic. They like everything to be structured, they dislike the idea of living without rules.
Note that your alignment doesnt have to be very strongly oriented in any particular direction. You can be almost neutral, with just a slight tendency towards your alignment.

In addition, mages must choose another alignment.
Elves: Earth, Air or Water
Dwarves: Earth, Fire or Water
Humans: Earth, Air, Fire or Water
Note that fire magic is offensive, earth is protective, water is healing and air is something else. All four can be used to do virtually anything, its just that they are better at some things than others.

There are no stats. You start off with basic stuff that would be appropriate to your character. You can find or buy more later if you want, but dont expect me to keep track of every last gold coin you earn.

Those of you starting in Ostberg should respond to Rognar's speech, those starting in Scarton should make their way to the Golden Sun tavern, but I will leave the reason for being there up to you.

To help with your characters, here are a few notes.
1. Elves do not get along very well with humans. They dont openly hate each other, but the elves consider themselves superior to humans, and the humans dont like the elves attitude.
2. The elves and dwarves are allied. They get along, but relations are a bit strained of late.
3. The dwarves and humans get along because they all love fighting orcs, drinking and boasting about their fights with orcs.

[Richpur]

A figure in a slightly dishevelled cloak pushes to the front of the crowd, shaking the hood back from his head; the water on the fabric trickling off down the back to mingle with the blood and ash on the ground. In the damp, still air the steely swish as the man draws his sword sounds as dull as the morning itself. Yet the sound itself seems to move the air, setting off a light breeze heading out in all directions from him.

“I am.” He states simply.

__________

Name: Richard Draçir
Race: Elf
Alignment: Order
Mage Alignment: Air
Equipment: Sword
Mixes strength and speed in an intriguing fusion of styles that while utterly logical according to the individual systems under which they occur, in combination tends to be totally unpredictable to anyone bar him. And if that doesn’t always prove enough, well that’s what magic is for is it not?

[AcidK]

Name: "Undead One"
Alignment: Neutral Chaotic (good ol' AD&D)
Second Alignment: -Neutral- (or more precisely, hated by most people)
Race: here's the tricky bit Once elven, now looking between mangled orc and rotting human
Mage Strengths:
Necromancy
Phantasm
Shadow-Magic

History:
A long time ago, the Undead One had a name, an elven name, that he had used in days long past. He was a learning mage back then and could not get the acceptance of the higher preists. Wreathed in anger and the usual elven attitude, the Undead One left the elven city and joined forces with Dark Mages, learning their ways and their magics in the hope to rival the preists. That was a long time ago, now the Undead One has learned too much for his own good, becoming undead himself, being neglected by almost everyone that sees him. He has no purpose now, his old anger settled, the Undead One is a wandering mercinary, looking for nothing but purpose... for a price.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

name: Morgoth Stoneskin
Race: Dwarf
Alignment: Chaotic, more neutral tough.
Occupation: Trainer

History: Morgoth is, and always has been, one of the more respected dwarven warriors, for the simple reason that he is one of the few that still use and teach the ancient ways of unarmed combat. for a dwarf, he is relatively slim, and smart. His grandfather is the one that once brought the warriorsarts of Judo and Wrestling to the human world, and Morgoth, several centuries later (dwarves do get old here too, right?) continues his grandfather's legacy, training those willing to learn in the ancient arts of self defence. unarmed combat is not his only skill tough, he did his time in the dwarven militairy, thus is fairly welltrained in the use of Battleaxes and Warhammers.
He has lived his life in Scarton, where he still resides, and has grown to be a respected, and even loved dwarf

[Killer-of-Lawye]

Name: Belosor Numandian
Race: Human
"Bah elfs. They think their so special. And the worse thing of all, their probably right."
Astral Alignment: Chaos (STRONGLY)
"Enough talk. Talking isn't going to make the skelitons dissapear. *charges into the cave*"
Elemental Alignment: Fire
"And we need to have lots of pitch."
"For the catapults?"
"No, to burn the outer city down when they get past the houses we pull infront of the gates."
"WE ARE NOT BURNING DOWN THE CITY!"
"Well, they're going to do it anyway."
Class: Mage(Sorcerer)
Skills:
Alchemy (ph33r teh sunrod making skillz!)
Magic (Duh.)
Dumb Luck (Probably his greatest ability of all)
Equipment:
Robes, a short sword, and some gold.

IC:
Belosor rushed to the front to head the mans call. How could anyone not fight fagainst the orcs, after seeing the horrors of last night. Even belosor, who knew nothing of these people still felt for them. Besides, he needed some excitment and adventure.

"I'll kill some orcs!"

[AcidK]

*The Undead One walked into the town of Orstberg and was amazed to find a mound of orcs burning to one side, the city devastated by the attack. People looked at him as if he was to blame, but the Undead One lowered his head and was about to turn away before a group of men appeared around him.*

"Who are you?" One man asked, sword already drawn.
"I am a mercinary travelor in search of nothing but work." The Creature underneath the ragged cloak replied. "I mean no hharm over your people, I am not paid yet."
"He lies!" Another man yelled behind him. "I say we kill him now!"
"For what purpossse?" The Undead One answered almost straight away. "I am here to find paid work, not to cause a hassle to the people. I have no intention of a fight but I will defend myself if necessssary."

[lantadors evil twin]

OOC

Firstly, a few notes so that you can react appropriatly and know stuff you really should know

1. The Dark Mages. While certain people who (unwittingly) know the historical outcome of whats about to happen, the dark mages are not yet known as such. With the exception of AcidK, nobody knows anything about any nasty evil mages.

2. The Undead. You do not know about the undead, they do not yet exist. On the other hand, any elves encountering the undead (who do not exist!) will instinctivly dislike them. The undead do not exist.

3. The Orcs. The orcs have been plaguing the nothern half of the elven lands (north of Scarton) for about ten years now. Since the human lands lie on the border between the north and south parts of the elven lands, the orcs have also been raiding human territory.

4. The Humans. There is no real human nation at present. There are four 'tribes' of humans, all living in an area known to the elves as the Westmark. There is a lot of infighting, and as such there has been no coordinated response to the orcs and much of the Westmark has been overrun.

5. The Elves. The elves control virtually all of the continent, although about two thirds of their numbers are in the lands south of Scarton. They are ruled by a council of mage-lords who are the most powerful mortal mages. They have been slowly teaching magic to the humans, but are somewhat reluctant to teach them powerful magics as they believe that humans will be their downfall.

6. The Dwarves. The dwarven empire stretches beneath the elven one. Where an elven city stands above ground, a dwarf city runs beneath it. The dwarven capital is Deephelm, beneath the e;ven city of Scarton. The orcs have overrun the tunnels in the eastern mountains, but have been contained there by the dwarves.

7. Anyone burning my nice cities down without permission will be smoted by a deity.

8. The Alliance. The Alliance of Elves and Dwarves was formed when the orcs first appeared, some five hundred years ago. Together, the two races managed to prevent their lands being overrun, and the orcs were eventually pushed back into the eastern mountains, where they are mainly contained to this day.
At the height of the alliance, the dwarves forged a sword, the finest they had ever crafted and it was imbued with powerful elven magic. It was intended to be a great weapon against the orcs, but neither race could agree over who would wield the sword. While being transported to Scarton, the party carrying it was ambushed and slaughtered. Both sides are suspicious that the other had something to do with this, and so relations between the allies have gradually worsened over the years since the end of the war.

Important People

Rognar Blackmane
Rognar is the ruler of the Ostmen, one of the four human tribes. His lands lie to the east, bordering with the Northmen to the north and the elves to the south and east. Further west are the Westmen.
Under his leadership, the Ostmen have transformed themselves from a rag-tag band of people, who survived the near-disastrous Great War of Westmark into a well developed society. They engage freely in trade with the dwarves, and the elves when they latter allow it.
He has also been responsible for a temporary cease-fire between the tribes, allowing them time to rebuild. He hopes that during this time, they can be united as a single force against the orcs, but is unsure as to how he will accomplish this.

Rualith Davion
Davion is a half-elven fighter, who wanders the lands north of Scarton. He strongly opposes the common view that the humans will be the elves downfall, and tries to encourage cooperation between the two races.
In human lands, he is welcomed by the Ostmen and Northmen, but the others distrust him and suspect he has ulterior motives. In elven lands he is popular amongst the common folk, but the elven council and many of the more powerful mages wish he would just dissapear. He is generally popular amogst the dwarves as they also agree that the humans are worthy allies.

More people will be added as they are introduced

Plot post to follow momentarily...

[lantadors evil twin]

Ostberg

As Rognar finishes speaking, and people begin pledging their support, a gentle breeze blows from the south, carrying away the stench of the dead and bringing with it the sweet smell of the flowers which fill the fields to the south. He smiles as each person steps forward, although inwardly he is dismayed as how few of the townsfolk are willing to fight, even after having their homes destroyed. When it seems as though no more will join him, he draws the group around him and speaks.
"Our first task must be to find out how the orcs are getting so far south. The dwarves built forts along the river which the Northmen used to hold the orcs back. It is possible that one has fallen and if so, it must be retaken. For now, I think we should make for Korryl, which lies a days march to the northeast. There, we can get supplies and rally more people to our cause."
He stops as he spots something to one side, and turns to see the group surrounding the undead one. Dropping his hand to his sword, he shouts to the group.
"You there! Lower your weapons! Any Ostman who harms a stranger without reason shall answer directly to me!"

Scarton

An unusual silence hangs over the main room of the Golden Sun tavern. Being an elven tavern, there were many mages present, and they could sense an unnatural stillness in the air, as though the spirit of life had been sucked from it. Their unease had made the rest of the patrons uneasy, as it was rare for so many mages to be worried while inside the magical protections of the city.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, and two hooded figures walk in without breaking pace. They stop at the bar and one of them turns to face the inquisitive crowd around them. Lowering his hood, he revealed the well known face of Rualith Davion. He spoke to the crowd.
"People of Scarton. I know many of you are unsure about what is happening, and I can do little to reassure you. I have just spoken with the king of Deephelm, and it appears as though their seers are in agreement with the elven council about recent events. A dark time is upon us, and the world is changing."
He paused, giving people time to take in what he had said.
"The council is blind. Their vision is clouded by their fear for their own survival. I have no such fear. We will survive this, but only if we act. I call those of you who wish this to end swiftly to stand with me now, and drive this darkness from our lands forever!"

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Morgoth sighed yet again as his pupils where late for their training. as usual, all but one were nowhere in sight, and as usual, he knew just where to get them. Nodding at his son, they both stood up from the ritual meditation before every lesson, and walked towards the Golden Sun Tavern. Strangely enough, none of his pupils where there. The common customers of the Tavern where tough, and he asked a few familiar faces where they were. The answers were all the same: "Our kin no longer has time for your lessons in selfcontrol and mental purity. a dark time is upon us all, we must prepare ourself, and defend our homes!"

just at that time, the doors were forcefully thrown open, and a figure walked in. He lowered his hood, to reveil his features. Features Morgoth recognised all to well, the features of the blessed Rualith Davion, a hero as far as Morgoth cared.

"People of Scarton. I know many of you are unsure about what is happening, and I can do little to reassure you. I have just spoken with the king of Deephelm, and it appears as though their seers are in agreement with the elven council about recent events. A dark time is upon us, and the world is changing."

Morgoth nodded, and fixated his attention on the halfelf, eager to hear more

"The council is blind. Their vision is clouded by their fear for their own survival. I have no such fear. We will survive this, but only if we act. I call those of you who wish this to end swiftly to stand with me now, and drive this darkness from our lands forever!"

slightly shocked by these strong words, but seeing the truth in them, Morgoth stepped forward.

"I shall aid you, lord Davion."

turning to his son, he said: "go home boy, and warn your mother. I will be gone for a while. You are the man of the house now, guard her well"

smiling gently, he watched his blood run off, knowing very well that he would rather join his father, but how could he? he was too young... barely able to write, the child had made his father very pride indeed, and had shown great promise in trainings, but to fare in real combat? the idea was both ridiculous and scaring. He still needed the father's guiding hand, and the mother's comforting embrace.

[Heiro]

Ok. If people can still join, im in. I've had trouble with a character.

Name: Celest Jovan
Race: Elven
Location: Scarton
Alignments: Chaos, Good

Being born the daughter of a strange coupling, Celest chose the road for her home from an early age. She quickly discovered her affinity to the earth, not to mention her skills as a talented woods'man' whilst travelling. Now, she wears a ragged deep green hooded cloak, and carries a soul greataxe, taken from her travelling companion for many years; a Dwarf going by the alias: Thorn. Given to her by him on his deathbed, she has treasured it ever since. Her reasons for travelling are unknown, but her belief is that fate guides her in whatever way it can, and such, led her to this tavern.

[IC]

Celest waits to see the shocked response to such a profound threat. When none comes, but a dwarf's, she smirks alittle.
No-one believes in hero's anymore
strangely, she turns to watch closer, sipping the pint glass of ale straight and quickly until the comforting sound of the foam against her sucking lips passes away. Slamming the glass onto the bar hard, he flips her cloak down, allowing her long blonde hair to glisten in the light. She strides are sure however, unfeminine in a way not many have come across.

"Those are strong words indeed."
She pauses, looking the man up and down quickly. He looks strong, confident, some might say powerful....
"I however... believe you. Fate has led me to believe, should i say..."
She thinks about it. Why else would she leave, why else would all she have dissappear. Rebirth. The fates act in strange ways. Bowing gracefully, she nods to Davion
"You have my axe, lord."

[Richpur]

Richard moves through the cluster of men building up around the newcomer, something murmuring softly, insinuating itself into the collective subconscious and causing them to step aside. After a few moments he steps into the empty space around the stranger and looked him up and down.

“You are no elf I have e’er seen, nor human, and you are too tall for a dwarf. You have the appearance of an orc, but not their countenance Pray, what are you?”

[Killer-of-Lawye]

Belosor taps his foot impatiently, scowling at the elfs flowery language.

"And, pay tell me, good sir, and other long winded nicitys. Do we have the time to stand around wondering who or what everone is when we need to march for the rest of the day to get to Korryl? I doubt it takes that much concentration to ask questions on the run."

Belosor then sighs, and turns to Rognar.

"Lead the way!"

[AcidK]

*The Undead One looks up at Richard and attempts a smile, each crack and grimance of appearance strained at the action. His speech was long and hissed a lot, each time a small spray of foul water trickled out between the gap that could be his mouth.*

II am what you may call ex-elf, or at leasst elf-kin... but my tiesss have broken thheir. I hunnt orcsses, a merccinary iff you will. I travel alone ffor work, ssometimess for ssurvival. I am here becausse you may nned my hhelp... orcsses grow in number, but organissation iss not their sstrong point. I sseek to find out who leadss them, but I cannot do thiss alone...

I, as well, am sorry about joining late, but i just joined.

Name- Cryo
Race - Untimer - a branch of elf, they evolved diffrently, living in the cold lands far to the north. They where slightly more powerfull, but where born less often, so they died off. Only a few survive.
Alignment - neutral
Powers - Great ability with cold(think Iceman From X-men) and not that bad with a katana

Walking tword the town, Cryo smelled the stench of decay. He looked more like a man than an elf, as the rest of the Untimer, retaining only the pointed ears, those being less pronounced. His skin was as the color of snow, literally. His hair was crimson with orenge stripes, in the shape of lightning. The red jem in his katana gleemed at his belt. He would be the rightfull heir to his people, had they lived on.
He walked about town, and found the center of all the commotion. "Hail, are you the one called RIchard, I have heard of you from the townspeople. I am looking for something to spend the rest of my life on, and have decided to deticate it to the good of the land". I wish to join you on your quest.

[Rhyspar]

Name: Faile
Race: Human
Alignment: Orderly Earth
Age: 28
Carries: In her backpack she has a few changes of clothes, as well as a brush, a leather pouch containing various trinkets, and some handy things like flynt and salted pork. Faile's purse hangs off to the side of her belt, a cheap sword hanging in its scabbard to the left.
Faile also has a spellbook, and a set of very well padded, vials. Each full of a different mysterious liquid or powder.

[lantadors evil twin]

Cryohorizon

Originally Posted by Cryohorizon

Race - Untimer - a branch of elf, they evolved diffrently, living in the cold lands far to the north. They where slightly more powerfull, but where born less often, so they died off. Only a few survive.

If you really want another race, persuade me as to why I should allow it

Originally Posted by Cryohorizon

Powers - Great ability with cold(think Iceman From X-men) and not that bad with a katana

1. Cold magic is generally Water magic, so I will allow it.
2. Elves do not use katanas. They use longswords.

Originally Posted by Cryohorizon

He walked about town, and found the center of all the commotion. "Hail, are you the one called RIchard, I have heard of you from the townspeople. I am looking for something to spend the rest of my life on, and have decided to deticate it to the good of the land". I wish to join you on your quest.

Please re-read the thread. Richard does not have a quest, he is joining one just like you should be.

Rhyspar

Welcome aboard. Now you just need to post your arrival in Ostberg or whatever.

Everyone Else

Will postage tommorrow, bit busy right now. Do try to get along, I would hate to have to smite you all...hmm...actually....

[Rhyspar]

Faile sat in the common room, tearing off a chunk of brown bread she sopped up the remains of her stew. This was her third night at the inn, she'd been too lazy to head on to the next town and besides in these times who wanted to travel alone? So far however, no one had been heading back in the direction of her home town but she had enough money on her to be content to wait a few more days.

Today was a cheery one in the Inn, many people were in there, some local, some not. Faile grinned at some regulars and waved. Looking around the room she smiled to herself, everyone was enjoying themselves, there was much laughing and shouting. Finishing off her plate she went to return it to the kitchen, weaving her way through the crowded tables and people, yelling out greetings to those she knew. Off to her right she saw a sturdy old dwarf arm wrestling a young man, with blonde hair falling into his eyes. The dwarf easily overcame him and some money was exchanged between some of the people that had been watching the match.

As she handed off her plate to one of the maids Faile overheard a man she managed to put the name Rognar to, talking to a group of what appeared to be soldiers. He was complaining about the alarming ammount of recent orc attacks. Faile paused and listened for abit but after her yawns reached the volume where they were drowning out all talk in the room she decided she was better off going to bed. It wasn't like Ragnors opinions were new or anything, but maybe since he had pull(he *was* the local ruler after all) the talk would actually turn into something more...Although Faile doubted it.

A few hours later . . .

Cries and the clashing of steel upon steel, awoke Faile with a start. She sat upright in bed and immediatly went to grab the nearest thing to her, a candle stick holder. Faile rolled off the bed and into a crouch beside it. Blinking a few times she waited to re-orientate herself, and gradually began to recognize words among the screaming and yelling that was going on beneath her window. Stil clutching the candle stick holder she crawled over to the window, and slowly raised herself enough so that she could peer over the edge.

The first thign she saw was a great big huge orc, bashing a mans head open with his club. Faile ducked down again, leaning against the wall she began to hyperventilate.

There aren't orcs here, there can't be orcs here, this isn't how things work, i'm dreaming, i'm going to look again and it will just have been my imagination

Reluctantly, she rose again, this time standing up fully and looked down through the window. There, a horrifying site greeted her. Fighting was going on everywhere, mothers were protecting children, homes were being torched by great Orc Mages, and the noise was overwhelming. Fighting back the feeling of naseu Faile fought to remain calm. The first thing to do, she told herself. Was to get dressed.

Slowly feeling her way back to the bed, she felt around for her neatly folded clothes in her pack. Dressing quickly she made sure to have all of her stuff organized, and beside her. Remembering that those mages were shooting out fireballs, she decided it was a safer bet to bring her bag with her, as she didn't know if she'd ever be able to return for it. Re attaching he sword she crept quietly down the hall, and some stairs. The Inn was almost entirely empty. Thankfully the 'empty' included orcs.

She hit the common room, and seeing the door was flung wide open, kept close to the wall so she would not be seen by those outside.

Damnit this is NOT supposed to happen to me, i can't fight, i never could. Head on head combat is something I am not supposed to be thrown in to! Why couldn't it have been something subtle like a evil doer that needed poisoning!

Faile had just decided to chicken out and was stealithy moving away from the doorframe to go hide up in her room when she heard a young childs voice cry out for their father. Jumping quickly to the doorway she saw a young girl, who couldn't be more then 4 or 5 running after her father, how she could tell which one was her dad in the myriad of people Faile couldn't tell but one thing she did know what that whoevers father that was would be in mourning pretty damn soon unless she got that kid out of the way.

Figuring it was the least she could do Faile darted out from the Inn, scooping the girl up in one hand and covering her mouth with the other, lest she cry out and bring attention to them. Just as she was making an about face to run back to the Inn, one of the Orc Mages spells got it, and she saw it start to burn. Frantically looking around she headed in the only direction that seemed safe, farther into town, away from the fighting. Struggling to keep a hold of her pack, and the kid, Faile raced through the streets, zig zagging this way and that before finally finding a cellar door in a backalley. She lowered herself and the girl in and, seeing the wine bottles everywhere, realized this must be the cellar of the brewery she had noticed earlier. Sitting down in the darkest corner she could find Faile finally took her hand off the kids mouth.

After many a minute of calming the child down Faile introduced herself and tried to explain that the little girls daddy was busy at the moment, and that she had to stay here and hide while he rescued the town. Faile drew her sword and leaving it out of the way, but in grabbing distance, told the child stories of warriors and dragons, and brave knights rescuing beautiful princesses until eventually the little girl fell asleep in her arms. Keeping a sharp ear out for any sounds of someone approaching, Faile cradled her into the night.

later on that morning

After returning the little girl, her name was Iva Faile found out on waking, to her mother, she walked back through the ruins of the city trying to avoid looking at the many corpses piled in the street, until she reached the inn. What was left of the Inn atleast, It was completely destroyed.

Whew I'm really glad I brought my bag out with me last night

Her attention turned to Rognar who was making a speech. After listening to his urgings to bring a band together to bring up an alliance against the orcs, she stood silently. She watched a group of what appeared to be muscle-headed men volunteer to join Rognor on his journey.

They'll never make it anywhere. A bunch of guys, with no female guidance! They'll be fighting within and hour. Well, I guess I have nothing better to do..Not like I have any family waiting for me back home, if there even is a home anymore, how am I to know wether the orcs have gotten to it like they did to this one or not...

After her thoughts trailed off, Faile startled herself by stepping through the crowd, excusing herself to the people she was bumping out of the way. Looking at her feet she saw them carrying her forward, it was like they had taken a life of their own. Startled she realized she had reached the front, and everyone was looking at the girl who had made such a disturbance.

"I'd be honoured to help you on your mission" the ever polite Faile said as she reached Rognor, surprising even herself. She did a awkward half curtsey, half bow and stood straight and tall, waiting to see what the response would be from the man in front of her.

[Richpur]

Richard is mid way through asking the wrinkled old creature before him where he had come from when another voice volunteers. This in itself would not be enough to distract him from this most unusual of elves, but the pitch is too high for the racial inflections. Not elven, nor dwarven, yet female and obviously not one who tries to forget the fact; an unusual candidate for an army of any description. He raises an eyebrow at the conclusion before turning round and looking across the clearing in the crowd stretching between the wrinkled one and Rognar, his sight confirms his deduction. The young lady stands in the empty space, a sword by her side, but by the looks of the wear on the grasp it is not used intensively, and the slight fraying on the binding suggests that it would not last long if it was called upon to do so.

"Greetings," he calls back across the crowd, motioning for the wrinkled one to follow him back towards Rognar, satisfied that this creature is (at least for the moment) on the right side.

[lantadors evil twin]

Scarton

Quiet murmering filled the tavern as the various groups of people talked over what Davion had said. Despite his reputation, it seemed few were willing to openly defy the council, as he suggested he was about to do. There are though, a few who step out to join him, and he leads them outside so that they can talk in relative privacy, since the streets are all but deserted.
"I suspect we will not be welcome in the city once word of this gets out, so I suggest we move quickly. The danger that approaches cannot be seen by any means. All the divining magic of the elves and dwarves is being countered, and all we get are strange riddles and prophecies."
He paused, then turned towards the second cloaked figure.
"You should rally the men of the westmark, we will need them. The northern borders have been overrun, but the orcs will find the ostmen more difficult to rout than the northmen."
The figure nodded silently, then turned and vanished into an alley beside the tavern. Turning back to the group, Davion continued.
"There are legends which speak of a mystical pool in the crystal caves. While many think that legends are simply stories, I have seen this pool myself. Unfortunately, the way to it was blocked by an earthquake some fifty years ago, and so we must find another way."
He thought for a moment, and then concluded.
"Gather what equipment you think you will need, then meet me at the north gate in an hour. I know safe routes to the crystal caves, but we will have to search them for a way to this pool."
[ooc: Deal with anything you need to do in the city then report to the north gate. You won't be back here for a while, so don't forget anything]

Ostberg

Rognar looked over as Faile spoke, and smiled. He then gathered the, now slightly larger, group together again and spoke.
"While I am sure some of you are after blood for what happened last night, I must remind you that you are still bound by the laws of my land until we reach the northern borders. No matter how much you dislike someone, if you harm them without reason, I shall deal with you myself."
He gave everyone a few moments to absorb this, then continued.
"Now, unless anyone has any objections, I suggest we leave."
There are no objections, and so he collects his equipment and leads the group out of the town.

After a few hours march, it begins to rain, turning the dirt road into a muddy trail. Gradually, the sky darkens as thick clouds gather overhead, and the distant rumble of thunder begins to grow louder. In under an hour, a storm breaks around the group, with a howling wind almost drowning out the sound of the pouring rain, punctuated with flashes of lightning and the crash of thunder. In the near darkness, the group has difficulty seeing, even the elves keen eyesight is all but useless.
Then, without warning, there is a scream from the back of the group, a horrible blood curdling cry of terror. Turning, you see nothing, until a flash of lightning reveals the outlines of three creatures. One of them is holding the limp corpse of the unfortunate person who was at the back of the group, and the others are advancing menacingly. As they approach, you sense an aura of evil surrounding them, an almost tangible sense of pure malevolence which drives them onwards. Drawing his sword, Rognar cries out a battlecry and charges towards them.

[AcidK]

*The storm was becomming darker and unbearable, even for the Undead One as he hated rain and stormy weathers, but the mud and the filth on his bear feet gave him a bit of comfort as he troddled along. The Undead One heard the sound first, being second to last in the group, turnign slowly and smiling as he noticed the creatures now in front of him.*

Aaah, fressh meeat...

*Suddenly the vile necromancer raised his staff, the limp corse flashing to life and beginning to fight, although rather slowly (stiff musclular structure due to shock of collapsed brain activity). He took a few steps backwards, unable to cast another spell for a while when this one was in action.*

Wwweeee have a problemmm...

[Rhyspar]

Faile stood in shock as the, things, whatever they were. It was hard to see in this light, approached the group.

damn i'm glad i wasn't near the back

Suddenly the corpse they were holding behind jerking, and twisting, barely fighting back a scream Faile jumped backwards, before realizing it was a spell that odd looking thing that was travelling with them, was casting. She quickly drew her sword, at the same time realizing she only just barely knew how to use it. As others ran to fight against the evil creatures, Faile dropped to the ground, throwing her pack off her shoulder.

Fumbling with the drawstrings she finally undid the knot with trembling fingers, glancing up every second to make sure she was still in no immediate danger. Quickly she pulled the spellbook from the bag. Flipping through the pages Faile frantically scanned the writing.

just a simple fire spell..all i need is a plain ordinary simple little fire spell for abit of a spark

Yes, there it was.holding the book open with her knee she quickly unwrapped several of the vials, as well as taking out an empty one. Mixing 3 or 4 liquids and a black powder into the empty vial she double checked the words for the fire spell and corked the glass container.

Quickly she re wrapped everything and gently placed all back into her bag, lacing it back up. Fighting was still going on all around her. Standing, Faile set herself and began to run towards the front ranks, towards the nearest of the creatures, already beginning to whisper the words she would need for her spell.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Morgoth sighed as he tought about what he'd done, as he walked the route home. He'd be getting it from the misses now...

Once home, his lovely wife Morgana (:P) was waiting already, his son beside her. Contrairy to what he expected, she was not holding any solid objects, and did not seem intending to smite him. He approached, and explained what he had done. She just nodded, hugged him, and begged that he would return alive. The packing began, and Morgoth saddled his pony. His rockclimbinggear, battleaxe from his time in the army, chainmail, also from his time in the army, his magical flint'n'mail (a friggin' lighter, mmkay?) a pipe, a bag of tobacco, a bag of pipeweeth, rope, dry food, ale, clothes, a maginfyingglass and his rockworkinggear, salt, a tent and backpack. He even took his swimminggear with him. He said goodbye to his wife and child, and left towards the north gate

[Heiro]

Disappearing into alley swiftly, Celest moves with a purpose. Entering another street she barges quickly through the crowds, heading for a well known supply store. Having heard about this from her friends in the woods and its renoun. Pushing into the hard oak doors, she quickly collects herself, before looking for things to purchase.

Around half an hour later, she leaves the store, carrying a pack containing provisions, some fine thread, a needle, a collection of small ropes and a larger rope. Tossing it over her shoulder, she heads off swiftly toward the gates.

[Richpur]

Richard looks back with a rather misplaced air of calm, almost disdainful of this most chaotic intrusion.

"Well really." he says in an exasperated tone and draws his sword, absent-mindedly amplifying the swish of steel on steel into a monotonic clash of thunder. With streaks of lightning reflected is his blade from some ethereal storm, Richard charges towards the creatures, shouting a three part harmonic sequence in C minor, presumably intended as some sort of war cry.

As he approaches the first two creatures Richard ducks under a flailing hand and dives into a roll, coming up into an almost seamless resumption of his previous gait. With the damp and mud clinging to his cloak he grumbles about the mess that roll made, muttering the words to an ancient incantation seldom used by even the most powerful of mages – a dry-cleaning spell. A brief torrent of wind hits Richard as he runs, swirling through his voluminous cloak and peeling the dirt out of his clothes just before he gets to the third assailant.

On reaching the creature Richard becomes aware that while Rognar and the rest of the band are merrily hacking away at the beasts behind him, Richard’s only assistance with this particular foe seems to be coming from an animated corpse, not the best of assistants, but at least one of them hasn't got to worry about dying.

Luckily the sudden tendency of this corpse to fight back seems to be rather puzzling the creature. Obviously not the brightest of beings it stands staring at the corpse that is now looking vaguely like a thunderbird’s puppet on steroids. Richard takes advantage of this distraction and dashes in from the other direction, slashing his blade across the creature’s ankles, the sharp double twang as the Achilles tendons shoot up the legs is followed shortly by a rather different type of bewilderment as the creature windmills its arms, trying to stay upright. As Richard darts back from the thrashing creature a slow groaning thud proves that the attempt was somewhat less than successful.

[Rhyspar]

Leaping out of the way as one of the monsters fell beside her Faile began to change her direction, looping around one of the beasts she finished her incantation, resulting in a spark upon the cork.

Quickly she flicked her wrist, sending the vial flying at an amazing speed, towards the nearest creature. It hit near the collarbone, shattering into many glass shards, the liquid inside caught alight upon the now flaming cork. A small explosion filled the air beside the monsters neck.

Faile continued to run, dancing away from the scene she looked back to survey her work. The beasts shoulder was nearly unrecognizable, mangled from the heat and force. Splinters of glass were wedged into its open skin, and nearly the entire side of its right face was destroyed, including its eye.

Realizing she had probably done all she could for the party - by the time she could of mixed another, the warriors of the group would probably have taken care of things by then, Faile sprinted back towards her belongings, scooping up her bag again and swinging it over her shoulder.

[lantadors evil twin]

Road to Korryl

The third of the creatures, holding the struggling corpse, falls to the ground as its leg is wounded. Even as its the ground, however, the world seems to momentarily fracture, as if for a mere instant, a multitude of possible futures overlapped. Then, the creature slumps to the ground, quite dead, and the corpse falls to the ground beside it.

The second creature lets out a thunderous roar, a mixture of pain and rage, as Faile's spell burned away its shoulder. It raised its still useful arm, and a shimmering wave of energy shot forth, knocking its assailants to the ground. Ignoring them, it leapt forwards, seeking the mage responsible for its pain.

The last creature was not faring well. Although stronger than any man, and armed with claws that could rend steel, it was outnumbered by more agile opponents. Slowly, they hacked through its armoured hide, and finally a lucky blow pierced deep into the creature, and it slumped to the ground.

The corpse chose this moment to sit upright, no longer the twitching mess it had been before. Its eyes glowed, an eerie blood red light. The undead one could tell that his spell had been broken, the creature was no longer his to command. Drawing its sword, the corpse advanced on the party.

Scarton

The small group has assembled before Davion arrives, exactly on time. Satisfied that everyone is accounted for, he leads them along a narrow path which follows the Great River. After a few hours, the gentle plains give way to rolling hills, and an hour later the group has reached the edge of the Eastern Mountains. The only way forwards is through a dark valley, surrounded by dangerous peaks which soar skywards, as if trying to reach the heavens themselves. Some of the group draw weapons, well aware that they are now inside orc territory, and thus in danger of being attacked without warning.
Midway along the valley, Davion halts the group. A narrow chasm lies just ahead, about half the width of the valley itself. There are many ledges on the chasm walls, and a cave entrance is clearly visible on one of them. He turns to the group.
"This is the first entrance to the caves. For those who can make the climb, it is probably the easiest and safest. There are other entrances, but to reach them we will need to enter orc caves, and I have no idea what the orcs have been up to recently. Anyone who wishes to use this entrance should head north until they reach the river cave, then east to the stone door. The door leads into the orc caves where the rest of us will rejoin you."
He pauses for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
"Normally I would not split the group like this, but the stone door can only be opened from this side, which is why the orcs havent overrun these caves yet. If the door is not opened by the time the rest of the group gets there, we are likely to fall to overwhelming numbers of orcs."

[Zappa Tenderlea]

I've got climbing gear, and have the rocks in my blood... if need be, I can venture in alone, or with a small band of good and silent men, so your group can remain strong enough to hack your way trough... we can open it up for you...

[Heiro]

"I agree with the dwarf. Although the climb would be easy, my Axe is best placed where it can slow down the enemy. I will head toward the Orc Caves."

Celest shoulders her axe and looks expectantly to see how many people are following her.

[AcidK]

Okay... that wass not ssuppossed to happen...

*The undead one dives out of the way and smacks the corpse with his staff.*

Knew I sshould have ressearched more...

[Rhyspar]

Stopping in a gaurded crouch Faile's eyes wildly search the pathway, frantically trying to get a hold of whats happening. Passing over shadows and trees they come to rest upon the battle going on in front of her. A feeling of relief passes through her body as she realizes that two of the creatures have fallen to the warriors swords. This moment of peace is quickly stolen as a sickening site greets her.

Eyes wide Faile slowly stands up in shock as the corpse of a man she had just set out with a few hours before begins to draw it's sword. The mangled body not just jerking around now, but walking on its own; It's eyes blank. Faile fought back the bile rising in her throat and took a step backwards, her eyes fixated in horror on the deformed figure.

[AcidK]

*The undead one dived out of the shadow where he had previously dived into, his staff now glowing as he performed a quick spell. He landed between Faile and the corpse, letting out an unholy ball of darkened flame into the corpse.*

Iff you want to live, ffight!

[Richpur]

Richard looks at the creature he had just laid low through the fractured expanse of futures as the life drains away. Moments after it is finally still the lifeless human corpse becomes significantly less lifeless and dashes off, eyes glowing a deep sullen red. Richard looks down at the creature, suddenly a lot less reassured by it’s stillness and starts hacking away at it’s neck. After a few hard strokes the head parts company with its mangled stump of an attachment, seeping a sticky black syrup onto the ground.

“One.” Richard says to himself, then a noise nearby makes him look up; another of the creatures is being hacked apart by several men as it lies on the ground, seemingly dead already. The ground before Richard is strewn with the struggling forms of the rest of the other men, trying to get their feet back under them. And beyond them the corpse advances on two figures, the wrinkled old one and the smaller, younger, form of the girl - quite a contrast. As the corpse almost negligently bats aside a burning mass of darkness with one hand Richard focuses on the last remaining creature, seemingly unnoticed by the rest of the group.

The remaining creature bends down from its full height of a little over ten feet and positions it’s head a few inches in front of Faile’s face, obscuring the corpse from view behind a massive expanse of hair and cracking leathery skin. From the centre of the face two eyes glare at her, one a pure black, glistening darkly; the second a pitted and charred mess, oozing an oily ichor down the creature’s cheek. It roars, mouth gaping to show rows of pointed teeth, thick saliva webbed across them, fluttering in the colossal bellow.

The roar trails off into a puzzled growl and the remaining eye seems to focus far off into the distance as it pulls up suddenly. The creature lets out a harsh whimper and begins to move its arms up, but the movement never completes. With a last gargled cry it slumps to the ground, toppling over onto the mud mere inches from Faile. The creature’s head lies face down in the dirt; a sword embedded in the back, quivering slightly, a metallic warble waving in the wind.

“Two.”

[AcidK]

*The Undead One has his full attention on the corpse, at this point he begins using all he can to regain control and un-animate it, or at least make it fall apart somewhat. The corpse suddenly begins to flail at him, but the Undead One thrusts his stave forward, a sudden murmer and a burst of dark flame erupts, from the tip of the stave, forcing the corpse to fly backwards into the mud, now burning with an unholy flame.*

Dark Magesses, alwayss competetive...

[Rhyspar]

Iff you want to live, ffight!

The sound of the Undead one's voice jerked Faile out of her hysteria, back in reality she found her view to be completely blocked by what, she could not tell. Eyes frantically searching for a hold she could use to make sense of the leathery looking green in front of her. Finally they rested upon a horrifying site, charred oozing flesh, the flesh of the monster she had attacked moments earlier.

A scream welled up in her throat and she opened her mouth to yell but nothing came out, opening and closing her mouth like a fish the creature roared. A pungent stench rolled over her as the monsters saliva sprayed. Faile screwed her eyes tightly shut and willed herself away, and prepared to die. Suddenly the roar turned to a much different sound, almost a whimper although it was impossible for Faile to believe the monster capable of making such a noise, and a dull thud was heard.

Almost afraid to open her eyes she did. Right away she saw Richard, he was standing about thirty feet away, arm extended. As her gaze dropped to the ground, Faile saw why. A sword was embedded deep in the monsters back. Weak with relief Faile's knees buckled, her last sight before collapsing being Richards mouth, saying something she could not hear. It looked like "two", and with that Faile's eyes closed, mind surrending to darkness.

[lantadors evil twin]

Road to Korryl

The corpse is rapidly consumed by the flame, but as it burns, its tortured, inhuman screams seem to claw at your very souls.
With the threat dealt with, Rognar begins checking on the group. Three people are dead, and Faile appears to have passed out, but otherwise everyone is alive and well.
Guessing that this was no accidental meeting, he gathers the group and speaks.
"It appears as though someone is taking an interest in out progress. These beasts are not natural, they cannot have been here by accident. We must move on swiftly, and be alert for more trouble."

The Crystal Pass

[ooc: bah! some people can't take a hint!]

Two of the men with Davion decide to go with Morgoth, down into the cave below. The rest of the group, with Davion and Celest, say their farewells and continue on towards the later caves.

The Catacombs
After descending into the chasm, you pass into what appears to be an ancient crypt. The walls are decorated with faded murals and ancient runes. The runes do not appear to be either elven or dwarven, so their meaning is lost on you. Perhaps it is some ancient race, lost before the great war against the orcs.
After an hour or so of climbing along twisted tunnels, you reach a cave with a fast flowing river running through it. A rockfall shows where a tunnel once left to the east, but it has been buried for a long time now. The only other exits, other than the southern tunnel you entered by, are a hole in the roof, some fifty feet above you, and a tunnel to the north.
Before you can decide which way to go, you hear the sickening sound of flesh and bone being crushed. Turning, you see what appears at first to be an oversized orc, until you realise it is an ogre. One of your two companions is now lying slumped against the wall, his chest smashed in, while the other is drawing his sword, and backing away from the creature.

The Orc Caverns
It takes a few hours to find a suitable entrance into the caves, although you pass several which have orcs who watch you pass but, surprisingly, ignore you. Entering the chosen cave, you quickly see signs of orc habitation, broken bones and equipment, rusty armour, a few skeletons here and there. The tunnels slope rapidly down, and you reach a large cave. As the front runners of the party reach the middle, there is an ominous rumble, and a metal door drops down over each of the entrances. Then, a hissing sound makes itself heard as some sort of gas begins filling the area.

[AcidK]

Wwe are being watcheded... we musst be carefful where we tread!

*The Undead One lifts Flail up and places her onto his huntched back, carrying her along and looking no more strained than before.*

Letss move now, wassted time iss not an opttion.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Morgoth growled as he shouted at the man to stand back a bit.. he'd handle this...

he knew the Ogre would simply crush the man and use the sword as a toothpick... to fight an ogre, one needs to use it's power against him, not attempt to overpower it. He calmly walked forward, and waited for the ogre to strike. He'd then jump over the arm, grab hold of it, and pull himself forward while aiming his foot at the creature's plexus (chestbone, the one where all ribs come together, one of those pressurepoints where, when hit hard there, all air is thrusted out of the lungues and slightly dazes)

[Heiro]

Celest looks anxiously toward the doorways.
Blocked...
Turning her attention to the gas, she takes one smart step: stopping her breathing. Regulating her bodily functions on limited oxygen is always difficult, and as such, she decides to avoid the movement, and trust in luck for this situation. Lowering her Axe, she waits to see what unfolds.
The men around her drop down like flies, however they did not seem to be coughing. Feeling the burn in her chest now, She heaves her breath out, and sucks in a large mouthful of gas. Within minutes, she slumps down into a heap of unconsciousness, allowing the welcoming blackness to overcome her systems...

[Richpur]

Richard puts one foot on the back of the creature’s skull and takes the hilt of his sword in both hands. He takes one deep breath and heaves, just managing to pull the tip loose. Looking at the rather foul concoction on the blade Richard’s face pulls into a slight involuntary expression of distaste and he wipes the black blood off on the body of one of the fallen, apologising for the insult to the man’s spirit.

He looks on as the wrinkled one picks up Faile with scarcely a noticeable effort and wonders at this unusual strength in one so old. Then he remembers the way in which this old man had caused a corpse to rise up and keep going and his apparent youthfulness comes into a slightly more coherent context. As the remaining members of the party trudge off along the mud strewn path Richard watches them for a few moments before following.

“Wish I’d brought my horse.”

[lantadors evil twin]

Road to Korryl

The sun is sinking behind the hills as the party finally reaches Korryl. Although fairly large by human standards, it pales by comparison to the vast cities of the dwarves and elves. Still, it is a sanctuary from the darkness outside, at least for a while.
Rognar stops the group at the gates and speaks.
"Be on your guard here. The city is full of northmen, so watch your tongues or you could end up losing them. Find shelter for the night, and gather what supplies you think you will need. Meet me at noon outside the Temple of Sera. From there, we will march north to the river, and find out how the orcs are entering our lands."
So saying, he turned and walked into the city.

The Catacombs

Although immensly strong, the ogre is hardly a shining example of intelligence, and fails to spot the attack in time to avoid it. It stumbles backwards, gasping for air. It fumbles for a rusty axe swinging from its belt, and manages to grasp it as your companion lunges forwards with his sword. The thrust cuts deeply into the ogres side, but the swing of its axe slices the man in two. Still struggling to breath, it turns its attention back to Morgoth, seeming to ignore the gaping wound in its side.

Somewhere Underground

Celest awakes in a small room, with a single metal door blocking the only entrance. It appears to be some sort of prison cell, and the skeleton on the floor does not bode well. Luckily, she still seems to be carrying her gear.
After a few minutes, the rusty lock squeaks as it is unlocked, then the door creaks and groans as it is forced open and a small orcish creature ambles in, balancing several crude bowls filled with some sort of yellow sludge. It is apparently surprised to find that Celest is awake, and almost drops the pile of bowls as it fumbles for an odd looking container hanging from its belt.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Morgoth, knowing time was not on his side, sprinted towards the ogre, calculating his jump, and waited for it to swing it's axe towards him. wether the ogre attacked vertical or horizontal was of utmost importance here... in case of a vertical attack, he sidestepped the axe, so it would cut into the ground while Morgoth aimed a chop at the ogre's arm, at the height of his elbow, but the other side, while performing a roundhouse kick at the same location as before, pushing what little air was left in the ogre's body out, and breaking his arm. in case of a horizontal attack, he jumped over the axeblade, and landed a flying kick on the ogre's face, sending it sprawling into the wall, as he grabbed hold of the axehandle, hopefully getting it out of the beast's grip, and if not, pulling himself along with it, enabling him to send a chop at the creature's neck before he jumped back off. then again, he stood ready, and anticipated the next move

[AcidK]

*The Undead One looked up at the gates and a small frown kept on his face. He was never one to like northmen, a long history about them could be named, but he never liked to share his memories. Instead he decided to hide his face a little from the general public.*

Letss make our vissit calmm and without a wword out of placce, thesse northmenn are quick to rreact.

[Heiro]

Acting on the moment, Celest swings her axe with some skill from her belt. A small smirk comes across her face as the orc is caught up reaching, in suprised haste, for its belt.
Now we go to work
She leaps forward on her left foot. her mind still drowsy from the drug, not to mention the other effects of being on a cold floor. And what of her companions? A simple trap surely couldn't of killed them all...

Her mind flashes back to the instant. He orc thing begins to find some composure, as she closes the last of the gap and steps right into him, shoving him from his feet , into an unbalanced wobble. Kicking him with her following foot, she immediately drops down next to him and puts her axe to his throat.

"Where am I, and how do I get out?

[Rhyspar]

Letss make our vissit calmm and without a wword out of placce, thesse northmenn are quick to rreact.

The Undead one's quiet, hissing voice brought Faile back to reality with a snap. Her body immediatly went rigid and she pushed herself off and onto the ground in one quick fluid movement. Feet hitting earth she stood completely still for a moment, re assessing herself to her surroundings. Her momentary fear left quickly as Faile realized that she must of fainted. Soon after that conclusion entered her mind she also realized that she had very rudely, jumped off of the Undead One's back rudely, after he had apparently been so kind as to carry her all the way to what appeared to be Korryl.

"Oh, so sorry!" Faile was quick to apologize, "I must of fainted back there, must of looked like an idiot. I don't usually do that, but i'm not used to being in the middle of things like that. I guess i'll have to get used to it though," she nervously grinned at the Undead One. Inwardly Faile berrated herself for her show of weakness during a fight. As she lectured herself in her head a thought occured to her, "Who killed that creature for me? I must thank them, I stood no chance if they had gotten me. I saw someone afterwards, before I, well, you know...but I'm not sure who it was"

Awkwardly shifting her weight Faile looked around at the group of warriors, some already beginning to head off into town, no doubt searching for accomodations. Smiling at a few who's eye she caught she twisted her head around, looking for the one who saved her.

[AcidK]

Iff we want to keep movving, I ssuggesst we do not sstand here ffor long. Wwe are hhere for a quick vissit, then wwe leavve. I do not wwant to be here ffor more than iss necccesssary.

*With these words, the Undead One nodded at Faile, lifting his staff and began to hobble into the city of Korryl, making sure not to attract to many people and hiding his features almost completely from sight. He went in search for an alchemist shop for a few supplies, namely wormwood (Abynthia) and a few samples of saltpeter (Gunpowder), hoping there was some anywhere within the city.*

[lantadors evil twin]

[ooc: can't post now, but I haven't forgotted you all will try to post sometime this week ]

[lantadors evil twin]

Somewhere Underground

The orcish creature spits out a string of orcish curses, then answers in clumsy elvish.
"No way out! You ugrats now! No run or hurt you!"
A little more pressure with the axe makes it more cooperative, after another string of curses.
"No way out! No way out! Magic thing closed now, only way deeper. Stoneguard that way, you not go, you Ugrats, mage no like Ugrats things near Stoneguard."
You also coax out a few rough directions. The cells extend to the west, but the remainder here are empty. A tunnel leads northwards towards the orc caves, with a side branch east towards this Stoneguard. The other prisoners are scattered throughout the orc caves.

The Catacombs

The ogre swings its axe down in a powerful arc, with more than enough force to cleave an armoured knight in two. Missing you completely, the axe hits the floor with a resounding CRASH which echoes around the cave. The crudely made axe blade shatters, scattering across the cavern floor. Your counter-attack stuns the ogre for a few moments, and its arm breaks with a sickening crunch.
After it recovers, it wraps its fist around a medallion it is wearing, and chokes out a few words, then suddenly vanishes. Although you cannot see it, you hear it stumbling and choking as it flees down the northern tunnel.

Korryl - The Undead One

Although the northmen are disdainful of alchemy and magic, the city boasts a sizeable dwarf population and you eventually find a small alchemist tucked away in an alley. As you enter, you see a tall cloaked figure hand the owner a purse of coins, then he galnces at you and departs swiftly through the rear exit.
The dwarf, dropping the purse on a table at the back of the store, welcomes you and shows you his wares. He has all manner of alchemical supplies and some magical trinkets as well. He also explains about a few items he has that are somewhat rarer.
He starts by showing you a handful of red dragon scales.
"Firstly, I have these dragon scales. Hasn't been a dragon for nigh on a thousand years of course, but rumour has it that the scales can be used to emulate draconic powers. These ones are red, and supposedly allow you to make jets of flame."
Putting the scales away, he pulls out a large eye, preserved in a jar.
"This is the eye of an ogre. With a few other ingredients, it can make a powerful potion, enabling you to see in total darkness, even magical darkness. It also lets you see some things that are hidden to normal eyes."
He puts the jar back on a shelf and takes down two bottles, filled with a swirling red and orange liquid.
"I don't know for sure what this is, but it is definetly magical. The elf who gave them to me said it was the blood of some chaos creature, but I don't know what it might be useful for."
He replaces the bottles and opens a drawer, taking out a silver ring. The ring has a single grey stone adorning it, and gives off a faint magical aura which gets stronger as he brings it towards you and fainter as he moves it away.
"This ring is a real oddity. Seems to have some sort of magical aura, but it changes randomly. The stone is odd too, as it doesnt seem to be any naturally ocurring stone."

Korryl - Anyone Else
OOC:
Get posting, need you all to be somewhere (anywhere really) by midnight (game time)

[Richpur]

Richard looks around at the city, quaint, in an unpleasant kind of way. Can't these people build straight lines? He recoils back into himself, mentally shrinking back under his skin to keep away from the mess. There must be a dwarf quarter nearby, at least they understand the meaning of order. They also understand magic and weapons more complicated than large sharp clubs, which is more than can be said about these northmen.

It doesn't take long before Richard finds himself stooping slightly into a dwarven fletchers having booked a room in the inn across the street.

[AcidK]

*The Undead One was very interested in all the items, but the ring fascinated him emensly.*

That ring... I'll hhave it... Lookss like it'ss attracted to thosse with a... ssensse of magic around them. I'll take thosse two bottless too... In ffact... I'll take the lot.

*The Undead One looked around, randomly inspecting a few bottles, pulling out a small bag of what seemed like old stones and crystallis.*

You dont hhappen to hhave any Absynthia or Saltpeter hhanging around? Or mayybe ssome Black Water? (ooc- oil -ooc)

[Zappa Tenderlea]

grinning, Morgoth sprints down, following the sound. Due to the ogre's current state, it should be easy to catch. as soon as he's gained on the source of the sound, a flying dropkick would be launched, abusing the momentum of the charge