Fate of the Realm: Heroes of the West

[Rhyspar]

She watched the Undead one dissapear into the town, in groups of two or three the others slowly petered off. Realizing it was up to yourself to find accomodations for the night Faile untied her purse from her side. The soft brown leather was smooth, almost fuzzy, to the touch and pulling on the drawstring Faile opened the bag. Pouring some of the contents into her hand she scrutinized the coins.

Hmm...I'll be fine for awhile but it would help to pick up a bit of extra money.

Dumping the coin in her hand back into her purse Faile pulled the drawstrings tight and re attached it to her side. Casually ambling along Faile walked into the town, watching the people around her, keeping her eye out for accomodations. Recognizing a few men from Ragnors group she kept to herself, window shopping as she went. After a few hours her stomach began to complain and the waning light told Faile she had better find a place to spend the night soon, not to mention feed herself as her stomach reminded her with a loud growl.

[Kal_Zakath]

What's this? lantadors evil twin is around??

[AcidK]

hard to beleive, but yes

[Rhyspar]

A brightly painted sign caught her attention; Dragons Lodge it announced in curling letters of blue and gold. As her stomach let out another loud groan Faile veered towards the Inn. Pulling the heavy oak doors open she stepped into a rather wide, although short recieving room. A small dusty desk was placed at the end of it, a door directly behind the counter. A loud group of men came through the door behind her, jostling Faile and pushing her out of the way as they turned to the left and laughingly exited though a pair of large swinging doors. As the doors opened warm light spilled into the small room and the sound of laughter and singing could be heard. Looking over at the desk and shrugging Faile turned and followed the men inside to the common room.

Entering the room she stood off to the side of the doorway, observing her surroundings. Faile immediatly noticed the atmosphere, it was warm and friendly. This boded well for her stay there, she had been in more then one cold and dreary place and never had she been entirely comfertable in such surroundings. Mostly what appeared to be locals were inside although there were quite a few who were very obviously travellers like herself. Smiling at the few who had looked over to see who the newcomer was Faile made her way towards one of the serving girls standing by the bar.

"Hello, hi. Excuse me but who could I talk to about getting a room for the night?"

The girl asked Faile her name, and after writing down the information in a book requested payment for the room. Handing over a few coins she was handed a grimy silver key for room 12 on the second floor. Before she could ask how to get to the second floor the bubbly waitress was gone, responding to her clients calls for more ale. Seating herself at the end of one of the less full tables Faile reached over and tapping of the serving girls elbows on her way by requested some stew and a pint, passing a few coppers as incentive for fast service.

It worked, she had a steaming hot plate of food set down in front of her within minutes. Spending the time eating, drinking, and laughing with the man who she had sat beside Faile was enjoying herself. As the night wore on she was drinking more and more, finally accepting the young mans invitation to dance she whirled around the room changing partners often. Soon the entire common room was in on it everyone dancing and laughing as they danced along to a fiddlers music. As the night drew on towards midnight Faile began to have thoughts of bed and rest, but as yet another invitation to dance was made decided against it, continuing along with the merriment of the crowd.

[lantadors evil twin]

Cheesebrain
Its all lies!
Now get out of meh thread before I think nasty things about you!

Korryl

[ooc: Anyone who hasnt posted between the arrival and now has exactly one post to catch up. Simply post your actions followed by your reactions to what follows.
AcidK:Mundane supplies such as those are available at any alchemists, including the one your in.
Richpur: The dwarves have all sorts of weapons on offer, even weapons the northmen dont use as the dwarves keep stocks for the elves who occasionally pass through. Chances are they have whatever it is your looking for, within reason ]

Darkness had enveloped the town of Korryl, and most of the inhabitanjts had withdrawn to the safety of their houses. A row of lights encircled the town, carried by the guards on the town walls. For those within, the walls offered security that was hard to find in the northern lands of men. In the town center, a dwarven bell tolled, marking the end of one day and the start of the next. The intricate workings of the clock were well beyond the understanding of the northmen, but the elves and dwarves liked to keep track of the passing days.
A chill wind began to blow through the streets, and the few people still outside hurried towards the shelter of their homes, or the inns. The nights had grown darker of late, and rumours of strange creatures filled the townsfolk with dread. As the last chime of the clock faded away, there was but a moment of silence. Then, the night was shattered by an ear-splitting roar and a dozen lights on the northern wall went dark.
The town guard poured into the streets as loud horns signalled the alarm. They were the soldiers of the northmen, stronger than most men and armed with ornate dwarven weapons, they were more than a match for any foe they could imagine. But this foe was beyond their wildest fears.
A creature swooped down and landed in the market, standing taller than a house. It lacked any form of skin, instead consisting entirely of large bones. It swung its head down towards the advancing soldiers, and roared, a blast of dark energy surging from its gaping maw. The foul magic swept across them, aging them a hundred years in a matter of seconds. The flesh fell from their bones, and their weapons and armour became dull. A malevolent flame burned in each of their eyes, and they turned around, attacking their former comrades.
Battlecries sounded across the town as another pair of the creatures landed, and the former town guard turned on their own people, killing those they could catch and setting fire to homes and shops.
As the battle was joined, a lone figure stood above the northern gate, watching the destruction. He drew his black cloak round him, keeping away the icy wind, and smiled.
It had begun.

The Catacombs

As you run down the corridor, you feel yourself slowed, as though running through water. The ogre manages to keep ahead of you, and presently enters a large cave. You pasue at the entrance and look inside.
A dozen orcs have taken up residence, although they do not appear to be very alert. Every now and then, one of them picks up a sharp stone and throws it down into a pit, around which they are sitting. Yelps of pain echo up from the pit, and you guess there is someone down there. You also hear the sound of digging.
The ogre suddenly appears next to the orcs, which leap to their feet and grab their weapons. They snarl at each other, presumably talking in the gutteral orcish tongue, and the ogre gesturels wildly towards you. The orcs laugh, and surround the ogre, edging it towards the pit. It suddenly realises what they are doing, and lashes out with its powerful fists, knocking two orcs into the pit, and sending a third flying across the cave. It hits the wall with a sickening crunch and falls limply to the floor. Seeing this, the orcs lunge forwards, swinging their crude axes.

[AcidK]

*The Undead One did not sleep, he had little need of it and the nightmares that fall with the sleeping Undead were usually too much for him. When a roar came across the air, the Undead One spun around, the noise being familiar in some form or way. When the skeleton smashed into the town centre, the Undead One's eyes widened, the reckognition kicking in.*

Unhholy mothher offf the demonss...

*The Undead One quickly ran towards the twon square, staff in hands and newly bought items within a small satchel that hung down one side. He skidded to a halt before he reached the town centre, making sure none of the soldiers spotted his rotten flesh otherwise they would have got the wrong idea. After a while though the Undead One spun around the corner and rose his staff towards the creature, his first few seconds were in a faint attempt to gain control of the creature, or at least try to disable it in a confusion of commands from both him and whatever controlled it. After a while the Undead One spotted a figure on the walls, a black robed figure.*

Ssoo, thatss our little trouble makerrr...

*The Undead One then snapped out of his casting half-trance and ran out of veiw from the creature, running as fast as he could towards the walls and the robed figure, his mind going over and over: A Dark Mage? Here? Why would they bother with little towns like this one?*

[Zappa Tenderlea]

As you run down the corridor, you feel yourself slowed, as though running through water. The ogre manages to keep ahead of you, and presently enters a large cave. You pasue at the entrance and look inside.
A dozen orcs have taken up residence, although they do not appear to be very alert. Every now and then, one of them picks up a sharp stone and throws it down into a pit, around which they are sitting. Yelps of pain echo up from the pit, and you guess there is someone down there. You also hear the sound of digging.
The ogre suddenly appears next to the orcs, which leap to their feet and grab their weapons. They snarl at each other, presumably talking in the gutteral orcish tongue, and the ogre gesturels wildly towards you. The orcs laugh, and surround the ogre, edging it towards the pit. It suddenly realises what they are doing, and lashes out with its powerful fists, knocking two orcs into the pit, and sending a third flying across the cave. It hits the wall with a sickening crunch and falls limply to the floor. Seeing this, the orcs lunge forwards, swinging their crude axes.

Morgoth, deciding that having them kill each other would save him some trouble, stays put, and looks on, periodicaly looking back, as to prevent a sneak attack from occuring

[Richpur]

Having loaded his purchases into his pack and returned to his room, Richard crawls into the low slung bed and within minutes is sound asleep. Almost too sound asleep. A dull gnawing on his dreaming consciousness alerts him to the idea that screaming doesn't fit into his current thought pattern very well. He wakes up fully and sits up, momentarily forgetting the low ceiling.

Several seconds later he sits up again, slower this time and looks out the window. A northman runs past in one direction, bellowing a cry of defiance. Richard rolls out of bed and quickly clasps on his boots, pulling on his cloak and pack over the thick leather belt holding his sword as he walks hurriedly out of the room. Seeing the innkeeper already leaving the front door in close company with a pair of battleaxes and a bright orange mohican, Richard leaves his payment for the room on the desk, then ventures out into the street.

Everywhere there seem to be northmen, but that is hardly unexpected considering this is their city. They also appear to be significantly confused about whom they are attacking, since just down the alley before him there seem to be two northmen locked in combat. Deciding to investigate this disturbance, Richard strides off towards them, hand reaching inside his cloak for his sword. Just before he reaches the pair, the closer one reaches under the other's guard and impales him on the length of his sword. The man's mouth opens in a soundless expression of surprise before collapsing, the life draining from his body.

"Good morning." Richard begins politely.

The victor turns towards the greeting and raises the rotting remains of one eyebrow above the burning orbs floating in his sockets and brings a slightly rusted sword into a carelessly threatening position. Even as flesh drips from his jaw the expression shows a total lack of understanding mixed with amusement, a depth of personality not usually found in corpses of this advanced state of disrepair. Richard returns the raised eyebrow with a great deal more puzzlement and significantly less tearing of decayed flesh and quickly slips his sword from its sheath, whipping through the air towards the deceased.

With a speed belying the wasted state of the man’s muscles the strike is caught in the reddened blade, encrusted in equal parts by blood and decaying iron. The counter strike is slower than the initial parry, subtle infusions of power interfering with atrophying limbs, causing the blow to fall heavy and long. Richard moves along his blade, stepping to one side of the overhead swing and twisting his sword around, bracing against the motion and allowing the man’s own strength behind the blow to relieve him of his skeletal hands.

Using the moments of hesitation caused by the sudden loss of a weapon, Richard passes his sword across to the other hand and places his right palm against the exposed sternum and feels the aura overlaying the body, not quite managing to fit.

“So that is how it is.” Richard says as he reaches within himself and focuses on what he wishes to do. The air around his hand surges forward in a uniform block, forming into a precise matrix, the structure becoming almost solid as it is arranged mere moments before it hits the body. The sudden gust punches the man hard and sticks with him, hurling him backwards down the alleyway into the wall at the end, pinning him several feet off the ground.

Once again motionless the body hangs there; Richard walks up to the road before it and feels the aura dissipating. After it has gone he releases the fist of air and the corpse falls to the ground, unnatural currents directing it into a restful position more akin to a body laid out in state than one on a battlefield.

Richard looks back up at the noises coming from the direction of the market and for half a moment closes his eyes, organising his thoughts before making his way towards it; hoping these ex-northmen are not as numerous as the northmen had been the previous day.

[Heiro]

Celest kills the beast, for good measure. That way at least, he can't raise the alarm of her escape. Wiping her axe clean, to the best of her ability, using the orc thing's dirty shirt, she stands up and cautiously walks toward the orc catacombs, before swiftly taking the detour east to check the Stoneguard. Stepping cautiously she moves as fast as possible without making too much noise, checking for patrolling orcs or other such beasts.

[Rhyspar]

A rumbling roar hit the common room like a blast, loud ringing alarms blasting seconds after. Faile had just sat down to rest her feet for a moment when the sounds hit. Everyone in the common room immediatly froze, their eyes wide and searching. A plate dropped from a serving girls arm and shattered, at that moment, all hell broke loose within the Inn. Women screamed, and men ran for their weapons. Realizing that the task of calming the hysteria was well above her ability, Faile jumped towards her belongings and running outside was immediatly swept up in the throng of men rushing to defend their homes against whatever had made that terrible noise.

Feeling her body being crushed from the pressure of so many people in a panic, Faile decided to find a way to escape this crowd as it became apparent that any fall would leave her trampled to death beneath them.

[lantadors evil twin]

Korryl - Near the North Gate (The Undead One)

As you approach the steps to the northern wall, you feel an odd sensation, as though something had brushed across your mind. It lasts for only a moment, but a moment is enough. The figure above the northern gate looks down at you, then mutters a few words. The air seems to shimmer, and the figure vanishes, reappearing moments later at the base of the steps. It speaks as you approach.
"So, you are still alive. Or at least as alive as you can be. I'm surprised these barbarians didn't kill you on sight. But I never did understand the northmen."
He stops, and you get the distinct impression he is focusing his attention somewhere distant, then he looks at you again and continues.
"Since you are here, I will give you a simple choice. You can serve me as the commander of my army, or you can stay with your northmen friends and die tonight. The leader of the northmen has a staff which I desire. Find it, and I will return so that you can make your choice. If you decide to simply flee, then I will kill you some other time."
So saying, he uttered the words of another spell and vanished. You also see two of the three creatures flying away from the city, obviously on some errand. You recognise them as bone dragons, the animated corpses of dragons which died long ago in the dragon wars. However, the last you knew, there had only been one of them...

Korryl - The Market (Richard)

Reaching the market, you find the area little more than a battlefield. The northmen are fighting a losing battle against their former kin. As a northman falls in battle, he rises moments later as a new enemy. The walking corpses themselves seem unstoppable, simply rising again each time they are slain, until they are hacked into little pieces. The large creature which landed in the market is busy ripping the rooves off houses, looking through them as if searching for something.
A loud battlecry announces the arrival of a group of dwarves, who charge into the shambling corpses, tearing through them like a hot knife through butter. But still the corpses keep rising, and the defenders numbers are thinning rapidly...

The Catacombs
ooc: You have no sense of heroism

The orcs quickly overpower the ogre, but five of them die in the process. The ogres body keels over and falls into the pit. The remaining orcs, now four in number, look into the pit where two of their comrades are, and begin laughing at something. You also hear screams from the pit, human screams, and the sound of people begging for their lives.

The Way to the Stoneguard

Luckily, the orcs seem to be more concerned with drinking and fighting than with watching for escapees, and you manage to slip past the few 'patrols' you find sleeping in the corridors. After about half an hour, you enter a corridor made of polished black stone, a sharp contrast to the rough hewn rock of the orc tunnels. As you enter, the air shimmers slightly, and you turn to find nothing but solid rock behind you. There is no way back.
The corridor angles upwards, and soon enters a large square chamber. At the far end is a metal doorway, with two skeletons leaning against the wall beside it. The room is covered in dust, and you see clear tracks in it. Two orcish creatures passed this way, along with a human or elf. You also spot a large trapdoor in one corner, almost hidden by a pile of dirty rags.

OOC
Rhyspar: Its been more than a few hours, post something soon or I'll reply to what you have posted so far

[Zappa Tenderlea]

ooc: You have no sense of heroism

The orcs quickly overpower the ogre, but five of them die in the process. The ogres body keels over and falls into the pit. The remaining orcs, now four in number, look into the pit where two of their comrades are, and begin laughing at something. You also hear screams from the pit, human screams, and the sound of people begging for their lives.

[ooc] sense of heroism: yes. sense of lazyness and oportunism and selfpreservartion: bigger :P[/ooc]

Morgoth, deciding now is the time to strike, attacks the 4 orcs left, abusing the fact they were all looking down in the pit and laughing. the first one simply gets a kick in the head (strong enough to take it off, but still) while Morgoth abuses the little resistance the goblin gave his kicking leg to urge his body up a bit, sending him in a sideway salto, in between the other orcs. a fast punch forward with an outstretched hand simply snaps the orc facing him most directly, the green skin of his neck ripping open and allowing the hand to dig in deeply. The other free arm moves it's elbow towards the left orc, while Morgoth prepares his dodges

[AcidK]

*The Undead One stood without a word, the tempting voice of an old 'colleague' was beckoning him into the dark world once again, the same dark world that he left back long ago. Then again, this city was in tatters and besides, the northmen would kill him if they knew who or what he was. After two minutes of carefully placed thought, the Undead One turned around and began to search for the leader of the northmen, his mind now glowing and his thoughts racing at a high rate.*

[Rhyspar]

Managing to slip out of the crowd Faile raced over the ground, running around the edge of the walls. As an afterthought she pulls her sword from its sheath, holding it at ready she began to slow down. Soon, Faile is at a light jog. Her leather clad feet landing on a old rat skull a sickening crunch is heard, startlng Faile. Looking about her the darkness begins to make her nervous. Weaving through buildings she once again begins to head towards the center of the battle, eyes sharp for trouble.

A large menacing figure came quickly around a corner to Faile's right. Crying out in surprise she whipped around, brandishing her weak sword at the shadow. Eyes focusing in on the sillhoeotte somethign began to tug at the back of Faile's mind.

Strange, with that odd back he looks just like...

Hoping her mind was not just playing hopeful tricks on her, she lowered her sword slightly, "Do I know you..." Faile said, rather nervously, hoping her guess at the identity of this hunch-backed form was correct and she wasn't about to make a painfully dangerous mistake.

[AcidK]

*The Undead One almost bumps into Faile, surprised suddenly to see her raise a weapon towards him before realisation kicks into her. After a short moment she asked: "Do I know you..."*

"Of coursse you knnow mme, you ffainted annd wwere carried by mme..."

[Richpur]

Richard sighs at the ongoing slaughter, the defenders are continually weakening, and as they fall they rise again to lend their strength to the attacking force, already stronger by far if you include the monstrous form of bone that is lumbering between houses. It doesn’t take long for him to realise that no matter what contribution he makes to this melee, this is just one battle in a war that will not be decided this night. It is time to leave.

Unfortunately the nearest gate is on the opposite side of the marketplace, and from the sounds coming from behind him the situation in the other directions is no less grim. At this moment a band of dwarves charge into the body of combatants, killing almost indiscriminately since in all honesty a Northman in the middle of a battle looks pretty much the same alive as dead.

“Well I don’t think there’s going to be a better diversion.” Richard mutters to himself and dashes out along the outskirts of the fighting as the mass of recently deceased fighters recoils upon itself to deal with the dwarven rampage. From the corner of his eye he catches a metallic flicker and hurls himself into a roll, coming up and spinning to see the thrown hatchet bury itself in an older man. The man doubles over, leaning on his staff for support as the strength drains from his body and his blood seeps out to join with that of his kindred. Richard tracks back along the flight of the projectile and whips a dagger from his belt, hurling it with a single fluid motion at the origin of the previous attack.

The blade spins end over end, slicing through the column of suddenly still air and driving the point into the already dead Northman’s forehead, piercing whatever remnant of brain might have existed. The man doesn’t even seem to notice, swinging a long overhead blow at a nearby dwarf rather than fall over as Richard had hoped. Meanwhile the older man has quietly passed away. Richard knows that it will only be moments before he comes alive again with that same angry fire as the rest, but despite the man’s death the magic aura around him doesn’t seem to have changed.

Richard crouches down next to the man and focuses on him; his first impression seems o be wrong, there isn’t even a residual aura to suggest the amount of power emanating from him earlier; the focal point is instead a simply carved crystal at the top of his staff, now laying by his side. He picks up the staff, reasoning that since the man is dead he has no further use for it, and if he comes back to life Richard has no objection to causing an ambulatory corpse difficulties.

As he continues his run across the market Richard is aware that the large staff is a bit too noticeable, and that northmen recognising the staff of their elder might get the wrong idea. Therefore he resolves to remove the gem at the first opportunity. After only a few more steps Richard comes face to face with a fire eyed dwarf, evidently stopping at the old man’s side allowed them time to both get ahead, and get killed. Richard blocks the first swing with the middle of the staff, the axe blade cleaving through the wood only slightly diverted, but it is enough for Richard to come out with a torn cloak rather than a torn lung.

Being left now with one end of the staff in each hand Richard discards the lower half point first into his assailant’s chest, and secrets the shorter, upper section in his under-jacket. Richard draws his sword as a more effective weapon and heads on northward out of the growing devastation, making his way toward the north gate.

[Rhyspar]

Hearing his words Faile breathed a largely audible sigh of relief.

"Oh thank goodness, sorry but as you know this whole random bloody battle thing isn't my forte. I guess i've gotten a bit paranoid from all of this. What happened? All I know is I was enjoying myself in the Dragons Lodge and then suddenly a massive roar was heard. I haven't even seen what made that horrible noise yet, Although I must admit i'm relieved to have found another party member."

Her sword lowered during this speech Faile walked over to The Undead One and grinned at him. Her eyes never stopped moving however, flitting from shadow to shadow. Still nervous Faile's muscles stayed tense, like a coiled wire. Ready to jump if needed. However despite her wariness Faile definatly felt a lot safer now that she had found a recognizable figure.

"What are we to do now?"

[AcidK]

Ffirstly I musst... retreive ssomethhing, thhen we must get out off thhiss ccity beffore thhe ssituattion getss worsse... Ffollow mme.

*The Undead One then proceeded to walk forward in search for the northman leader and his staff.*

[lantadors evil twin]

Somewhere in Korryl (The Undead One, Faile)

You have barely taken two steps when half a dozen shambling corpses amble round the corner and spot you. One of them is waving what appears to be the broken off end of a stick, and has an odd residual magical aura. Something tells you that this is the man you were looking for...
The group then charge forwards, attempting to add you to the swelling ranks of their undead horde.
Before they reach you, the air shimmers slightly and the mage reappears. He waves his hand briefly and the group stop, waiting for more instructions. He turns to the undead one and speaks.
"Well well, your hardly as efficient as I had hoped. The staff has been found. But, luckily for you I have something else to do, so I'll give you a second chance. Rognar is assembling his people at the north gate, preparing to leave. I suspect the staff will be going with him."
He pauses, then looks at faile.
"You, my dear, have a very strange taste in friends. I suspect we shall meet again. In fact, I look forward to it."
With that, he uttered the words of his spell and vanished again, and the shambling group disperse in search of other prey.

Somewhere Else in Korryl (Richard)

You manage to avoid the worst of the fighting, which seems to be staying around the market, but meet a few of the walking corpses which you despatch easily. You get to within sight of te north gate, and find Rognar standing there, talking to a figure in a black hooded cloak. They haven't seen you, but you overhear a little of their conversation.
"...earlier than we expected. We don't have the means to stop them here."
"Why here though? There is nothing of value to them in the westmark."
"On the contrary, several powerful magical artifacts have secreted themselves here, hiding in the one place most elves would never think to look for them."
"So what do we do?"
"Korryl is a lost battle, but it has been arranged that we win this round, despite the loss of the city. Find anyone you can trust and assemble at Oldhelm. I will be there in a few hours, but I have some business to attend to first."
With that, the figure seems to melt into the shadows, and Rognar turns, wondering whether or not to risk entering the city again.

The Catacombs

Your surprise assault quickly results in three dead orcs, and the fourth loses its balance and falls into the pit below. A rather pathetic fight, even for orcs. Looking around, you realise that this cave is not entirerly natural. A crude orcish tunnel leads eastwards and another runs northwest, sloping up as it does so. There is also the pit in the floor in which you can see two orcs fighting it out with a group of what appear to be slaves. Given the collection of corpses, the slaves are winning but many of them have been killed.
Your attention is caught by an unusual amulet one of the orcs was carrying. It is clearly too intricate to be of orcish make, but it is not elven or dwarven. One one side is engraved a picture of a tower, with something written underneath in orcish, although you doubt many of the orcs can actually read.

[AcidK]

*As the mage disappears, the Undead One looks at Faile and, before she could speak, raises a hand and looks down.*

I sshall exxplain llater, wwe have llittlle time rright nnow... Wwe hhead to the nnorth gate, n ot to meet witth the resst, but to ffollow them. At timess like thesse, trusst iss hard to gain ffrom a... persson like me. And ssince you know a llitle about wwhat iss going onn, I cannnot allow you to jjoin the othherss, rissking expossure of whhat I intend to do...

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Your surprise assault quickly results in three dead orcs, and the fourth loses its balance and falls into the pit below. A rather pathetic fight, even for orcs. Looking around, you realise that this cave is not entirerly natural. A crude orcish tunnel leads eastwards and another runs northwest, sloping up as it does so. There is also the pit in the floor in which you can see two orcs fighting it out with a group of what appear to be slaves. Given the collection of corpses, the slaves are winning but many of them have been killed.
Your attention is caught by an unusual amulet one of the orcs was carrying. It is clearly too intricate to be of orcish make, but it is not elven or dwarven. One one side is engraved a picture of a tower, with something written underneath in orcish, although you doubt many of the orcs can actually read.

how deep is this pit? and is there anything I could use to get back out?

[lantadors evil twin]

well, iirc you have the climbing gear you used to get into the catacombs in the first place...
but apart from that, its about 10' to the bottom and the walls are rough, but not easy to climb.

[Rhyspar]

The corpses having concerned her enough Faile stops in confusion when the mage appears. He speaks to the Undead One, speaks of things which Faile could not comprehend as they obviously involved something she was unaware of. The way the man spoke made it clear that this was not the first time he and the Undead One had met, let alone spoken that night. Confused and quite apparently naive towards the situation Faile quickly developed a wariness of the entire thing which only increased at the dark mage turned his attention onto her.

"You, my dear, have a very strange taste in friends. I suspect we shall meet again. In fact, I look forward to it."

Eyes narrowing briefly Faile managed a tight smile, more out of automatic politeness then any genuine feeling. She had an intense distrust for this man immediatly yet for some reason she could not understand, was intrigued by the nature of him. As he dissapeared and it became apparentt that the corpses were not going to attack them, she opened her mouth to question the Undead One.

Before even one word had gotten out, she had already been silenced by his words. Deciding to take his word for it, Faile stayed silent and began to follow. After all, he had saved her not to mention carry her all that way. The Undead One atleast deserved a few minutes of silence which he asked for.

As long as he explains this soon..

However Faile couldn't shake the nagging line that was spoken, "I cannnot allow you to jjoin the othherss", and she began to wonder if she really did have a choice in the matter after all.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

Morgoth, thinking, got his rope, and attached it somewhere safely near the edge of the pit, then threw the other end in, before calculating his jump, and going in aswell. He immediatly attacked the 2 surviving orcs. as soon as these have been handled, he robbs the corpse of the oggre and orcs, taking the medallion the oggre used to grow invisible, and anything else that might seem usefull, then climbs back up, robbing the corpses of the orcs above, before helping the slaves out of the pit, and questioning them. He slowly starts to wonder where next to go to fulfill his part of the mission

[Richpur]

Richard listens in on the conversation in silence, raising an eyebrow at the mention of ‘several’ artefacts; he remembers the staff end tucked into his cloak thinks he knows where one of them is right now. Certainly the figure was right about two things; the city was lost, and no elf would come to the westmark to look for magic; probably he was right about more, but that has yet to be seen.

The figure blended away leaving Rognar standing alone by the gate; after waiting a second or two in case anyone else appears, Richard continues toward the gate. He moves quickly, in some way making up for the pause but mostly because he wants to get out of this city while both it and he are still standing. As he reaches Rognar he stops on one side of the gate and looks back along the street over the roofs at the smoke.

“Why do they always have to burn stuff?” he mutters rhetorically. Then a body comes flying out of the alley he just came from onto the street, crumpled into a heap of moist flesh as it dies. Moments later it seems to be hauled to its feet again and charges back into the alley. Richard grimaces slightly, the battle is going even worse than he had thought.

“Time to be leaving, wouldn’t you agree?

[AcidK]

Nno time to exxplain nnow, wwe musst leavve and ffollow the othherss, but witthout being sseen...

*The Undead One didn't grab Faile, his grip hardly having any tension on Faile's arm, but the push that went with it was on of urgency, as if the Undead ONe really did not want to loose anymore time. It wasn't too far from the truth.*

[Rhyspar]

After a bit of fumbling Faile finally managed to sheath her sword.

I need to learn how to handle this bloody thing damnit

Silently, she followed. Legs gradually picking up speed Faile jogged with her weight on her toes, lost in thought.

[Rhyspar]

*bump* common be active, this was a good one :S

[Zappa Tenderlea]

be patient. everyone has examns and stuff like that.

[lantadors evil twin]

[ooc: not much, but some people seem to actually want to post :eek:]

The North Gate - Richard

Rognar looks up at your approach, a little uneasy until he realises you are still quite alive. He stands in silence for a few moments before he answers you.
"Yes, I suppose it is, though my heart would tell me to fight to the bitter end. This battle was lost before it began, there is nothing more we can do here. We shall wait here for a few minutes to see if any others of our group have survived, and then we make for the fortress of Oldhelm."
He then reached into his pack and pulled out the ancient war horn of Ostmark, the heirloom of his line. He used it to send a loud, two-tone call echoing throguhout the streets, then sat on the stairway leading up to the walls above to wait.
"It has been a long time since the men of Ostmark were called to retreat. Let us hope that they still remember how to do so."

Somewhere in Korryl - The Undead One, Faile

Your progress through the city is slow, mainly due to having to detour round large groups of walking corpses which are roaming the city, looking for fresh prey. You are but a few minutes from the gate when the sound of a horn echoes loudly through the night sky. It is an odd sound, seeming to fill you with both dread, and renewed courage at the same time. Moments later, you hear shouting not far away..
"The horn of ostmark! The battle is lost!"
"The cowards are fleeing! Traitors! Kill them all!"
"Run for the gates! We shall hold them here!"
Similar cries begin to echo from other directions, obviously the last few groups of survivors. The walking dead seem to have been invigourated by the sound of the horn, and launch themselves towards the shouting.

The Catacombs

From the bodies of the orcs and ogre, you accumulate a small pile of junk, a few dozen bent gold coins, the ogres medallion which seems to have stopped working, the orcs amulet with the picture of the tower, a smudged map of the nearby caves and a large iron key.

The slaves thank you for their freedom, and tell you that the orcs have been raiding for slaves across the lands north of the river Scarr. They also report that someone has taken control of all the orc tribes in the area, and whoever it is, they aren't an orc. The orcs are building up a vast army in the tunnels of the eastern mountains, preparing for war with the elves and dwarves. Although they don't know when the war is going to start, they haveoverheard that it will begin with 'a city burnt by the walking dead'.

The map of the caves shows the door you were supposed to open. The easy way to it has been blocked, apparently the orcs collapsed the tunnel deliberatly. However, there is a door not far along the northwestern tunnel which is marked as leading into dwarf tunnels. There is also a similar door near to the one you need to open, so it is likely that you could use the old dwarf tunnels to bypass the rockfall. It would also be somewhat safer than wandering the orcish tunnels, as the orcs are rarely clever enough to find the secret triggers to open dwarf doors.

[AcidK]

*The Undead One shudders at the sound and grabs Faile, dragging her at speed towards the gate.*

Comme oon, wwe musst not sstay here too llong!

[Zappa Tenderlea]

From the bodies of the orcs and ogre, you accumulate a small pile of junk, a few dozen bent gold coins, the ogres medallion which seems to have stopped working, the orcs amulet with the picture of the tower, a smudged map of the nearby caves and a large iron key.

The slaves thank you for their freedom, and tell you that the orcs have been raiding for slaves across the lands north of the river Scarr. They also report that someone has taken control of all the orc tribes in the area, and whoever it is, they aren't an orc. The orcs are building up a vast army in the tunnels of the eastern mountains, preparing for war with the elves and dwarves. Although they don't know when the war is going to start, they haveoverheard that it will begin with 'a city burnt by the walking dead'.

The map of the caves shows the door you were supposed to open. The easy way to it has been blocked, apparently the orcs collapsed the tunnel deliberatly. However, there is a door not far along the northwestern tunnel which is marked as leading into dwarf tunnels. There is also a similar door near to the one you need to open, so it is likely that you could use the old dwarf tunnels to bypass the rockfall. It would also be somewhat safer than wandering the orcish tunnels, as the orcs are rarely clever enough to find the secret triggers to open dwarf doors.

I tell the prisoners how to get away, and ask them to report to the city and warn everyone of what they've learnt, take the medalion, amulet, key, map, gold, and if there is any, good armour that does not get in the way of my nimble and fast movements, then head for the entrance of those dwarven tunnels, where I use my knowledge and dwarvenhood to find a way in, and lock it again after me

[Rhyspar]

Lost in her own world the sound of the horn brought Faile back to reality quite quickly. She found the sound quite soothing actually, giving her new strength to continue in this never ending run confused as she was. Although soothing at first the cries that accompanied it were anything but. "Kill the traitors!" she heard and then the loud plans were made to barricade the gate.

Before another word was said the Undead One had already grabbed ahold of Faile's arm, rather roughly she noticed and was pulling her at even greater speed towards the gate. This time she had no arguments or questions for him, concentrating instead on moving her feet faster and faster towards the exit. Hoping they would make it out in time.

[Richpur]

Richard looks along the alley waiting for something to emerge, after a while a form appears, lumbering along with a struggling mass in tow behind it. The form seems to have the same slightly distracted gait as the rest of the recently dead so his hand drifts down to his sword and rests, fingers twined about the hilt. The figure works it’s way up the road in a kind of meandering dash that seems to make up in speed what it lacks in directness, ultimately coming out of the shadowy depths of the increasingly smoke filled city.

"I think we have company, althoug I'm not too sure it is the desirable sort." Richard says, to himself as much as to anyone else nearby.