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Group 28 
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Malekith's Personal Guard
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Joined: Fri Nov 16, 2007 8:19 pm
Posts: 910
Location: Dublin, Ireland
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Just fixing the topic, ignore this post. Again with it creating the page before anyone is on it.

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Group 28- Name: Cananatra; Warrior; Follower of Slaanesh
WS:4 S:4 T:5 D:4 I:3
Equipment: MC Long sword, Throwing Axe, Dagger, Heavy Armour, Slaanesh Amulet, Dalvian Hunting Horn, Rations x 7, Null stone x 1, 525 Gold, Dark Steed, Blackpowder Pistol [18/18]
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Ride, Endurance


Sun Jan 20, 2013 5:18 pm
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Selling: Nothing really.

Buying: If needed, a shield(C100), A long bow with arrows(C100, how many arrows come along?).

Inn: Pay C42/49 for the Golden Dragon, reserve an additional 50 for drinks.

I have yet to decide on the attribute point, I'll have that in the story wise decision. The skill point will go to Acrobatics, which would cost an additional C500.

I've named my steed Sephirah, assuming it's a mare and not a stallion.

So, answer the following questions please:
What's the price of getting a mastercrafted Medium Armour?
How much will additional arrows cost?

EDIT: Your horse can be a mare, stallion, colt or anything else you like, you got the pick of the horse lines after all. Medium armour costs C300 and master crafting doubles the price to C600 which I think puts it outside your price range if you want the skill as well depending on how much money you have besides the C1000 from the most recent pay day. A long bow will be C100 and comes with thirty arrows. You can buy an additional quiver for C20 which will carry an additional thirty. -Drainial

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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Sun Jan 20, 2013 10:26 pm
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Syjahel took her solemn place in the rites of the dead and paid her last respects to Sultra. Still not quite able to believe his loss she learned that he, too, had been a Tower Lord and that the family - Nagah - therefore had quite a history with the Black Guard. This done there were mercenaries to be made from a rabble into a more organised fighting force and she set to this with a will.

After a long journey to the capital, aided by having a decent horse of her own, Syjahel chose to stay in the Golden Dragon inn. After what certainly felt like three weeks in the saddle she was not going to settle for anywhere that did not provide baths and a nice soft bed, and a decent massage too if she could get it. Carathyle it seemed had the same idea, which at least meant that she had some company between her training schedule and shopping for necessities.

Not one to be dazzled by the city lights, Syjahel soon took to life in the sombre capital but nevertheless she was impressed. She had visitied once before, but had been little more than a child; she had vivid memories of her father holding her up to see the grim gates from afar as they approached, raven-wreathed and hung about with the remains of traitors. Even more than her home city of Clar Karond, this was a place where the rule of the Witch King had been stamped upon the land.

After taking advantage of the cosmopolitan nature of the place to find a tutor in the noble art of Sariya Fencing, Syjahel set aside one of her evenings to dress in her most refined clothes, and, choosing a bottle of a very respectable vintage of wine, went in search of Carathyle.

"Master Maveric, I believe I owe you a discussion and a civilised drink to go with it."



Little shopping this time round; once we know what we're doing next then will be the time to hit the shops for me. Syjahel seems to have a spare short sword which she shall sell and we can just add that to her drinks money. (I need the space in my sig too!) She wants to get training in Sariya Fencing. Because I have wanted this for a long, long, long time, it's awesome and never mind that there is one that uses a shield. It's a nobility thing. Costing 750c. 7 x 7c = 409c for a week in the inn plus other stuff like drinks and the aforementioned wine, would 850 cover it?

Stats: I have this thing. I just need to have Dexterity as high as it will go. Plus it would go nicely with the fencing so Dex 6 please :D

Spend some time talking to her compatriots in the evenings if they're free; also Syjahel is half expecting Jacks to get up to something. An entire week unsupervised in the big city, by Khaine. Other than this, just the social with Carathyle, and writing letters home to her family now we're somewhere she can send them.

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~ We Never Slept ~


Mon Jan 21, 2013 2:36 am
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The city was impressive, Cananatra had to give it that; though after so much time outside large cities he was feeling slightly hemmed in as he rode through the streets. As Syjahel and Carathyle rode off to waste money in the most expensive inn around Cananatra headed for a distinctly mid range one. He wasn’t being paid to kill anyone so he wanted some peace and quiet but nor was he rolling in money so he wasn’t going to waste it. Arriving at the Four Winged Falcon he quickly paid for the week, counting out 35 circlets and handing them over. No need to worry about drinking money, his constitution was such that the amount he had to drink to actually get drunk would be financially unviable, if the bar even stocked enough; not that he particularly enjoyed the experience anyway.

The room he was shown to was small, though well tended. The bed looked clean, and hard enough that it wouldn’t be too soft for someone used to sleeping on the ground. After the hard fought rescue, run from the beastmen, battle and subsequent ride here he was feeling well in the mood for a very long sleep. The shopping could wait till tomorrow.

The next day saw him heading for the area of the city the innkeeper reliably informed him was where most of the decent armourers had their shops. Over his shoulder he carried a sack with his old set of medium armour and his long sword. He’d be selling those as they would just get in the way and having to cart them about was rather pointless now they had been replaced by better equipment. Walking into the first workman like smithy he saw he easily came to a bargain with the smith and sold the armour and sword for a neat sum. He watched as the smith counted out 175 circlets and dropped them into the pouch he kept behind his breastplate. He also left his heavy armour to be repaired and redecorated, paying the smith another 25 circlets to do so. Unfortunately this particular shop didn’t sell any shields, for whatever reason Cananatra could not quite figure out; so while he was waiting on his armour he went looking for a shop which did. Spying one through the crowd he walked in and quickly gravitated to a decent looking, well made shield similar to the one he used to carry. The smith insisted on showing him some of the more exotic weapons he stocked, which was perfectly fine with Cananatra as he had time to kill, and he ended up buying a Blackpowder Pistol from him as well. Paying the smith the 500 circlets, leaving his pouch much lighter, he wandered back to the previous smith to see how he was getting on. On the way he examined the pistol. It wasn’t the type of thing he’d normally cart around, but after fighting with a demon princess up close he thought it would be useful to be able to lodge a lead bullet in something’s face rather than get close enough for it to hit him. When he arrived back the armour was ready and he headed back to his room. He’d been walking about enough for the day.

The following morning he awoke, clearly decided on finding out just what the damn hunting horn did, and after several discreet inquiries he found his way to someone who might know and handed over the rather reasonable price of 5 circlets to have him look at it. He also managed to pawn off the emerald eye while he was at it which netted a respectable 200. He also managed to grab a pair of healing vials to deal with any wounds he’d come across for 40 circlets; before heading to the guard barracks to get some training in how to properly get in shape and stay there (endurance) for a rather steep 500 circlets.

So all that stuff above. Selling armour and sword, repairing heavy armour and getting it painted. Buy shield and black powder pistol. Buy 2 healing vials and sell the emerald eye. Get the horn looked at. Get endurance skill training.
For your ease drainial:
1260 - 35 = 1225 + 170 = 1395 - 25 = 1370 - 500 = 870 - 5 = 865 + 200 = 1065 - 40 = 1025 - 500 = 525


OOC: Hope I done all that right. Btw, this is going in a new post because the last two times i edited the thread died. Better safe than sorry.

_________________
Group 28- Name: Cananatra; Warrior; Follower of Slaanesh
WS:4 S:4 T:5 D:4 I:3
Equipment: MC Long sword, Throwing Axe, Dagger, Heavy Armour, Slaanesh Amulet, Dalvian Hunting Horn, Rations x 7, Null stone x 1, 525 Gold, Dark Steed, Blackpowder Pistol [18/18]
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Ride, Endurance


Mon Jan 21, 2013 7:26 pm
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The ride to Naggarond was long, but it wasn’t the first time, nor the second, not even the third time he had gone to the city. From his youth alone, he traveled to and from Naggarond on horse-back, nearly every time with a small escort. The black metal gates, the half-living half-dead corpses of traitors to the eternal throne, the decapitated heads on pikes and the impaled bodies next to the roads leading to the main gates, all were present as they were all those years ago since he last set foot in the city. Back then, he was but a mere soldier, a youngster among the troops. Now, he had come to terms with his birthright, with his Asur teachings, and with the will to trample any who opposed him, or those he swore to assist, he felt like Khaine had led his hand toward the blessed city yet again to end a life-changing journey, surely, Carathyle knew where it would end.

All those years ago, Carathyle managed to kill his own father in cold blood, leaving a smear across his acceptance of the name Maveric, and a gaping hole in his heart, for he was one to desire the truth what happened during that Death Night. It was what had let him into the Mercenary’s lifestyle, it was what forged him into the bitter, reckless warrior that roamed the battlefield in search of that one sparkle of truth. That was at the beginning, this is at the end of the journey. He had found his answers in an Illusion, for he had seen with his own eyes the view of an outsider upon the forging of the obsidian blade, the blade he proudly carried as a token of his rebellion, but now it stood as a beacon of self-confidence, it from its burning flame grew his confidence in Syjahel and thus resulting in him speaking the words of loyalty toward the mercenary captain.

When Naylia decided upon their refuge, and didn’t state that the costs were covered, Carathyle nearly let out a sigh of agony. From the little he made in his opinion off of this job, he needed to keep himself warm from that amount. Still, it should leave enough for him to carry on and buy the things he wished for. His trusty Dranach, flung across the battlefield multiple times, was neatly holding its own at the flank of the horse, carefully strapped to the horse to ensure there were no wounds.

The dark steed he choose from the line up back at the forest camp was the one he had recognized from before. The steed that had carried him as far as the Tree of Hearts allowed it, it was no doubt the mare should get a proper owner, and thus he decided upon naming her Sephirah, after the name his mother choose over Maveric upon the night of Death. His fists clenched the reins when the traitorous thoughts crossed his mind, anger was still in him about the whole ordeal, but he had learned to forget the bonds to mortality that the name carried, for it was not the name but the person that did the foul deeds. He was actually rather glad to have the noble horse as his steed.

The Inns were all slightly different, and after he had figured what was the most expensive, and what could become the most expensive, Carathyle figured that the minor amount of 2 Circlets more a night would be returned with proper safety, and better protection toward thievery than the other two, one being for absolute bottom-feeders and the other for those that would get a good fight after dinner.

The whole fight after dinner didn’t bother Carathyle one bit though, it was something he’d been confronted with many times before in the army. The small talk that sparked an argument, then ignited a full-on, full-contact spar, often resulting in tables being smashed, chair being destroyed and the occasional casualty by falling out the window. Still, he preferred a degree of safety over the constant appeal of a good bar fight. Plus, he was a noble.

However, unlike Syjahel and Cananatra, Carathyle figured that in the highest of the common Inns when it came to price for a room, the rooms wouldn’t fly out the door, and otherwise a sword through the gullet would solve that problem within seconds. His first stop was the armourer. With the small cash he had made, he most certainly had to repair his armour were it to last during the, most certainly, upcoming journey. But arriving at the armourer, Carathyle suddenly had an epiphany as he saw a mastercrafted light armour on display. The price was somewhat on the higher side, but it was made out of good material, plus it hindered his rather reckless maneuvers less which was something he was in desperate need of. Quickly thinking about the possibilities, he decided on the thing that would normally be as strange as anything, switching his Medium Armour with the Master Crafted Light Armour. When the suit of armour was of desirable proportions, the brash noble noticed immediately that it felt a whole lot lighter on him then the medium armour. In appearance, there were a couple of changes now. His long, raven-black hair was one thing he didn’t mind among most. The shorter hair at the start of the journey was something he was forced into by a wager gone horribly wrong, but never the less, the time on the road was one that seemed to heal a lot of wounds.

With the newly bought armour now strapped to his body, and with himself on horse-back again, Carathyle decided to search for the blacksmith. Surely some decent things should have been in stock, and upon arrival, Carathyle seemed to be in his favour. The moment he entered the workplace of the blacksmith, he noticed a notorious looking, elven longbow, reminding him of the one he lost ages ago it seemed. He was a bit rusty no doubt, but things learned once only needed a small reminder. After shooting a couple of arrows with it at a target, Carathyle found the feel of a longbow in his hand strangely familiar, and decided on purchasing not the bow in particular, but rather a bow that was equal in design, yet had more power and a longer range. His desire for a ranged weapon known to be used by Asur and Wood Elves was rather unusual, but what wasn’t of the young nobleman? The Mastercrafted Longbow was a quick buy for Carathyle. The quiver stacked with thirty arrows were neatly lined across his back, before the longbow was strapped around his torso as well. On a dime, he purchased two additional quivers, smart considering he’d anticipate a minor form of trouble to come across their road on their next mission. The Dranach was quickly sold to the blacksmith since Carathyle figured that he wouldn’t need it from this point onward, and Carathyle went off to his next destination.

After returning to the Inn of his choosing, with the Acrobatics tutor sought out, Carathyle rented a room, paying up front since he was certain he’d be spending the next week’s nights in the Inn until they get new orders. All in all, It was a fine, productive day. The rather busy Inn wasn’t too crowded, and the many conversations that filled the mood of the Inn to a cozy level were quite soothing for the young noble, unfortunately, he wasn’t in the mood to talk to strangers, nor was he in the mood for complete and utter silence. Fortunately, Syjahel approached with the ideal circumstances. A bottle of fine wine and the opportunity for a discussion were a rarity for Carathyle to decline, especially when the offer comes from a familiar face.

“I believe you do. But from what I recall, it might be better if we do it where nobody can eavesdrop our conversation without giving themselves away, even though I doubt any of them hasn’t been drinking so far.” Carathyle raised from his seat and looked at the noble lady in her attire. “Mind if I add that armour suits you slightly better than normal clothing? Not that the appearance is displeasing or anything.”

Okay, buy the MCLongbow with 2 additional quivers, sell the Dranach and medium armour, pay the Inn upfront and get a tutor for Acrobatics.

A quick sum-up: C1000-C300(Mastercrafted Light Armour)-C200(Mastercrafted LongBow)-C40(2 Additional Quivers)-C49(Inn)-C500(Acrobatics Training)-C30(drinks for the entire week)+C25(Selling Dranach)+C150(Selling Medium Armour)=C56 remaining after all expenses.

What to do the entire week? Enjoy a good book before sleep, check up on Cananatra and Jacks(if he can be found!) to see what they’re expecting. Enjoy a good conversation with Syjahel, and otherwise train to enhance his swordsmanship, and his marksmanship as well :P We don’t want him to miss his targets now, do we?

Stats: I’ll add one to WS. The longsword and his natural strength already make him a rather displeasing opponent for armour-relying foes, as his attacks should be around S5 or S6, but to accentuate that, I’ll add a point to WS since that should make him more efficient at combat.


OOC: This should cover it all I guess :P

_________________
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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Tue Jan 22, 2013 8:59 pm
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With the ceremony over, the army marched on. Jacks was glad for that, it was a good way to keep their minds preoccupied rather than dwell on the loss of Lord Sultra and many other lives. He was surprised however, that their Lord left with with a steed each to call their own, officially. It was a nice gesture, Jacks was right in respecting such an elf, he paced around and glanced at all the assorted breeds. His eyes stopped on a jet black horse with a distinguished head, large eyes and a small muzzle. It was an Arabian horse standing before him, its eyes met with his and Jacks knew this was his horse, his new partner on his journey. Without another word, Jacks approached the horse, his hand rested gently by its wedge shaped head. The horse seemed to accept him, he whispered to the horse her new name, Spike, before hopping on as gracefully as his weariness could allow him. Together they travelled and Jacks kept a good eye and maintenance on his new partner, over the week, they seemed to have been able to bond well together, and Jacks rode Spike with more grace than he thought possible.

During their travel, Jacks took out the silver hairpin he acquired from Tiarra before she died. He twiddled with it, gazing upon its delicately entwined silver white pattern, it reminded him of her beauty. He released the seal, and gently lifted the spring loaded lid to reveal three fine needles cleverly concealed that would fire when the seal was released. It was a neat contraption, similar to Tiarra, beautiful, and deadly.

However, it wasn't as simple as he thought it'd be, upon the long travel, he discovered a new trigger at the tip of the trinket. It seemed to require a fine needle to turn, his thought went to the three hidden within. Surely enough, they fitted in as though they were a key, and upon turning it, the hairpin bloomed like a flower and revealed itself. A Black Lotus with an even finer needle protruding from its core. Jacks was stunned, he had no idea what to make of it. Spike seemed to become uneasy too. Quickly before his companions or anyone else noticed, he locked the Lotus back into a hairpin and returned it back inside his shirt, making sure the necklace was fastened and his Artifact was secure.

He'd have to ponder on it and whether there was something Tiarra had wanted him to do, now he had a second task he must complete within this lifetime.

But upon reaching Naggarond, Jacks' attention became distance. He heard tales of the magnificent city, and cities didn't interest him as much as the forestland he grew up in. But Naggarond had a particular dominance and presence none other city he'd seen could match, it instantly reminded him of Spike. Patting Spike encouragingly, they entered the city along with his other companions and the army itself.

"I'll find you a good place to stay while we're here."

Once inside, and with Naylia's dismissal for the week, Jacks turned to his companions to find out what the plan was. Finding a place to stay was the first task, he himself had plans to see to a trainer within the city to learn to better his combat skills. He trusts Leifon would be getting stronger too, so he could not afford to slack off, lest he encountered opponents like the Dalvians upon their journey. He didn't trust Leifon to be of such skill, he spat at the thought, but one could not be too careful.

"I'm sure luxury is what our dear captain will be looking into. I'm not sure where you two plan to stay, but I'll be in the Broken Orc. I'll find you over our week here, otherwise at our next meeting as a group."

With that, Jacks headed off. He didn't tell them his reason for choosing a low budget inn was for further 'free' personal training. Just let the lawless scum try him, luxury is just a disguise, there is no such thing as relaxation in Naggarond or anywhere else. In The Broken Orc, he was guaranteed to be needing to stay alert at all times.

He paid for his stay for the week, a measly 14C, and went on his way without going in to inspect his room. He did not care, as long as he had some 'privacy' at night in a corner somewhere, he was fine. He wasn't going to sleep on the bed anyway, both for safety and because he wasn't going to be use to it, nor should he get use to it either. But mainly, he needed to find a good stable for Spike, then needed to search out for a trainer to keep himself busy for the week.

After much searching about, it turned out the Golden Dragon was a highly recommended place for traveller horses. It suited Jacks' fine, at least it was a decent place and at least she now has company too. Paying for her stay, Jacks whispered some words to her before heading off to tend his own business.

He asked about and with some circlets, found himself facing a runned down house in the warehouse district. Facing him was a worn out wooden door and boarded up windows. At first, Jacks thought himself scammed already by some lowly scum, but as he was about to turn away to leave, he noticed the mark of the Suithenlu scrawled across the board of the door. It was cleverly disguised so an unaware Druchii would miss it, fortunately Jacks was well trained.

"That old hag has done it again. I guess I will need to pay my respects to her when we return."

With new found respect and high expectation, he pulled the door and stepped into the darkness, the gaping maw enveloped him. Now doubt Leifon was a much more advanced student in this fighting style, having spent her entire life since the academy learning this art. But Jacks was determined, vengeance was no longer the only factor here, he had a puzzle to solve concerning the hairpin.

"I'll dance this dance of death with you, and I will surpass you. I will give into Hatred if I must, I will find you." Jacks made his vow as he stood in the darkness.

A booming voice from the shadows laughed at him.

"A fine speech, your Hatred is strong, you're worthy of learning the Suithenlu Khythan way."

It wasn't a voice of mockery, it was of approval, and a cellar door opened before him in the darkness. It swallowed the darkness, and with that, him and his last shred of compassion.

Jacks will name his steed Spike and put her in the stables at Golden Dragon for the week. He will go learn Suithenlu Khythan first level for 700C, pay his week rent at The Broken Orc 14C, whatever the cost for the stables is. Then upgrade his Shade Cloak to Master Crafted level and repair any other equipment as necessary. (Can the throwing daggers be used like normal combat daggers? if not I'll buy a proper dagger too)

Stat increase: Dex.
If Jacks can avoid being hit, he won't need to be so tough like Cana'!


OOC: How much the purple gemstone sell for? I might need it so I can get poisons or even pay for what I want to buy/repair.

_________________
What's mine is mine, What's yours is mine.
Now that we understand each other, lets get down to business.

Jacks -Shade
- WS 5 - - S 3 - - T 2 - - D 6 - - I 5 -

Equipment
Short Sword, MC Long Sword*, Dagger, RxB & RHB [20/10] MC Shade Cloak, 4 Throwing Daggers, 3x Healing Vials, 451C, [3]Dark Venom, [4]Unseen Chains, Food, Dark Steed- Spike

Skills
Basic Stealth, Awareness, TWF, Suithenlu Khythan, Ride

Magic Item
Eye of the Jabberwock

*Magical properties possibly imbued


Thu Jan 24, 2013 9:58 am
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Approaching Carathyle at rest, it seemed that he still wore his armour and kept a vigilant eye on those around him. Much as she was doing herself; one never truly relaxed in a place like this, but the young noblewoman considered that while in a place like this she was paying enough to expect not to be immediately stabbed. So though she had her two swords, the mark of a highborn, she had taken the liberty of letting her hair down.

Speaking of which, she noted with approval that Carathyle hadn't just been growing his hair prior to getting it cut in the big city, but allowing it to grow into the proper flowing raven tresses of a Druchii knight. A proper city girl, Syjahel had always considered short hair somehow unmasculine on a grown man. For his part the young nobleman commented that he preferred her in armour, so they made a fine pair of traditionalists really. She smiled at this, and made a short and not too mocking bow in good humour.

"Well I suppose you may, Master Maveric, but if ladies without armour please Khaine himself then who are we to argue?" She gestured to his hair. "Then while we are making observations, may I say how much more it suits you to allow your hair to grow."

"And after we have exchanged the pleasantries of fashion, by all means let us speak more privately. Lead on, and let us share a tale or two."



Go somewhere where they cannot be overheard with Carathyle and then storytime.

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Thu Jan 24, 2013 9:17 pm
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"I agree. I wasn't practically glad about it either, it was the last wager I've had concerning drinking games." Carathyle casually replied, before heading up toward one of the rooms. "We'll use my room. I'm fairly sure nobody here will follow due to the mood set in the Inn itself." Carathyle stepped past Syjahel, before whispering, "Plus, every intruder during the conversation outside our comrades won't live to tell the tale."

Stepping up the stairs to his room, Carathyle removed the belt containing his prized sword but kept it well at hand until both of the nobles were well inside the room, and the door was closed.

"Please, take a seat." Carathyle kindly remarked, hanging the obsidian crafted longsword at the top of the bed before sitting down himself. "So, what was it we wanted to talk about? I believe it was about somewhat of my family's tradition? Or the obsidian blade?" Carathyle leaned back a bit into the chair, casually looking directly at the noblelady, "Let's start over the sword, shall we? How was your experience with it?"

First subject, Syjahel's experience with the obsidian sword.

_________________
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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Fri Jan 25, 2013 12:25 am
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Syjahel accepted the invitation with a polite nod of her head. Following Carathyle, she kept up a wary watch for any trouble out of habit, but was satisfied that two lethally-minded beings such as themselves could indeed have a conversation in relative peace when he laid aside (but not far away) the elegant obsidian blade of which he was so fond.

Settling gracefully into a seat, she paused in thought for a moment. The sword was a good place to begin, and something that she had experience of, however slight. She couldn't be sure how much interest her fellow noble would have in House Vasht's history - though, she mused, perhaps more than she might have thought given his offer of following her in the field - but in the darkly-gleaming weapon there was some common ground.

"It's a fine blade," she spoke in low tones, though loud enough to be heard in the room. "I have never seen such a sword; in fact I did not even know the volcanic glass could be made to hold the form. I have only seen it as sacrificial daggers before. But it is plain," she waved her hand, in an airy gesture of dismissal that the sword could ever be thought of as mundane, "that it is an enchanted blade and there is more to it by far."

She paused. The sword had spoken to her in what was, undoubtedly, perfect Druhir, a well-spoken highborn accent, and, like a noble of the Land of Chill, it had more behind the words. But how to put all this to Carathyle? He undoubtedly knew this; so what would it mean that she knew? Nothing is ever simple in Druchii politics. But just possibly, her companion in arms, sometime retainer perhaps, was simply interested in talking. So she continued,

"I promised that Khaine willing we would reap a red harvest, and I think this pleased the blade, for it spoke to me. I would like to say, he spoke, for the voice was male, well-spoken. It told me ... hmm ... that we could work together, the blade and I, that I should use it to carve a path of bloody ruin across the world until I was as decorated with holy crimson as a Bride."

You and I, the sword had whispered, you and I could do great things.

"He has a great thirst, that one."

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~ We Never Slept ~


Fri Jan 25, 2013 1:44 am
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"Yes, my father used to be rather blood-thirsty back in his days, a true worshiper of Khaine I might even say, that was until I cut him down nearly half a century ago, and again in the Tree of Hearts where it captured his soul." Carathyle leaned forward slightly, folding his fingers just before his mouth. "I suspected that he had spoken to you, which is something I'm not surprised at considering my father was one of similar qualities in his younger days as myself, including a good eye for blood-thirsty elements within oneself." His eyes left Syjahel for a few moments as he gazed at the rubies in the white skull within the glass orb. "And the smithing of such a blade is somewhat of a difficult process. Surely, my father wasn't overly thrilled that I used his greatest pieces in his collection to do such a thing, but it has lined my path in blood, and preserved mine so far."

"I have yet to decide whether I shall ignore his voice or indulge it. Either option has its consequences, so if I ever hand you it again, I believe you should ignore his voice. Druchii are seductive by nature, that is something we both know." Carathyle returned his eyes toward Syjahel, his voice matching the appropriate volume. His eyes glanced across Syjahel's body for a few moments, before he let out a soft sigh. The whole conversation about the sword went as he had expected. Coriath had spoken, thus partially forcing Carathyle's hand to participate as Syjahel's retainer to at least keep the secret within bounds. "I needn't remind you the strength it requires for the wielder to resist the frenzy his bloodlust might trigger."

A small grin appeared on his feature, as he recalled something. "We are not to talk and leave with a sore throat I assume. How about some of that wine you brought along?" Carathyle's attitude was surely to restrain his lips more than he would probably like toward the person who he would be protecting sooner or later, and as usual, a bit of alcohol was common way to loosen lips, other than torture, interrogation and threatening with these.

"Now that we got the topic of enchantments, before we switch to history, what caused your survival of the orge's club? That thing would normally have turned you into a pool of blood and gore." Carathyle's unease about the sword was slowly causing him to be actually willing to change the subject. The history of both families was surely fascinating, but there were more important matters to get a clear head around to start off with, until this has passed, they shan't take up the subject of history on their tongues if it were up to Carathyle.

_________________
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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Fri Jan 25, 2013 2:16 am
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Malekith's Best Friend
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"Your father?" Syjahel listened to Carathyle's explanation of the soul within the sword with a raised eyebrow of her own. That would explain the highborn timbre of the voice, the precise, eloquent tones. "Then may I congratulate you in besting him. I can fully understand the ambiguity of the promises he makes ... to spill blood is holy, yes, but I for one prefer to keep control of my actions."

"I prefer," she said, pouring some of the wine for each of them in plain view, an old habit schooled in her from childhood for dealing with those one wishes to assure of a measure of courtesy, "to choose my own times for indulgence and times for control. I do not wish to surrender to berserker bloodlust. But there is no denying, that is a powerful blade."

Noting the gaze that travelled frankly up and down her unarmoured form, she met his eye for a moment, with perhaps the faintest ghost of a fleeting smile.

"Noted; I shall be sure to keep careful attention on the honeyed words and silver tongues of the Maverics, lest they lead me astray. One never knows what they might do next."

It was an intriguing conversation. She enjoyed intellectual sparring. Just as thrust and counterstroke make swordplay, so must one contribute to duel with words, however playfully. Settling back in her chair a little, she considered Carathyle for a moment before answering his question, sipping her wine and watching him over the glass. An excellent vintage.

"The shield-amulet I wear was, without doubt, the source of the magic that protected me," she lifted the silver-cased wood splinter from its shadowed resting place, holding it up for a moment before letting it fall, "but there is a mystery for the wood was never enchanted by any that I knew. I had a shield before the one you've seen me use, a battered and noble servant of war that saved my life many times." And cost a few scum some teeth into the bargain, she thought, smiling a little more widely. "When it was finally wrecked beyond repair, I had a sliver of it set into a pendant as a talisman, to remind me of those times and, who knows, perhaps I hoped that some of its stalwart qualities might rub off on me."

"I had wondered if Naylia had somehow used it to channel energies to protect me, but ... no, I do not think so."
She took another sip of the wine.

"But thank Khaine it did so. I do not believe a mere sentimental attachment would have saved me. So there must be more to the amulet. Perhaps I will ask someone here to look at it, when time and circumstance allow."

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RIP Group 28
~ We Never Slept ~


Fri Jan 25, 2013 10:00 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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On leaving the convoy the mercenaries immediately split up. In battle they could show a uniform front but their backgrounds and upbringings were decidedly different and it showed. The two nobles knew at once that only the best was for them and short of renting a town house as Naylia was planing on that meant the Golden Dragon. Riding slowly through the streets together they only got lost once before finding a tall, elegant looking building. Four stories tall the inn was slender, almost a copy in miniature of a noble's manse. Crafted in wood with a stone foundation the in was painted a deep red making it stand out brilliantly on a street otherwise dominated by tones of grey. Over the entrance a large sign hung decorated with a vibrant painted dragon picked out in gold, hence the name.

Walking inside the two mercenaries in their serviceable but battered armour and long road fragrance attracted a few disproving looks from patrons and management alike but as was often the case a quick flash of gold was enough to convince them that these were indeed fitting patrons. Both took a room and plans were laid for baths and even a massage but first on the agenda was a stiff drink, true to her word Syjahel shelled out on a rather decent bottle of red stolen from the vineyards of Saphery. Repairing to Carathyle's room the two settled down to get to know each other a little better and indulge in curiosities the pressure of the road had not allowed them before.

Cananatra found the Four Winged Falcon a less inspiring sight. Where the Dragon towered the Falcon stood, just as large but squat, two stories but wide, dominating the road. A solid, dependable structure, not unlike the warrior himself. Entering Cananatra found a common room full of warriors, mostly guarding merchants, and one or two locals drinking by the bar. A reasonably talented bard stood on a small stage. Paying for a weeks board Cananatra sought out his bed. He was tired for all his strong constitution and was planing a busy day tomorrow.

The inn Jacks sought out was a very different place. Hidden down a backstreet the Broken Orc was more than a little broken itself. One of his windows had been replaced by a wooden shutter, very likely to save money on replacing a window. Smaller than the others the Ork seemed to be only a single story but Jacks' keen eye picked out the stair case leading down to basement level. Taking the stairs he found himself in as rough an establishment as he had ever come across. Sawdust covered the floor, the better to absorb beer, blood and vomit. Even early in the evening there was evidence of all three. The patrons seemed merry enough though in their own way. Bar a few elves sitting drinking quietly alone most of the patrons were in small groups, the only thing louder than their slightly drunken conversations was the very drunken singing coming from the largest band at the back. Jacks judged them to be soldiers of some sort, maybe sailors, of duty in any case. Despite the run down nature of the place the proprietor came to the door to greet Jacks warmly, shaking him by the hand and leading him to a nearby table. Sitting him down the elf turned to go but found Jacks' hand around his wrist, holding him in place while the shade retrieved his purse from the plump elf's greasy fingers. The barkeep grinned uneasily as Jacks let him go. Quite clearly this one was going to fit in quite well around here.

Having settled himself in there (not that it took much time, he certainly wasn't going to unpack) Jacks knew he needed to find somewhere to stable his horse. Grubby inns like the Ork didn't usually have stables partly because people who could afford a horse could afford a better place to stay and partly because horse stew goes for a half-penny a time from the kitchens. Places like the Golden Dragon on the other hand usually did and as Jacks was beginning to bond with the animal he wanted to see it looked after. If nothing else he knew that if he stabled Spike here the horse would be in good company. Paying a circlet a night for staling meant the horse cost half as much as his own accommodation, then again the Dragon's stable was arguably more comfortable than his hard bed at the Ork. Returning there Jacks sank a couple of drinks before turning in, and people only tried to rob him twice in the night. Fortunately his awareness course had included a few tips on tripwires and booby traps, it was fun to finally have a chance to try them out.

The morning brought the same thing to all of them, shopping. It also brought three of the four a hangover and for Jacks an attempted mugging on his way into the markets. Naggarond had several such market places catering to a variety of tastes, commodities and budgets. Surrounding each square the more established shop keepers had more formal boutiques. It would take a while to find what each of them wanted but almost everything the world had to offer (so long as it was within 20 miles of some sort of coastline) could be found somewhere, for the right price.

Syjahel didn't feel the need to buy but did have something to sell. She had long had an old short sword which she had almost never used and with more than enough equipment to lug about she was happy to sell it to an armourer. She didn't get much for it but if nothing else coins were easier to carry than swords. Knowing that her armour was in a bit of a state she also arranged to have it mended and cleaned as part payment. With this achieved she set out to find a courier company. There were those who undertook the dangerous task of carrying letters from one city to another, the better ones could even be relied upon not to open the packages, mostly (well, occasionally). After a few hours of searching and asking around Syjahel found in an office above a fish mongers the First Post Dark Rider LTD. For an exorbitant price they said they would carry a letter express delivery to the Vasht tower and to Sultra's mansion in Vikrah arranging transportation of her sword. For a much smaller fee she could leave the letters and wait until they had a delivery going to the respective cities anyway. Since it was not urgent she opted for the later and handed over C10 to cover the cost.

Cananatra had a much more hectic schedule. First on the list was an armourer. The heavy plate he had taken from a defeated Dalvian warrior had served him well but it had a few holes in it now and still bore the colours of a traitorous house. Finding an armourer willing to fix it was easy, finding one willing to repaint as well was a little harder but in the end it was done. This allowed him to move on to other business. Selling his old equipment brought in some more cash and certainly lightened his burden. Buying a shield Cananatra's eye was drawn to an unusual weapon, a black powder pistol of dwarven craftsmanship. It was very expensive but for once in his life the warrior was wealthy. The pistol came with twenty rounds of ammunition, shot and powder both. Another shop also yielded another shield. He took his time selecting a good one but did not want to buy anything too over priced, he had gotten into the habit of fighting some big monsters lately and his shields never seemed to last long. Leaving the armourers of Naggarond to count their gold Cananatra next sought out a jeweller to flog the crystal he had taken from Seijl's body. He didn't know much about it but it fetched a hefty price and with plenty of gold still in his pockets he found an apothecary to buy a couple of healing vials. Being tough didn't mean he couldn't get hurt, he knew that well enough.

His last order of business caused him the most trouble, despite an early morning start it was afternoon before he managed to locate an elf purporting to be a purveyor of magical artefacts. He suspected the hunting horn he carried of having some magical properties but had never yet worked out what they might be. For a small sum the elf promised to look at it in detail and Cananatra reluctantly handed it over promising to return in a couple of days. He hoped the sly looking she elf wasn't going to simply run off with the prise, murdering someone would attract all sorts of unwanted attention.

Carathyle also had a large shopping list. Knowing that he wanted to stay both well protected and mobile in a fight he decided to swap his medium armour for a suit of light ithilmar bands and chain mail. The master crafted light armour felt almost like air after the hefty medium plate but a few demonstrations convinced him it was just as strong. Selling some of his large arsenal to cover the cost Carathyle also took advantage of the huge variety Naggarond had to offer to seek out a longbow. They were not commonly used in Naggaroth but every now and then longbows were brought back from Ulthuan. As he was searching though Carathyle came upon a particulaly fine piece. Unlike the straight self bows of Ulthuan this appeared to be a recurve bow of exquisite quality. It was not a compound but rather (the bowyer explained) of sung wood, taken from an Asrai adventurer killed in a raid. The bow was expensive to say the least but Carathyle knew he had to have it and set down the money, purchasing an extra stock of arrows to be sure.


Jacks did not have so much to do but there were one or two errands to run. First finding a jeweller to sell his gem to the shade went looking for a replacement for his rather battered old cloak. He had had it for years but it was looking the worse for wear and now was the time to get a new one. He searched several shops before he found something fitting. Of shade manufacture but made for a Bloodshade he was certain. The cloak was tough and waterproofed on the outside and pattered to match the shadows while the inside was lined with fur warm enough to stave off even the Naggarothii chill.

Now that they had bought what they wished to buy and sold what they wished to sell all four mercenaries wanted to take this opportunity to indulge in a little extra training. For Syjahel this meant a crash course in the finer points of Sariya fencing. Finding a tutor in a city this size was easy, finding one to take her on at such short notice less so. In the end she had to resort to one of the smaller schools, a place that usually dealt with merchants children with pretentious rather than true nobility. The patronage of the noble of Vasht was prestigious enough to get her a place though not enough for anything close to free tuition. The principals were similar to those she had been taught as a girl and the first day was spent being scolded for all the 'bad habits' she had picked up in the field. It was strange to be fighting without her shield, it had become such a central part of her style, still things came back to her quickly and it was not long before she began on some more advanced techniques. She didn't have time to perfect them in such a short time but they could plant the seeds.

Cananatra did not want such advanced fighting techniques, his strength was his resilience, the ability to keep going after all logic said he should have given in. He was confident in his ability to take a blow but his run in the woods reminded him that his endurance was not unsatisfactory, not to him anyway. Finding somewhere with the proper facilities he found the barracks of one of the cities professional regiments. They had excellent facilities but remained of limits to the public. A hefty bribe to the sergeant and another to the officer of the day soon changed their mind however giving Cananatra all the time he wanted to train hard.

Carathyle had his eyes on something entirely. With his new armour he knew agility could be a key to his fighting style and he wanted to capitalise on this. Battle acrobatics was not unheard of in Druchii warriors though its most famed proponents were of course the assassins of the temple. Seeking out a trainer Carathyle parted with a considerable purse full of cash and began a week of running, jumping, flipping and vaulting.

Jacks, like Syjahel, had his mind on advanced combat training. He had found himself in close combat more times than he could count since he had joined this mercenary band and had often come away bloodied. With the evasive fury of Suithenlu Khythan perhaps he would acquit himself better still. He was not at all surprised to find a particularly old shade as his trainer. Working out of an old guild hall striped out for the purpose the retired campaigner seemed determined to teach him everything he knew or kill him in the process.

Training was hard for all concerned and consumed most of their days though a few hours were found to converse and drink their fill. After two days Cananatra returned to his dealer in artefacts to find that she had not attempted to rob him, which was a pleasant surprise. Upon seeing him the scarred she elf standing behind a folding counter produced the horn from underneath and set it down.
“So?" The warrior asked
“The object does indeed show signs of magic soldier,” she said, her voice hoarse and deeper than her slight frame would have suggested
“But its nature is yet undefined. The horn is redolent with raw energy, the winds of Ghur and Dhar blow with great strength within, however this energy is undirected. It would take a craftsman to attune this horn to release its potential, one of skill.” With this knowledge Cananatra was a little wiser.

More days passed and with each the mercenaries grew more proficient in their chosen discipline. The days passed swiftly and it seemed hardly any time at all before the day had come to seek out the town house Naylia was staying in. Word had found Syjahel and Carathyle at the Golden Dragon that she was living on the street of basilisks, the band gathered there, all together for the first time in a week, before making their way there. Naggarond’s streets were more familiar know, the press of bodies no longer disorienting as it had been after so long in the open wild. The four found the house without major incident and rode up towards the gate. It was a noble’s spire in miniature, slender but four stories tall and enclosed within its own compound just like the others along this road. There were guards on the gate but they recognised the mercenaries and waved them through the gates. A slave was waiting to take their horses and another led them inside the tower.

Inside it was richly appointed though not the equal of a true noble’s palace. Up two flights of spiral stairs they marched until they were led through an unassuming mahogany door and into a spacious drawing room. It was as different from Sultra’s office as light and day, a window allowed light in to bathe a carpeted floor strewn with divans centred round a low table un which rested various sweet meats and candies. A few of them had conspicuous holes, they were mostly the ones nearest to Naylia who lay on a plush purple chez longe. Also present were Liesh and two elves they did not recognise. Tall even sitting and with straw blond hair the first elf had aristocratic features that echoed those of the child oppose it him. He was dressed neither in robes nor armour but rather in a tight fitting khietan of black trimmed with jade green. Upon the lapel an embroidered circlet of iron could be seen and beneath it a number seven picked out in golden thread. This was the uniform of an officer in the Black Guard, from that and what Syjahel had told them on the road could only be Sultra’s son.

The second unknown figure was a strange sight. Towering over the seated officer the she elf was exceptionally tall but skeletally thin. A simple purple dress sheathed her body and a skull cap her head which was completely bare. She sat nearby Sultra’s son with the air of one not entirely comfortable with her surroundings. Liesh looked as though he felt the same way and unlike the other three he stood, hands resting on the back of a chair. As the mercenaries were announced and ushered into the room four pairs of eyes turned to regard them; of the four only Naylia seemed pleased to see them, Liesh’s eyes held a familiar veiled suspicion leavened with respect. This considerably better than the young lord to be; he looked at them like a butcher weighing meat, as for the odd looking she elf her eyes were unreadable.

“You are here,” Liesh stated the quite obvious fact" good. The young mistress wished to speak with you before she enters the convent tomorrow,”
“I wanted to thank you for rescuing me. I know you did it for the money but you over came soon terrible odds and tried to save my father. You are elves to rely on and any house has need of such. Unfortunately with me entering the convent and Kyran still in Malekith’s service for another twenty years the succession is a messy thing. The title passes to Kyran but he cannot administer the estate until he leaves the tower. My father’s will appoints Liesh as steward of the estate in this event, to maintain the properties and wealth of house Nagah. Still no steward can play the game of houses as an equal, we will lose ground. This means I am afraid that we no longer have need of you.” Naylia spoke in a voice that was by turns sympathetic and matter of fact; this state of affairs was far from ideal.
“But I think we might be able to sort you out, it would be a terrible waste to lose your talents. You don’t know my brother Kyran but he has a proposition for you.”

The black clad guard bowed his head to his sister with a mocking smile
“Yes thank you sister, you always did have a fondness for words. Do sit down,” he invited the mercenaries. His voice had more warmth than Sultra’s ever had though a good deal less of Naylia’s childlike enthusiasm.
“My sister and the good captain both vouch for you so I will tell you something not yet widely known. This age of hateful peace is nearly at an end. Preliminary steps have been taken quietly for a new invasion of Ulthuan, soon this secrecy will end and military preparations will begin in earnest.” He stood up and began to pace, still talking, the Nagah family did not lack for loquacious speakers.
“I wonder if you are familiar with the purpose of the seventh tower. We are the eyes and the ears of the throne; a wise elf said a dagger in the dark is worth a thousand spears at dawn, well we shall have need of both in the storm that is to come.” He stopped and turned to face them

“I have need of fighters of a certain sort. Tough, resourceful, skilled; above all able to work in a small team away from main command structures. Liesh seems to think that you are just such elves and my father trusted his judgement. The Witch King commands that we send teams to infiltrate the coastline and act behind the lines to disrupt the Asur scum’s ability to resist us. Kykysh Korpikiandi,” here he indicated the rather odd looking elf on the couch. “Has already accepted a part in this assignment, I am seeking a team to protect and support her, one which can cause maximum confusion to the enemy. I ask now, will you take such a charge to serve the realm and your king. You will have the honour to be amongst the first of this generation to say that they have fought where their fore fathers fought. For such a duty as this I seek volunteers, not conscripts.”

[u]Well this one took a while. You have your new skills and new equipment, please adjust your profile’s accordingly. Please also welcome Mini-grift to group 28, I am sure you will giving him a fitting welcome. You will have time to visit the city again now that you know a little of what you will be getting into (should you choose to accept this mission). Please feel free to ask any questions ect. -Drainial

_________________
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

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Sat Jan 26, 2013 8:49 pm
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... And Hell Followed
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There’s was a fine line between actual physical violence and the violence wrought by magical means. At least, one concluded, when portraying that violence upon your enemies. Both required discipline, both required patience and cunning. Today’s lesson, like the many before it, was frustrating for Kykysh, for though she could command a raging tempest and not break a sweat, wielding a weapon whilst retaining one’s temper was a skill she had yet to master. Her supple skin bruised easily and she was extremely reluctant to put said skin in harm’s way, and for many other reasons, too. Thankfully, she had suffered none recently.

Today’s lesson was one more befitting a gladiator pen than a mage tower, with both mages denied their arcane talents and watched over by their Mistress, they had to duel with quarter-stave and fighting staff. Kykish had speed and reach over her burly opponent, whom she had fought on many an occasion, though simply could not break the shorter girls technique. Fortunate or not, todays lesson was cut short as a messenger had arrived with a missive for the tall mage. She was secretly relieved since another minute would have had her losing her temper and gaining another blemish for her lack of physical restraint.

In her moderately furnished room the mage made herself a tea of herbs and honey, fetched the missive from her robes and placed it on her not-too-opulent desk. She seated herself and casually sipped her tea as she studied the letter. The message was sealed by the sigil of the Black Guard. Startled, Kykish broke the seal and perused the letter with some haste. A summons. One I cannot refuse. My, isn’t this exciting! Is this to be my first assignment? One would surely hope so, most assuredly so! Details are somewhat lacking but secrecy must be a priority, as ever, it never bodes well to give too much away to those lurking eyes and unseen…

The sorceress’ numbing monologue was broken by a sharp rap at the door. Kykish jumped to her feet, knocking over her stool and spraying precious, glittering gems to the heavens and yonder. Steadying herself, she then looked down at the chaotic splay of littered stones. No time for divining, but oh, something intrigues the soul with that neurotic display. Again, the knock came.

"Yes, yes. I'm coming."

Kykish opened the door to see the impatient face of her Matron, who spoke without preamble, clearly pleased for though her face was stern, the corners of her black lips curled cynically. "So, you are to be leaving us, then? It’s been a long time coming; you were ever the best of your Circle."

Kykysh narrowed her eyes as she looked down at her tutor for the past four years. "Thank you, Mistress." She nodded her head in a respectful manner and bowed slightly as she exited her room. Too long to be stuck here cramped by your miserable face. Ahem... "I shall return shortly to gather my belongings."

It was cold, dark and wet out in the streets of Naggarond. She looked up to the moon shrouded in melancholy clouds like a ghost in the shadows, and smiled whimsically. From here, her destination was perhaps an hour walk away. She had left with time to spare, so a slow, meandering walk allowing her the time for free-flowing thoughts was favourable.

All too soon she arrived at the gates of the ‘house’ to which she had been directed. A guard accosted her and Kykish showed him her summons and he let her pass without further incident. Inside was opulently furnished, like the tower though slightly less ostentatious. Kykish knew that the upper echelons of her home were even more flamboyantly furnished, for she had many chances to visit those hallowed halls, albeit briefly.

Her contact strode from a side room to greet her and the sorceress bowed to greet him, mostly to hide the furrowed brow her face made at the sight of an officer in the Black Guard with blonde hair – the image seemed to jar her preconceived ideas of what a Black Guard should look like. He seemed equally bemused to see her as he’d likely expected someone of a much shorter stature. He led her up to another fittingly furnished room, this one also decorated by two elven women and a table laden with exquisite foods, some of which Kykish didn’t even have a name for.

Introductions were made and Naylia, sat sprawled on a purple couch, beckoned for Kykish to be seated. The sorceress nodded her appreciation. After introductions the other three talked amongst themselves while the tall mage sat quietly. Kykysh was glad for their circumspection, for any questions posed to her would likely get an awkward answer. She sat, the bare skin of her arms and thighs still slightly damp from the drizzle of rain.

The Blonde Guard was then speaking to her directly and it took her a few moments to realise it, though he seemed not to notice her lack of attention. He went over the details of why she had been summoned and offered her a position where she could put her magical abilities to some valuable field practice. At least, that was how Kykysh looked upon the opportunity. Naylia’s brother – for she could not recall him ever mentioning his name, neither had he been introduced – wanted her for entirely different reasons, but after a little mental readjusting on her part, their goals seemed to coincide and Kykysh was amenable to his needs in ways he probably couldn’t even guess at. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded her acceptance of his offer.

Shortly after a group of mercenaries arrived and entered the room, Kykysh spared each of them the briefest of glances and otherwise kept her attention solely on whomever was speaking. Liesh spoke first, briefly introducing the young mistress who had so generously offered Kykish a seat. Once she had finished thanking them for her rescue and informing them of certain, irrelevant, issues within the Nagah household, her blonde brother then took up the one-sided conversational mantle.

Much of what he had to say Kykysh had already heard, so she took to studying her fingernails with an almost fanatical obsession. It was that or study the mercenaries stood before her and something told her they would not appreciate her curiosity. Only at the mention of her name did her head snap round, too quickly, but still she managed a dignified nod to the Black Guard.

Volunteers, is it? And why didn't I get that choice? Well, one mustn't grumble, must one? This is a chance for change and a change for chance, one which might prove most fortuitous given the annals of time. Casually and with actual interest, she looked up from her seated position to gauge the responses of the mercenaries who were to be her protectors on this most important of missions.

Awaiting the mercenaries responses.

_________________
Nathra Severain - Shade (Group 38)
WS:5 S:4 T:2 D:6 I: 3
Skills; Acrobatics; Basic Stealth; Free Running
Equipment: Longsword; Shurikens (6/10); Shade Cloak; Asur Arm & Leg Armour Plates; Misericorde; Gutting Knife
Inventory; Ornate Tiara; Sword Belt; Asuri Orb; 106 gold


Mon Jan 28, 2013 4:47 pm
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Malekith's Personal Guard
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Location: Dublin, Ireland
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Cananantra always got a somewhat disquieting feeling whenever he came upon the fabulously well appointed houses that the nobility favoured. He simply could not make himself forget the more run down one full of illusions and so continuously found himself checking for any minute suggestions that the building might be an illusion. A totally illogical impulse but one which he found difficult to remove, especially since the jaunt in the magical realm they visited on their last mission. The house itself was as to be expected. Clearly not the seat of a house, but one that a member of a house could no doubt stoop to living in, briefly. As he entered the walled grounds with his companions and slid from the horse he could not help but smile ruefully at how much more proficient he had become at riding. A far cry from the warrior who walked into lustria.

He handed the horse to a slave and followed a second to the meeting room. As he entered the room his eyes scanned the familiar faces and came to rest on the two unfamiliar ones. The first, a black guard by his garb was more or less unremarkable other than a marked resemblance to Naylia which clearly marked him out as a relative. The second though was very strange and for a brief moment Cananatra half expected her to change into something nasty. She was unusually tall, even sitting down and had she stood would no doubt have towered over everyone else in the room. Though he had to admit, the rode she wore did show off some tantalising glimpses of a well shaped body.

Before he could fully inspect the two though their host began to speak. Turns out they wouldn’t be re-hired, which was more or less expected. The black guard was her brother, also fairly unexpected. What was unexpected though was the mission her brother had for them. Infiltrate Ulthuan. “So what are these targets? I assume it isn’t just random havoc; and what is special about Kykysh’s part in the assignment?” Cananatra spoke as the brother finished. This better be a good plan with a damn good exit strategy because I don’t relish getting stranded on Ulthuan.

_________________
Group 28- Name: Cananatra; Warrior; Follower of Slaanesh
WS:4 S:4 T:5 D:4 I:3
Equipment: MC Long sword, Throwing Axe, Dagger, Heavy Armour, Slaanesh Amulet, Dalvian Hunting Horn, Rations x 7, Null stone x 1, 525 Gold, Dark Steed, Blackpowder Pistol [18/18]
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Ride, Endurance


Tue Jan 29, 2013 6:58 pm
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With a short bow to Naylia as the one she knew, and to the Black Guard who would logically be Sultra's son Syjahel took the offered seat. Liesh got a nod of recognition, he was a retainer after all but one she knew was senior in House Nagah. She nodded politely and formally once more to the other newcomer, a tall woman dressed in the purple robe of a Covenant Sorceress. She had not seen her before, but siting in the same room as a Black Guard would indicate her legitimacy and that was enough for Syjahel to wait before forming an opinion.

The young Sorceress-to-be spoke briefly of their part as mercenaries and their fight for her father, in which, Syjahel would agree, they had acquitted themselves nobly and beyond the cause for which they were recruited. Simply put as swords for hire they were no longer needed. Having seen just how many soldiers lay dead in the field, the young noblewoman disagreed, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She had no taste for being someone else's household knight, anyway, even had she been able. If she'd wanted mundane duties, the highborn could have stayed at home.

She turned to listen to the Black Guard. He was a tall, blond warrior, with a clear pedigree to Sultra's line, but it quickly became apparent as he spoke that the sneering whelp was no match for his father. Underestimating a child of Naylia's temperament was never wise, and he doubtless had not been home for some time for the way he spoke of her was a foolish dismissal. Syjahel did not quite mask a grim smile at this, as there was plenty in his words that might merit such an expression. On the one hand, working secretly for the Black Guard meant that they had need of less valuable operatives; Syjahel was under no illusions about that. On the other, one had to reckon that against the possibility of drawing the favour of Malekith, and it would be a foolish noble, especially a youngest child, who overlooked that chance.

Duty ...honour ... for your King ... fine words; a strange offer to make, taken at face value, but of course the more accurate summary of "has need of disposable warriors for possible suicide mission we can trust to get the job done" didn't sound half as attractive. For a moment, Syjahel Vasht was done with being the disposable minion of House Nagah. The old Lord hadn't hesitated to use her as monster fodder; though she regretted his death, at the same time - in a finely-tuned piece of highborn Druchii doublethink - she also regretted not being the one to pay him back in kind for his treatment. She thought back to the one time she'd had a chance at his back, in the fight with the Lahmia. And what had she done? Spared him for the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of all that she held dear for lost Nagarythe.

Ulthuan ... the word stirred up so many emotions. There was hatred there of course, bred into her bones with the cold north chill. But there was more than this. To think of walking on Nagarythe soil ... again ...

The wave that engulfed the lands below them, racing, was faster than a riptide and climbing with lethal speed. As the sky roiled, and magical energies made the air bitter and metallic, her beloved lands crumbled and fell, folding, tearing ... she felt the cold slap of water on her cheek - the hand hauling her up, pulling her in to the cold stone ...

Syjahel shook herself and stopped, not wanting the young Lord to take it as a dismissal. Cananatra, ever the practical mercenary, had spoken asking for more details. To cover her momentary confusion she said,

"My compatriot is right; we will need to know more than this. Of course we are willing to serve our King, that is our purpose as Druchii." This much was expected, and it came as easily to her tongue as a catechism. "No doubt you have many cadres of elite and stealthy fighters who would serve you. May I ask what it is of our particular talents you wish to call upon? And though it seems we are getting a reputation for escorting the magically-skilled, what is our desired role in protecting the Lady?" She did not voice the private notion that confusion was a special skill at least one of her warband had, for it was not likely to be useful on her own side. She looked once more at the tall newcomer. It seemed Black Guard were all business and no social graces, another point Kyran lost to his father.

"Well met, Kykysh Korpikiandi. I am Lady Syjahel of House Vasht, daugher of Lord Kherandis Vasht. I welcome you to our company. May I introduce Lord Carathyle Maveric; Cananatra, veteran of the Lustrian campaigns, and Jacks of the Hill Clans." She ended with a small formal bow of her head and turned back to Kyran.

"We are mercenaries, yes, but I will not force anyone to come with me. Speak as you wish. For myself, Master Nagah, I burn to walk our ancestral lands again and wash them with a tide of Asur blood."
It was simple, really. Already the idea of being in Nagarythe (once more?) was a fire in her blood. She turned a scintillating smile to the Black Guard and noted, in passing, that he wasn't as handsome and distinguished as Sultra had been. A pity, that.



That's one yes for Ulthuan and more details. Unless it happens to be really really off-putting details in which case we take it from there.

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~ We Never Slept ~


Tue Jan 29, 2013 7:54 pm
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Arriving at the house where Naylia was located, Carathyle simply followed his companions up the stairs. The new Master Crafted light armour felt extremely out of place for some reason. Surely, the steel would hold, and the fact that there was less steel to hinder him was a given, but he had never expected it to be this light. It felt as if he wore cloth instead of hardened steel, but then again, the light weight armour did have a decent amount of weight, it just wasn't the same amount as he was used to carrying with him. The obsidian longsword at his side and his shield still on his arm, the Druchii noble carried a few weaponry as undruchii like as himself most of the times. Though some may argue that, even we, the Druchii, were Asur once and probably lose their heads in the process, there was a truth in the words that were to be spoken, and Carathyle was one of such elfs. Hatred toward their fellow kin was only natural, but Carathyle only hated them for driving the entire race of Druchii from Ulthuan, banishing those that would wish to return. The thought of never returning was one that must occupy most Druchii who have either had seen, had heard of, or been on Ulthuan.

Carrying the Mastercrafted Longbow on his back and a quiver filled with arrows forged of Druchii metal, Carathyle opted to travel back to his birthplace, Har Ganeth, to see to the estate that is still there and well guarded until his return by his younger brother, Coriath, and some of the guards that he had trained through his younger years. The small remainder of his father's Obsidian collection was still there, perhaps enough for Carathyle to forge some arrowheads or a dagger. The art of Obsidian forging still remained somewhere in the back of Carathyle's head, though it was more of an art form than actually forging. Just like the statues of his father were sculpted, obsidian had to be slightly heated first, then cut into shape by means only those that have possession of a self-made Obsidian weapon. The amount of training that Ferion, Carathyle's tutor, had before he would even dare to forge a piece as brilliant as Carathyle's longsword.

That wasn't the thing that made the youngster's weaponry unique, it was the user that made the difference, and the sudden enchantment of his longsword.

Arriving at the room that they were guided to, Carathyle took up position behind Syjahel, even when the offer to sit down was offered, he remained there. His hands simply gripping the chair, his eyes focused on all the "new" elements in the room. Listening to the conversation going back and forth, Carathyle simply thought about the proposal. The moment Cananatra and Syjahel had voiced their opinion, Carathyle sighed slightly, before starting. "As the questions of what and why have already been asked, I shall bring in the question how. How will we get on there, and how will we get off the island once we're done, if you expect us to return that is. We already went on a suicide mission once if there ever was one. We fought against Elfs, Daemons, Beastmen and even a Daemon Prince, so if there ever was a suicide mission, it would be that. Capable as our hated cousins might be, they are little a match if we have the element of surprise, so unless you want us to actually reap havoc, seal any opportunity for the invasion to success, please by all means say so. However, your talk about causing as much of a ruckus as possible is something that is bothering me." Carathyle voiced, before looking at the sorceress for a few seconds. "I plan to keep my word, so the decision for me has already been made when someone else here made it."

Returning to a full stance, Carathyle looked at the sorceress extensively this time. "As for the sorceress, I can only say that I'm not too pleased with her company due to previous experiences." Before stepping into the background to listen to the replies from this point onward. But before he stepped back, he turned toward Jacks. "Be careful my friend, I heard that bedding a sorceress is punished with death. Try to keep a good focus if she indeed comes along." Carathyle whispered, a joke to lighten up the mood a bit was always welcome.

Carathyle, the loyal, aggressive and reckless watchdog of Lady Syjahel Vasht. So he goes where she goes.



OOC: Coreleth is Carathyle's Father, Coriath is Carathyle's little brother and Irilia is Carathyle's step-sister. Just to have thing clear for future references.

_________________
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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Wed Jan 30, 2013 5:12 pm
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At the word of Ulthuan, Jacks' eyes widened as his mind was invaded by a strong flow of memories. Anger flashed before his eyes as his fists clenched and shook, there was no betrayal of Hatred, nothing to mask it.

Ulthuan dogs, you had as much fault in my loss as I did myself. I will have you feel my anguish and have you live it yourself.

"I will gladly take part, it was what I was specialised in doing before coming here. I will finish what I started."

With that, he didn't necessarily mean the disruption task itself, he meant his task of revenge. His blood was racing at the anticipation of the task at hand, was it fate that made him return to that fateful place? One thing's for sure, he wasn't about to let his captain die of the same fate. Suspicion grew in Jacks' eye, will history repeat itself? Will Kykysh betray his captain like how Leifon betrayed Tiarra? Jacks' feared this to be the Dark Mother's way for a cruel joke, but he had companions this time, he wasn't alone, if that was any consolation.

Vote yes

_________________
What's mine is mine, What's yours is mine.
Now that we understand each other, lets get down to business.

Jacks -Shade
- WS 5 - - S 3 - - T 2 - - D 6 - - I 5 -

Equipment
Short Sword, MC Long Sword*, Dagger, RxB & RHB [20/10] MC Shade Cloak, 4 Throwing Daggers, 3x Healing Vials, 451C, [3]Dark Venom, [4]Unseen Chains, Food, Dark Steed- Spike

Skills
Basic Stealth, Awareness, TWF, Suithenlu Khythan, Ride

Magic Item
Eye of the Jabberwock

*Magical properties possibly imbued


Sun Feb 03, 2013 6:21 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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The interview did not seem to have gotten off to a particularly warm start, but then that was to be expected. Kyran was much younger than his enigmatic father, hardly older than the mercenaries if at all. The wisdom and cunning of centuries was not yet his but still it would be a mistake to discount him. One did not rise in the ranks of his read majesty's elite without talent no matter who your father had been. He took in Syjahel's claims to nobility along with Carathyle and the status of Cananatra and Jacks unblinkingly, no doubt Naylia and Liesh had already filled him in thoroughly, this was not a task to be given to those you did not know after all. For once all of the mercenaries had something to say, mostly demanding more details but in their hearts all of them burned with the desire to return to the land of myth and strike at the Asur. It was in their blood, beaten into every Druchii from the highest to the lowest every moment of their childhood. That said non of them wanted to be stranded alone behind enemy lines with no more back up than an unknown magical accomplice. Carathyle at least was uncomfortable with even the notion of serving alongside a sorceress but that was something all Druchii would have to get used to if total war was once again on the cards.

Kyran actually smiled at the end of the barrage of questions and pronouncements, something they had rarely if ever seen Sultra do. The warmth in his eyes was rather disconcerting coming from a member of the Black Guard.
"Details, of course. Well first of all yes we do have many agents expert in infiltration and guerilla war, we shall be using them. Do not be so arrogant as to assume the Witch King's war effort is to be placed solely into the hands of sell swords no matter what their references." His tone belied his harsh words and as he spoke he sat, crossing his legs in a nonchalant way and picking at a tray of pastries.

"We do want chaos along the coast, but you are correct in that it is a secondary goal. I am sure even the less well educated amongst you will be familiar with the way stone network, in passing at least. They are, amongst other things, part of the vortex holding back the daemons of Chaos from erupting over the land and holding back the flow of magic. For these reasons there is nothing so certain to provoke a response from the Asur than meddling with them. That is why you need to escort the sorceress here to the way stone we will send you to, they cannot be damaged by mundane means. Not only hat but the mists around Ulthuan make targeted navigation impossible without the use of Azyr mages, a field in which miss Korpikandi excels I am told.

"You will sail soon, the ships are being readied over the next few days. They will be followed a few weeks later by the vanguard of our navy who will form a bridgehead in the lands of Cothique and Yvresse close to your location. You will then be able to link up with those forces and join the war effort as would be your duty and I am sure pleasure in any case. You may not believe me but this is not a suicide mission, it is a dangerous one no doubt but this will be a long war, we need to husband our resources. You may die, but at least it will be to a purpose greater than the internecine bickering of nobles in this land of chill."
Finishing his bite sized treat he stood up once again

"As I said before we do not want conscripts for this task, there will be room enough for them in the shield wall. I will find others if I must but if you are willing to serve your king and earn the honour of being in the first wave of this new invasion report to the Wave Viper on dock fourteen at dawn three days from now. Unless you have any further questions I will take my leave of you. Liesh, dear sister." He nodded to the aforementioned.

[u]Like I say, any more questions ask away. If not take a few days to pick up any further gear you might want and get to know our new member (damn is that name going to take some time to memorise the spelling of. -Drainial/u]

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Mon Feb 04, 2013 5:11 pm
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No sooner had the Blonde Guard finished talking the four mercenaries bombarded him with questions. Some short, some not so. The first warrior got straight to the point, and considering the others penchant for loquacity - which was not a quality to be admired in most - Kykysh appreciated his brevity. The sorceress was then surprised when a sultry female voice spoke up, introduced herself and her companions and welcomed her into their company. Kykysh smiled her thanks for the welcoming words and nodded her head respectfully to the 'Lady' Vasht.

The next to speak did so at length with certain, boring and irrelevant details about past missions and such. But then Carathyle looked down at her briefly and Kykysh met that gaze again just a few seconds later after he had accepted his part in the mission. She met his gaze unflinchingly, but as soon as Carathyle looked away her mind began to wander. We have never met so how can you claim to have previous experiences with me? Perhaps, then, I invade your dreams, which would then beg the question: what are you doing dreaming of me?

The last to speak was Jacks, an unusual name, but like Cananatra before him, he kept his words brief. The hatred in his eyes was clear to see, he needed no such reassurances or details of the mission to come, he simply accepted for his own reasons. An unsullied mind is a mind at peace, yet there looked to be nothing peaceful about this Jacks.

The Blonde Guard was once again speaking - at length. The gangly sorceress stifled a yawn. Details, details, details, more details. Why do they bore me so? Well, Kykysh, you have already answered that question time and again. Details are needed for... She had already heard all of these details, though not quite so... detailed. It was unnecessary for her, but for those possessed of a less honed intellect, more details were always better.

Kykysh unfolded herself from her seated position, rose to her full height - all seven foot four inches - and nodded to her new commander. "Thank you for offering me this assignment. I shall await the Viper at dawn, three days hence."

The mage stepped back and once again gave her new companions a cursory look, until her misty grey eyes settled on Syjahel. "Thank you for the welcome. This assignment shall be interesting and so, I hope, will the company. I shall see you anon." Kykysh bowed gracefully, then left.

Just before she left through the door by which she had entered, she said quietly. "No more dreams for you, Mr. Maveric."

Outside, Kykysh left the courtyard of the nobles' house and once again studied the moon.

Kykysh has accepted her part in the mission and waits for her companions outside (though, she knows it not).

_________________
Nathra Severain - Shade (Group 38)
WS:5 S:4 T:2 D:6 I: 3
Skills; Acrobatics; Basic Stealth; Free Running
Equipment: Longsword; Shurikens (6/10); Shade Cloak; Asur Arm & Leg Armour Plates; Misericorde; Gutting Knife
Inventory; Ornate Tiara; Sword Belt; Asuri Orb; 106 gold


Tue Feb 05, 2013 12:49 pm
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Introducing new elements into her group was part of life as a mercenary Captain. Though she was polite enough to Syjahel herself, which respect she appreciated, the lady of the House of Vasht had already formed some minor concerns about the tall Sorceress. She'd seen many strange sights in her time - an Elf with teal skin among them - but never a Druchii as towering as this. She wore the strange proportions well, but there would be no stealthily hiding ths one in the field. The spellcaster could barely sit through a short briefing without yawning, which was a greater concern, as if there was one thing Syjahel could say about military commanders it was that they loved the sound of their own voice. As part of an invasion force they could no doubt look forward to many such speeches, and they would require an exercise of patience. An impatient mind with command of the Winds of Magic boded ill for everyone. She hoped that, for all their sakes, it was just a shaky first impression. After all, Kyran wasn't the most charismatic of speakers, especially with a mouthful of Norscan pastry. Perhaps she would warm to her in time as she had done Sinfulblade. She still missed the aggravating wit of the blue berserker occasionally, when she wasn't concerned with surviving attacking mutants or providing covering fire. And Kykysh was gone now, on whatever errand suited Sorceresses best in times like these. The young Black Guard, however, was very much here.

They are, amongst other things, part of the vortex holding back the daemons of Chaos from erupting over the land and holding back the flow of magic. If there was one thing guaranteed to catch her ear it was this simple statement. Syjahel knew her history of course; House Vasht was pleased to trace its lineage back to Nagarythe and never let its children forget the fact. She reminded herself that Kyran was also in trying circumstances, having been suddenly thrust into the leadership of a much-depleted House, so perhaps that was why he assumed the exact opposite of what she's said with regard to operatives and missions. She took a breath before speaking.

"So if I may just clarify - we are to find one of the way stones set in place to keep daemons at bay and prevent the world from being overrun in a tide of Chaos, madness and death, and we are to ... mess with it."
Syjahel couldn't quite keep the disbelief out of her voice. "I have no doubt, Master Nagah, that this will attract the attention of the Asur but how are we to hope that the Ruinous Powers will draw the divide between mere attention-seeking and their rule on earth?"

"In layman's terms then - for I am not a magician, and I have only brothers so there are no Will-Workers in my House - ah, I have no subtle words for you. Why? If it is a distraction for Asur mage forces then surely one that has less catastrophic consequences for the underpinnings of the world can be found?"

"We have had our fill of daemons. I wish to help the war effort but you appreciate that one does not simply walk into Ulthuan and assault the pillars of Reality." She fixed her green eyes on Kyran in appeal, silently willing him to take the offered verbal lifeline. If they were to accept such a mad mission, they would need to know at least a little more about the chances of causing the world to spring a leak.



One does not simply walk into Ulthuan.

Unless the noble vs noble Q&A goes very badly, one healing balm will be given to Naylia in case she (or her teacher) can usefully study its properties, then Syjahel wants to go and buy some more normal healing balms as a backup. This will be her plan even if it turns out that she's going home to prepare for invasion with her family, which is probably what she'll want to do if Kyran can't tell her enough to make the mission seem a bit less crazy to her.


OOC: Not being deliberately obstructive here. Just got to know we're not going to blow up the world :D

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~ We Never Slept ~


Tue Feb 05, 2013 6:26 pm
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Kykish was already out of the door and Kyran was almost out after her when Syjahel spoke up seeking clarification. With a barely suppressed sigh he turned back

"In layman's terms then, the way stone network is vast stretching around the globe, though there is a concentration on the isle. Disabling one will not bring down the walls of reality, it is not so easily done. I am sure you are well aware of our legends and our history, to break the vortex is no easy thing. Damaging a waystone will cause some small local impact but there is certainly no possibility of apocalypse. And you shall not be flailing around to find one, we shall be directing you towards your objective quite carefully. The point is not to unleash a daemonic horde but to force the Asur to waste resources and hinder their efforts to mobilise a general defence. I hope that puts you at your ease."

I will answer such questions as they come - Drainial

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Tue Feb 05, 2013 10:49 pm
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With the sorceress leaving, implying of him dreaming of her, Carathyle couldn't help but simply frown at her appearance. "You have been warned." he mumbled to himself, slowly resting his hand on the pointy pommel of the obsidian crafted sword. His eyes were fixated at the black guard member. As much as he respected their ranks, Carathyle couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy about him. Something about his attitude toward the mercenary group made him wary, and wary meant that Kyran was at more danger than he'd probably anticipate. Not giving away his rather uneasy feeling about the guardsman, let alone their newly acquired meat-shield Kykysh, Carathyle remained near the door, overlooking the room.

Naylia remained quiet, and Syjahel asked the general questions. Among things, Carathyle wasn't sure about Kyran's anticipation of how the wall of reality worked even if he was part of the Black Guard, but these matters didn't bother him completely. The judgment of Syjahel was enough for Carathyle to step in or stay out of this, but from what he remembers of the conversation, they could either choose to do it, or someone else does it for them.

"You seem a bit too focused on the way stones, there are more than one ways to take out their potential of mobilizing a general defense. We all know the tales of Malekith being beaten by Caledor, if this hag can put her magic where her attitude is, she might overpower Caledor by herself." Carathyle placed his foot against the wall and crossed his arms before continuing, "Not only that, but I had my fair share of Daemons for this year. Still, I promised to Lady Vasht that I shall be her retainer, so I shall follow her through any battle, and avenge her may she fall to our foe."

Neither true Druchii, nor true Asur, I shall walk the thin line in between as a mere shadow of what used to be. Carathyle thought, gazing from Kyran to Syjahel.

As said above, when released, Carathyle will spend the days getting used to the bow, target practice... and stuff.

_________________
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Carathyle Maveric:(Group 28 Warrior)
Ws:5 S:4 T:3 D:4 I:3
Equipment:
Enchanted* Obsidian Long sword, MC Light armour, Dark Steed(Sephirah), Shield, MC Longbow(89 arrows), 56 Circlets, Maibed Dagger, Asur Spear and Disguise.
Age: 89
Skills: Ride, Acrobatics
*Increased Strength, holds the soul of his father


Tue Feb 05, 2013 11:43 pm
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It seemed that the young black guard would withhold most of the information needed, perhaps out of sheer Druchii instinct however Syjahel’s questions did seem to pull out a few more answers before he had managed to leave. He wanted them to cause something of a localised demon incursion, if Cananatra was reading his intentions correctly. If they managed to get clear of it all well and good, if not, the distraction would still be a success. It did bother him somewhat that the layout of the mission was so sketchy, and brought to mind possible betrayal. Judging by Carathyles face, something about the situation upset him too, though what exactly it was remained unknown; and Cananatra was in no mood to converse with him. Despite all this, Cananatra realised he did harbour a desire to see his peoples original homeland and the possible rewards would seem to make this mission acceptable. “I’ll see you all at the ship then.”

Cananatra isn’t going to be doing any more shopping (mainly so as not to be loaded down too much). He’ll go to the ship at the appointed time.

_________________
Group 28- Name: Cananatra; Warrior; Follower of Slaanesh
WS:4 S:4 T:5 D:4 I:3
Equipment: MC Long sword, Throwing Axe, Dagger, Heavy Armour, Slaanesh Amulet, Dalvian Hunting Horn, Rations x 7, Null stone x 1, 525 Gold, Dark Steed, Blackpowder Pistol [18/18]
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Ride, Endurance


Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:46 pm
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"So long as there's a way back, that's enough for me."

"So I can continue my hunt if that b**** is not there."

Jacks said nothing more, he had a voyage to prepare for, so he left with a brief bow lest he offended the young master. Interfering with waystones wasn't exactly what he had in mind, it attracted unwanted attention and it was only going to cause lots of trouble if they got caught. But still, he had hoped to revisit the site where he had lost Tiarra, he needed affirmation of his resolve, to make sure it wasn't all a big mistake.

No questions, just going to hit the market to pick up a dagger and a vial of unseen chains and dark venom and some healing balms.

_________________
What's mine is mine, What's yours is mine.
Now that we understand each other, lets get down to business.

Jacks -Shade
- WS 5 - - S 3 - - T 2 - - D 6 - - I 5 -

Equipment
Short Sword, MC Long Sword*, Dagger, RxB & RHB [20/10] MC Shade Cloak, 4 Throwing Daggers, 3x Healing Vials, 451C, [3]Dark Venom, [4]Unseen Chains, Food, Dark Steed- Spike

Skills
Basic Stealth, Awareness, TWF, Suithenlu Khythan, Ride

Magic Item
Eye of the Jabberwock

*Magical properties possibly imbued


Sun Feb 10, 2013 2:47 am
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Even with explanation, this was still not a plan Syjahel liked. Kyran did little to assuage her doubts, but he was a Black Guard and used to following orders. She watched him go, thoughtfully. Cananatra seemed to have enough to make up his mind, Jacks likewise; Carathyle had decided to nail his colours to her mast. The Sorceress came as part of the deal, so that only left her and her misgivings.

Amid all her concerns, the young highborn had to admit that the call to walk their ancient homelands was strong. With the prospect of actually reaching them held out before her, how could she truly turn down the chance? In her mind's eye she could see the same pictures conjured by the tales her brother Tanathrys had told her, when as a small child she'd hung on every word of his seafaring tales. Her visions were neither help nor hindrance to her here, for they were all of the drowned lands.

"Well, Master Carathyle, it seems you like it no better than I but we set sail for Ulthuan. I can only hope Khaine will watch over us as we do his work."

Turning to Naylia she said,

"I wish you well in your studies. Along the way we found these healing treatments - they do not seem like others I have used." She took one of the balms out of her secure pouch. "You would be welcome to study it if you wish milady; perhaps they can be replicated."

"I doubt our paths will cross, Naylia, but I see a bright future ahead of you and I know you will make your father proud."


Well enough of sentiment, she was unaccustomed to it, and with a bow the Captain took her leave. Time to prepare for this fool's errand.



Some little time talking with Carathyle, then off to get healing balms and make sure she has a good enough supply of things that may be hard to get on campaign, like some decent soap. And make sure the week includes at least one hot bath and massage, little chance of getting those on ship!

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RIP Group 28
~ We Never Slept ~


Sun Feb 10, 2013 5:09 am
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