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Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:05 am
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Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
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Sirulleathe gave a nod of thanks to the shade, when no-one else raised any objections, he sheathed his weapons and leant against the wall, studying his companions carefully, “It seems pointless trekking all the way to Ghrond only to find we must return here to consult this ‘contact’ of Malthang’s, I suggest we visit there first.” The rest of the group seemed to agree with this, so they made their way out of the flesh house and back onto the streets of Vikarh. Dinil gave the new recruit a questioning look, “It’s alright, he is one of us now,” said Loathren.
“May he live long enough to regret it,” chuckled Lenya. Dinil was looking uncomfortable, and paler than usual.
“Something wrong?” queried Malthang.
“Well, my arm is getting worse,” replied Dinil. “I think I ought to go see a healer, get it looked at.” The warrior was tense, a hand on his sword, perhaps expecting the others may take the chance to eliminate him. The Hunters shared a glance, Loathren gave a slight shake of his head.
“Very well,” sighed Malthang, “go, there will be other hunts for you.” Dinil relaxed, taking his hand off his sword and gesturing his thanks, then turned and strode off down one of the side streets, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.
“And then there were four,” whispered Sirulleathe under his breath, nobody seemed to hear him.
“Very well, my contact is further into the entertainment district,” said Malthang, pointing in the opposite direction to the one Dinil had taken, “I suggest we start moving.”

Half an hour later, the bounty hunters arrived at an inn, passing through the door, the armed band glanced around the room. A few customers looked up, then swiftly returned to their drinks when they saw the fearsome group enter, hoping not to attract attention. Malthang stalked across the room, his footsteps lighter than a cat’s, even when he wasn’t on alert the shade moved like a ghost, slipping from shadow to shadow and making not the slightest sound in his passing. Giving the Barman a nod, Ravensbane slipped through a curtain to a dank back room. The walls were lined with shelves of curios and trinkets, wool of bat and tongue of dog sort of things, as well as some more practical objects such as the occasional dagger or shortsword. A large, butterfly-bladed axe hung in one corner, surrounded by ornamental jewellery boxes, a set of smithing tools and what might be some sort of exotic musical instrument, along with an assortment of less identifiable odds and ends which could only collectively be described as junk. In the centre of the room sat a small square table with a witchlight placed upon it, and a set for the game of dragon’s teeth laid out. Malthang smiled upon seeing the pile of bone-dice on the table, turning to his companions he explained the purpose of the game. “Old Maleth has a creative way of extracting payment, to ask a question you must play a round, if you lose you have to pay him, if you win you don’t. simple enough.” A cackling laugh emanated from one of the dark corners, an ancient-looking Druchii moved into the flickering greenish light cast by the globe, and sat down at the table, gathering up a handful of the bones.
“Fair’s fair, life’s a gamble and so is my business, not right to charge you straight off for what I give, information is a tricky thing, it can help and it can hinder, so lady luck decides what you get and what you give.”
“Very generous of you, because playing a game of chance against a sorcerer is perfectly fair,” commented Malthang drily. Maleth gave a wide grin, which was long on gums and drastically short on teeth. “Shall we,” he said, motioning to the other seat, Malthang took the chair and picked up another handful of dice. “What’s the stake?”
“Depends on the question,” grinned Maleth, as he cast his dice across the table, “You’re going to have to roll good though if you want to beat that.”

Right, you’re in the back room with the informant, each of you can ask him as many questions as you like, just bear in mind each one will cost (probably around a gold piece each), so make your posts with your questions and we can take it from there (You can go overdrawn on your accounts, it will be taken out of any gold you earn later, you can assume you carry around a bag of money and your actual gold coin count is the profits you have made whilst in the group, this overdraft facility is only for small change amounts though and capped at 10 gold pieces so you can’t go buying arms and armour using this facility). Highborn on Black Dragon is out of the group for now, if he comes back onto the forums and wants to start again Dinil may be written back into the story. Are the deadlines too short? We haven’t had all four players post in weeks and most of the time it is just one or two, should I extend the deadline’s to be weakly rather than twice weakly? For this weak the deadline is Sunday for a mod post on Monday next week and we’ll see how that works out.

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Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Mon Feb 14, 2011 10:20 am
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Location: Edinburgh, Scotland
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OOC: Sorry I've been away. Girlfriend is moving away this weekend so have been spending free time with her. That and the first of the Six Nations games at Murryfield was last weekend, so work has kept me busy. Sorry again!!

IC: Lenya had kept quiet for some time, preferring to let the others decide what to do about the mysterious elf. Then, if things went wrong later, she couldn't be blamed for allowing him into the group. The sudden leaving of Dinil had been something of a surprise but she didn't view it as much of a loss seeing as how they had just gained a new recruit to replace him. Lenya made sure to stay behind the newcomer, always watching him for trickery with a hand on her dagger, ready if he made a sudden movement.

They moved from one shady establishment to another, the only advantage of the second seemed to be that patrons were afraid of her instead of the other way round. Nevertheless, her hand didn't stray far from her blade in case any of them got any silly ideas into their head. The old elf was repulsive, causing Lenya to instinctively take a step back when she saw him. She had no desire to play a game of chance with him, let alone take the seat opposite him, so she gestured to Malthang to take the seat. She stayed back, wanting to see exactly what happened to Malthang before she worked out what she should do.

_________________
Lenya Talos

WS: 4
S: 3
T: 2
D: 4
I: 5

Equipment: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak, Small Brass Ring. 5 Gold

Skills: Basic Stealth.


Wed Feb 16, 2011 2:23 pm
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Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
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Malthang rattled the dice in his fist as he considered his question, he didn’t so much as glance at Maleth’s roll, he knew the score rolled by the wizened hedge-sorcerer would always be enough.
“I wish to know where I can find an elf named Varranaithe,” Malthang declared as he cast his dice onto the table. Maleth watched the dice intently as they landed, his face a mask of concentration. The bones clattered to a halt, the vauvalka tutted under his breath and shook his head in an expression of mock regret.
“That’s a nice roll, but not quite good enough to beat mine, you’ll have to pay up.’ The sorcerer favoured Malthang with another of his ghastly smiles, the shade winced.
“How much this time?” he asked wearily.
“For you? A regular customer and good friend…”
“Steady on,” cautioned the shade.
“One gold piece.”
Malthang nodded and tossed the coin over, then looked expectantly at Maleth, waiting for his answer. The informant cleared his throat and got to his feet, throwing his arms wide in a dramatic pose, “Hear me now Oh child of the shadows, for your quest is dark and perilous, and-”
“Get on with it,” snapped Malthang. Maleth sniffed discontentedly, annoyed at being interrupted, he sat back down with a huff and cast a withering glare at the shade.
“Just trying to add a dash of theatre, do not belittle me. I am a prophet of the future and wielder of arcane magics, my mind soars on winds not of this world and I can call forth powers beyond your comprehension, I see all, know all, and you would do well to fear me.”
Malthang snorted with contempt.
“You are a filthy old elf living in the back of a rundown hovel, who sold his soul to a demon in return for the power to cheat people at dice.”
“I can do illusions too,” said Maleth in a hurt voice, “I also offer a comprehensive business advice service.”
“Just get on with it.”
“Alright, you can find the elf you’re looking for in the North Tower, he is being sheltered by a captain of the guard there who owes your mark for bailing him out when he was caught dallying with a superior’s woman. Happy?” Malthang bowed his head with a mocking smile, then stood up, taking a place by the door. Lenya seemed reluctant to go within five feet of the old elf, and Sirulleathe looked content to wait, so Loathren took the seat next.
“I wish to know what sort of protection Varranaithe might have, when we catch him we have to kill him so I want to know whether he is a good swordsman, will have lots of friends protecting him and so on, what do you know of the man himself when it comes down to a scrap?”
Maleth smiled thinly, then gestured at the dice upon the board, gathering up a handful he cast them across, they fell with a collection of sharpened bones pointing upwards, Maleth tutted again.
“The horns, won’t take much to beat that, looks like you’re in luck laddy.”
Loathren tossed his own dice across the board, his face turning sour as he saw the result of his own roll.
“too bad,” cackled Maleth, “A gold piece if you please.” Loathren reluctantly sent a coin skittering across the table into the old elf’s hands.
The sorcerer was quiet for a moment, perhaps gathering his thoughts, then he spoke.

“From dark forces he learned his charm,
Sea dragon’s skin wards him from harm,
Steel will not pass his brightest shield,
Loren’s respect he now does wield.
Protected from iron’s sharp kiss,
Tree people’s gift that they now miss,
Thorn to his heel they will avenge,
Strike him down with Loren’s revenge.”


“Cryptic riddles now is it?” Sneered Malthang.
“Talk straight or return my money, I asked for information, not gibberish,” complained Loathren.
“If you have not the wit and intelligence to use what I have given you, then it’s your own blasted fault,” snarled the vauvalka. The warrior stood, a hand dropping to the hilt of his sword, but instead of drawing it he merely turned and strode over to join Malthang by the door, muttering angrily under his breath. Sirulleathe slipped from the shadows into the light of the witchfire and took his place at the table, folding his hands in his lap, he studied the ancient sorcerer for a moment, a slight smile playing across his face as he considered his own question.
“I wish to know where a petty thief named Yokaras can be found,” he said in his soft voice, so quietly as to be barely above a whisper.
“Yokaras, now where have I heard that name before? Ah yes, he fled Vikarh some time ago after he was caught thieving from a noble, managed to give the city guard the slip and ran hell for leather. Last I heard he was hiding in Karond Kar, joined a gang exhorting tolls from travellers in the docks.”
“Thank you.”
Maleth smiled, “Nice to see one of you has manners, now then, about payment, a gold piece if you lose the game as per usual I think.” Sirulleathe inclined his head in assent, steepling his fingers as he watched the sorcerer cast his bones, still wearing his little smile. Maleth’s dice rolled across the table, coming up with a fairly average throw.
“Your turn,” smiled the vauvalka. Sirulleathe collected up a handful of dice, tossing them into the air. A moment after they left his hand, there was a stunning flash of bright red light and a thunderous bang as if someone had discharged a handgun in the room, Maleth was hurled backward from his chair, crashing against the back wall of the room with such force that it shook the items off the shelves above him, which came cascading down, burying the sorcerer in a heap of the objects in his strange collection.
“Looks like I win,” said Sirulleathe, still smiling his little smile. The sorcerer attempted to sit up, shaking himself free of some of the junk he was buried under, his face purple with rage.
“Curse you Malthang, you didn’t tell me he was a bloody Khainite!” bellowed the vauvalka. Sirulleathe stood from the table, the other hunters hissing with laughter. They left the room with the sorcerer still hurling obscenities at their backs.

“That was entertaining,” chuckled Sirulleathe as the group made its way back onto the streets of Vikarh.
“To Ghrond then?” Asked Loathren.
“Would seem to be our best bet.”
“We have company,” noted Malthang, nodding towards a warrior shouldering his way through the crowd towards them, hands dropped to sword handles and the hunters shifted into battle stances, except for Sirulleathe who stood as motionless as always.
“That’s close enough,” growled Loathren as the mysterious warrior stepped within sword distance of Sirulleathe. The warrior held his hands up in a gesture of peace.
“Greetings, my name is T’Keela Darkspine, I am looking for employment.”
“And what makes you think we are looking for an employee?” asked Loathren.
“You have the look of hired swords, usually such groups are not adverse to hiring another blade.”
“We’re bounty hunters, not mercenaries.”
“All the better,” smiled T’Keela, “must be a big hunt if four of you have banded together, a fifth sword can only improve your chances.”
“And reduce our profits.”
“Not much profit in being dead,” noted T’Keela.
“He has a point,” said Sirulleathe. “And we could do with a warrior to replace the one you lost.”
“You mean the one your thugs lost us,” growled Malthang, T’keela’s friendly smile faltered slightly at hearing this, but he swiftly regained his composure. The group conferred wordlessly for a moment, all arriving at the same decision.
“Very well, join us.”
T’Keela sighed in relief, “You have my thanks.”
“Yes well, around us thanks tend to blow up in people’s faces, so I’d be careful what you wish for.” The rest of the group chuckled as they turned towards the gates of Vikarh.
“That only leaves one question then,” stated Lenya, “by which route do we travel to Ghrond?”

Right then, we have a new member of the group (say hello!) to replace Dinil so that now the hunter group comprises four player characters and an NPC. You know that Varranaithe is definitely in Ghrond, being sheltered by a guard captain who finds it difficult to stay in his own trousers. There are three main routes to Ghrond from Vikarh. The quickest and most direct is travelling along the Slaver’s road until it meets the Hateful road which leads to Naggarond, then continuing along the Spear road North to Ghrond. The second and longest route requires you to skirt through the iron mountains, shade territory. You have a better chance of approaching Ghrond undetected this way but you do run the risk of encountering one of the few shade clans that reside there as well as the numerous beasts that haunt those peaks. The third requires you to cross the Gulf of Naggarond, then travel through the shattered forest, which leads to the valley of skulls that lies in between the iron mountains and the spiteful peaks. Which one you choose is up to you. I delayed posting until Wednesday because nobody had posted a question they wanted to ask the informant, so I made up some questions instead, I would like to see the post count increased, currently I am only seeing one or two posts per mod-post, with a new member I would like to see that go back up to four again. Oh, and not to forget, welcome to the group T’Keela! Post Deadline is Monday Night for a Tuesday Morning Mod Post because I’ll be out for most of monday.

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Wed Feb 23, 2011 1:48 pm
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Location: Bris-VEGAS, Australia
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T’Keela allowed himself a momentary smile as the group accepted him into their midst seemingly without care. In truth he cared little for Varrianthe or his future and in all honesty even less for those he travelled with, they were tools and a means to an end and if the former noble found they were no longer of use he would see that they burned for addressing him without the proper respect his station demand.


The presence of the plainly garbed, purple eyed Khainite intrigued the exiled highborn greatly, as did his reason for accompanying the group of bounty hunters, Sirulleathe, what intrigues is your devious little mind set upon? pondered T’keela, absently stroking his pointed chin. Despite the fact that the presence of his current company left a repulsive taste in his mouth, T’keela gazed upon the haughty features and worn equipment of his comrades, contempt growing for the four elves before him only deepening and aside from the strangely hued Khainite, a shade armed with the customary repeater crossbow, short sword and dark cloak of the hill clans, a similarly armed roguish female and a ponytail sporting warrior clutching a shield and sword stood arrayed before him. A raven had been painstakingly tattooed upon the shades face, subtlety blended across his pale features, a pronounced scar being the only other feature of note about the Autarii’s face. The woman was of a slighter build than T’Keela, though her lithe body had been looked after, T’Keela couldn’t deny that she would have made an excellent addition to one of the local flesh houses regardless of her capabilities or perhaps lack thereof, and the thought brought a amused smile to his cruel and arrogant face. The last member of the ratty bunch was without a doubt a fighter, though his actual prowess was decidedly lacking considering the scars that marred his dark elf physique.

T’Keela walked towards the four elves huddled together, his hand resting upon the pommel of the sword that was loosed in it’s sheathe at his waist,
I take it you are all still intent upon Varrianthe’s bounty? mocked T’keela, might I suggest we get underway with all haste? I would hate to arrive upon the North Tower only for him to have skipped town, not to mention all this standing around that you all seem rather fond of becomes rather boring after a time.

Absently inspecting a small piece of dirt underneath one of his nails, T’Keela suggested, “Perhaps we should take the Slaver’s Road? It is both quick and direct, I highly doubt we can brook any further delays.”

T’Keela will suggest that the group goes to Ghrond via the Slaver’s Road, in order to make up lost time. After of course amusing himself by belittling his group members.


Sun Feb 27, 2011 12:31 pm
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Location: Edinburgh, Scotland
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Lenya watched the games of chance being played by her fellow hunters with a smirk. They were all so keen to loose money except, it seemed, Sirulleathe. He was going to have to be watched more closely, considering the display of aggression. As the group left the infuriated magician Lenya took up a position where she could keep an eye on their latest companion. As if reading this thought, an elf emerged from the crowd of the room and enquired as to the possibility of joining them. Lenya instinctively went for her blade, her muscles tight as she prepared to attack at the slightest provocation.

It was obvious the elf was nobleborn, like herself. He carried his sword in a confident manner suggesting ability, but she would wait until she saw him fighting to judge. He definitely spoke like a noble, instantly assuming he was everyone else's better. That wouldn't do in Lenya's book. She brushed a strand of hair from her face and folded her arms before speaking.

"Speed is all well and good, but pointless if we get noticed. We should take the route that avoids contact with others the most, and because of that I suggest we cross the Gulf of Naggarond and head for the Valley of Skulls. And if he does leave before we get there we can easily pick up the trail again." She watched for T'Keela's reaction when she flat out disagreed with him.

OOC: Welcome T'Keela!! Great name by the way :-D

_________________
Lenya Talos

WS: 4
S: 3
T: 2
D: 4
I: 5

Equipment: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak, Small Brass Ring. 5 Gold

Skills: Basic Stealth.


Mon Feb 28, 2011 9:37 pm
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Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
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The air fairly crackled with tension as the two former nobles faced off against each other, T’Keela smirking haughtily despite the burning glare Lenya fixed him with.
“Che coglioni che ha questa,” chuckled T’Keela to himself.
“I earned my jock strap,” retorted Lenya.
“Ah, you speak Estalian. Does it ever give you that empty feeling?”
“What?”
“You’re jockstrap.”
“No. Like some species of frogs, I grow what I need.”
This only made T’Keela smirk even more.
Sirulleathe sidled up to the newest member of the team, “Excuse me, but your ego is showing,” Sirulleathe whispered quietly.
“Well thanks for the news flash mister nonchalantly charismatic indifference.” T’Keela sneered sarcastically.
“Anytime,” replied the Khainite with a disturbingly genuine-looking smile.
“Well, we need to make a decision soon,” said Lenya. She turned to Malthang and Loathren, “You two have been strangely quiet, what say you of our path?”
“I’d say it’s going to be pretty long and steep if these two are going to keep at it like this all the way,” Sirulleathe said under his breath, but as usual, nobody seemed to hear.

Well then, you lot need to come to a decision this week as to which path to take, I’m going to go shake some trees and see if NH or Varraken drop out of them and wake up. If a consensus is not reached by the next mod post then Sirulleathe will make a tie-breaker vote (decided randomly as I have no preference) and we’ll go that-a-way! Deadline is Monday Night for Tuesday Morning Mod Post again.

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Tue Mar 01, 2011 10:42 am
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Joined: Wed Dec 23, 2009 10:48 pm
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OOC - Sorry for the delay in posting, have had a busy couple of weeks. Welcome to T'Keela, hope you enjoy posting here :) and buoyancy, bad luck on the rugger so far, hopefully you guys will be able to pull some positives out of this in time for the World Cup!

IC - Malthang had taken a reasonably reserved role in the most recent of the discussions to plague the group. Meeting with the old elf never failed to leave an unpleasant taste in his mouth despite his usefulness and he had to admit
to feeling great satisfaction at seeing the Khainite's response to him. Still, they knew the location of the mark meaning that this contract just got a lot more dangerous. Still, it was a long way the Ghrond and the way would be dangerous, despite their avarice it would be incredibly difficult to make it there alive and have the strength to take on the mark.

Malthang considered the two new additions. While hate is a way of life for the Druchii something about the newest member, a highborn by his voice despite his roughshod appearance, irked Malthang more than most. Perhaps it was just his natural distaste for the city-dwellers. Lenya had proved herself for now and so he harboured slightly less contempt for her, as had the warriors to an extent. This T'Keela is used to giving orders. And having them obeyed. This could get interesting The shade mused.

Either way he is a fool to think the Slaver's Road would be the path to travel. They would be spotted a hundred leagues from anywhere useful, open, exposed, dead men walking. Malthang weighed up Lenya's suggestion. It was certainly more promising. Though Malthang had not hunted that way in several seasons and would not be so sure of what now dwells in the depths of the Shattered Forest. The Iron Mountains then, but they too hold their own dangers. I do have unfinished business in those peaks though. And perhaps now would be a....prudent time to deal with them.

The Slaver's Road is a fool's path, speed cannot help us if the target is gone on the wind before we get half way there. This twisted bastard is a coward, he thinks himself safe and hidden in Ghrond, unfound and untouchable. We have his location, why waste this opportunity for surprise by rushing in blindly. The Gulf of Naggarond has promise, once we reach the forest we will be hidden but I have not hunted that far out in sometime and cannot be sure what we may find there. The Iron Mountains would be the path I would choose. I have travelled there for many years and know its paths well, that alone will increase the speed in travelling that way despite its length. As long as you can keep up of course. Malthang directed this last at T'Keela with a wry grin. My kin in the hills will offer no issue as long as the correct... niceties are observed.

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Wed Mar 02, 2011 1:57 pm
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Location: Edinburgh, Scotland
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Lenya eyed Malthang suspiciously, loathe to trust his disire to keep all of them safe. She kept her arms folded as he spoke to him. "Do you really think you could keep all of us safe, or just yourself? I have no desire to be used as some sort of offering to let you pass through the mountains safely." She turned her frosty stare on T'Keela, a small smile on her lips. "Though maybe it would give our new companion a chance to prove himself..?"

OOC: Sorry for the short post, not much to say really...

_________________
Lenya Talos

WS: 4
S: 3
T: 2
D: 4
I: 5

Equipment: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak, Small Brass Ring. 5 Gold

Skills: Basic Stealth.


Sat Mar 05, 2011 3:26 pm
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T'Keela noted the suspicion with which Lenya gazed at Malthang. He smiled at the obviously distinct lack of trust between the group and found himself amused when Lenya considered the Iron Mountain's an opportunity for T'Keela's mettle to be tested. Oh by all means dear friends let us travel the shadow paths of the mountains.

T'Keela will agree with Malthang to get this show on the road.

OOC: Sorry for short post. Let's get this show on the road.

_________________
T'Keela Darkspine
Group 30
Stats: WS4 S3 T4 D4 I4
Equip: Sword, Light Armour, blackpowder pistol, 4 bullets, 2GP.
Skills:


Sun Mar 06, 2011 1:08 am
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Malthang smiled coldly at Lenya's idea of being made an offering. In the end all city scum reverted to thinking the Autarii were savages, regardless of how many times they may prove otherwise. He was surprised by T'Keela's response to take the mountain path, the desire for opportunity waged war with his suspicions but for now there is nothing to be done about it.

Relax Lenya, we shades are not entirely the heathens you think us to be. And I can vouch for your safe passage as long as you are able to follow instruction. You may fight as a shade but you have not the skills of the wild to call yourself one just yet. Think of it as...training. Malthang's smile seemed almost genuine at this last, or at least as genuine as a Druchii's smile ever got. Shall we? It makes no sense to tarry here longer and the road is long.

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Mon Mar 07, 2011 9:01 am
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“To the mountains then,” agreed Sirulleathe in his soft voice, “the road will be long and steep after all.” The party set off once again into the streets of Vikarh, though this time they were heading towards the outside world, rather than further into the shadows of the mercenary city. The band travelled West, on the second day they passed within sight of the ominous spires of Hag Graef, having circled around the city to avoid unwanted attention. Sirulleathe, Malthang and Lenya would set off each night to hunt the wild beasts and gather the edible plants to be found in these parts. The shades tended to stick together, Lenya learning the ways of the wild from her companion, who had been raised to be one with the lands he treads, she proved to be a competent student, adding knowledge of wilderness survival to her considerable martial prowess. The Khainite proved himself to be an able cook, taking the catches the shades made and adding to them an array of herbs and spices he had collected, some of which not even Malthang could identify, to produce meals fit for nobility. The warriors were secretly glad of their choice of company, this was certainly better than subsisting on marching rations. By the fourth day the group had reached the base of the iron mountains. Here the going was much more difficult, the mountains rose in a series of steep slopes, the lower ones covered in desolated forests interwoven with impenetrable thickets of brambles.
“Curse these blasted thorns, is there no end to them?” Swore Loathren as he was slashed across the face for what felt like the thousandth time.
“Of course there is an end to them, but this is the easy part,” chuckled Malthang from the branch of a thunderstruck tree above the warrior, the shades had been happily travelling through the trees whilst the warriors down below, prevented from doing the same by their heavy armour, struggled through the briar patches.
“This is the easy part?” demanded Loathren.
Of course, we’ve been travelling along the range rather than into it, so we haven‘t actually gone that far up, but ahead the mountains rise considerably, there won’t be any trees or brambles, in fact there won’t be anything but snow for about two days of travel before we go back down into the desolated forests again.”
“Sounds wonderful, what’s the catch? Dangerous beasts, angry shades, monsters of the mountains?”
“Wind.”
“Wind? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Curse this bloody wind! Take me back to the dead trees and the brambles,” yelled Loathren, his voice barely audible above the shrieking of the elements.
“I thought you didn’t like the brambles,” mocked Malthang.
“That’s because I didn’t know what the blasted wind was like up here, you shades are mad!”
“I tried to warn you, besides, no shades live in this part of the mountains, no creatures are stupid enough to live up here so there is nothing to hunt, we’ll get into shade territory when we make it over the next rise, there the mountain starts to descend again, and it’s back to the forests.”
“Lovely,” Loathren groaned.
“But without the brambles this time.”
“Great, so what horrible things will get in our way there?”
“The angry shades and dangerous beasts you mentioned earlier.”
“I thought as much.”

“Ah, this isn’t so bad,” sighed Loathren as the trees closed around them once again, he was shivering with cold after the freezing temperatures, even by Naggarothian standards, on top of the mountain. Lenya and T’Keela were shivering also, their faces whiter than the snow they had recently been wading through, though Malthang and Sirulleathe seemed unaffected.
“I actually kind of like it here,” smiled the warrior.
A deafening crack reverberated off the side of the mountain, an animalistic scream of pain rent the air as Loathren was smashed from his feet, blood sprayed everywhere, covering the hunters in gore. For a split second the world stopped as all eyes turned to the fallen warrior, then everything snapped back into focus as Sirulleathe yelled “Move!” at the top of his lungs, somewhere up ahead the faint twang of a repeater crossbow firing reached the sensitive elven ears of the hunter party, and the hunters exploded into action.

Right then, you are in a forest just off the side of a mountain, there is some snow on the ground and the slope is reasonably level here the trees are mostly dead and hold little foliage, they will provide good cover but not good hiding spots. Loathren is down, there are at least two Druchii around, one with some sort of black powder weapon and one with repeater crossbow, it doesn’t appear that the crossbow wielding Druchii was aiming at you when s/he fired, does that mean they too are after the gunman? Do you think they will be friend or foe? Somewhere up ahead are the two Druchii with the weapons you have heard, what will you do? Sirulleathe has sprinted off ahead, dashing from tree to tree for cover and circling around to the right. Deadline is Sunday night for Monday Morning Mod Post.

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Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Tue Mar 08, 2011 12:33 pm
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On the dawn of the fourth day the mismatched group of adventurers had finally reached the seemingly uninhabited base of the Iron Mountain's after much grumbling on both T'Keela and Loathern's part. Their armour having made a mockery of their ability to travel comfortably through the overbearing confines of the forest.

T'Keela gave a relieved sigh upon breaking through the thick brambles and branches of the forest, which was quickly consumed by his chattered teeth as the frigid wind cut through his snow soaked clothes. These damnable shades know something they're not willing to tell us, though the former noble wearily, as he distantly listened to the back and forth between Loathern and Malthang arguing.

T'Keela had been walking a small distant away from Loathern, though obviously not far enough when the spray of blood, gore and shattered bone settled over his previously pristine armour, Pristine before this fool of a hike at least, muttered T'Keela as he drew his sword and scrambled for the nearest of trees in search of cover. Even as the "Khainite" called for the company to take cover, T'Keela's keen ears heard the taught "twang" of a crossbow being discharged. [/i]At least Malthang and Lenya are quick on the trigger,[/i] commented T'Keela to no one in particular. Though when he became aware that the crossbow had not been fired by any of his compatriots he felt a gnawing suspiscion in his gut over whom or what may have actually fired the shot.

T'keela's biggest concern was that fickle blackpowder weapon, that had been devised via human ingenuity, the kind that maimed or killed its wielder as often as it tore a ragged, gaping hole in its victim. The noble loosed the sword at his waist and began to creep as silently as possible while wearing his light armour of chain and thin steel breastplate towards the place the devastating firearm had launched.

T'keela will attempt to make a beeline for the nearest set of trees and hope for as much cover as possible, loosing his sword as he does so. If he can make it to the tree's he will wait until thier assailant is attacked en masse by his companions and the mysterious crossbow wielding stranger and use them as a distraction to try and creep towards his target despite his decided lack of sneaking experience.

_________________
T'Keela Darkspine
Group 30
Stats: WS4 S3 T4 D4 I4
Equip: Sword, Light Armour, blackpowder pistol, 4 bullets, 2GP.
Skills:


Wed Mar 09, 2011 2:59 am
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Malthang leapt quickly into cover behind one of the dead, bleached tree trunks. How their attackers had got the drop on them he did not know but he quietly cursed himself for his carelessness. He could smell the acrid smoke of a blackpowder weapon, one of the damnable dwarf inventions that had so often proved effective on the battlefield. His ears pricked at the subtler sound of a crossbow string releasing it's deadly cargo though with the way the trees distorted the sound it was nigh impossible to pin down a location, even with his heightened senses.

Making his decision quickly Malthang whirled around the tree he was taking cover behind and crouched down scuttled around to take up a firing position towards the right flank of the group with Sirulleathe, hoping to have someone to watch his back as well as a second pair of eyes. He moved silently as he had been taught while on countless hunts of both beast and elf, crossbow ready in hand, the string taught.

He had some suspicions about who their attackers could be but he would have to wait to find out if they were grounded or not. After all, he was unsure whether or not the gunner and the crossbowman were working together or not.

Finding some shrubbery with reasonable lines of sight Malthang knelt, drew his cloak around him and took aim, sweeping his crossbow back and forth in a slow regular motion across the ground in front of him, ears pricked for the slightest movement.

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Tue Mar 15, 2011 11:08 am
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Sirulleathe dashed ahead of his companions, feeling the blood frenzy slowly creeping its way through his body like a dark tide, a rising wave of energy welling from the depths of his soul, flooding his limbs with unnatural strength and power. As the red mist engulfed him, Sirulleathe felt his reason slowly slipping away, as if his mind was being devoured by the descending cloud of rage, sucked into a black abyss from which there was no escape, not until the storm lifted. His breath quickened and his heart beat double time as his feet pounded the earth, his pace moving from a conservative run into an all out sprint, his weapons appearing in his hands as he bore down on his prey.

Malthang watched as the Khainite accelerated away at an unbelievable pace, now I know why he has such good knowledge of herblore the shade thought ruefully to himself. The crack of a pistol discharging snapped the shade’s attention back to the moment. Crouched behind the shrubbery, he had a good view of the entire battlefield, and though it was difficult to pinpoint the exact location of their gun wielding adversary, with each shot he made, the shade narrowed down the possibilities. He could see Lenya pressed against the back of a tree a dozen or so yards to his left, and T’keela making a dash for a stand of trees just the other side of her, the pistol shot didn’t look to have been aimed at them, nor Sirulleathe and Malthang on the right flank, so it must have been at the crossbow-wielding Druchii they had heard, which meant the gun wielder considered that person to be the immediate threat. His mistake.

T’Keela shuddered to a stop at another copse (corpse?) of dead trees, getting ready to make a break for the next patch of cover. He had been slowly advancing on the area the shots had been coming from, hoping the charge of the maddened Khainite would draw the fire away from him, allowing him to advance without worrying about getting his head blown off. Part of his plan seemed to have worked, bullets weren’t whizzing past his face every time he stuck his head around a corner, but Sirulleathe did not seem to be under fire either, the mysterious marksman had gone quiet. T’Keela wasn’t quite sure what to make of this, it was possible the marksman had been hit by the crossbow-wielding Druchii, or even by one of his own companions without him noticing, but if that was the case then the marksman had been shot without him making the slightest sound about it, no screams or yells, not even a muffled curse. Far more troubling was the notion of the marksmen lying in wait, watching for a target to expose themselves. Silence had descended on the dead forest, all the shooters had apparently settled in, waiting for an opportunity to fire. Occasionally the warrior caught a flash of pure darkness winding through the trees off to his right, Sirulleathe was flitting from cover to cover and never giving anyone more than a fleeting glimpse of his position. Even running at full tilt the Khainite did not make the slightest sound in his passing and his movements were so swift that none of the enemy shooters were able to settle their sights on him, he remained an elusive shadow, dancing through the darkness like mist on the winds, the moment the warrior caught sight of him the Khainite seemed to just melt away. The silence was oppressive, laden with tension that could crack at any moment. Where was the other shooter? If they were to his left then that would put him in an awkward crossfire, and he would have to turn his back to them to move in on the gun-wielding Druchii. The warrior knew he had a decision to make, the Khainite was quickly pulling far ahead of him, he could either sit tight and let Sirulleathe go in alone, or make a break for it and hope nobody was looking his way when he did, and if they were, well, that wasn’t something he really wanted to contemplate.
“Ouch time,” he muttered to himself.

Malthang flexed his fingers around the trigger of his crossbow and watched the battlefield intently. Occasionally he caught sight of Sirulleathe through the trees, still ploughing ahead with a reckless abandon Ravensbane wasn’t sure whether to classify as foolishly brave or unusually stupid. Usually marching straight into what could become one big bullet-storm at any moment would be suicide, but the Khainite was so elusive that even the sharp-eyed shade was having trouble keeping track of him. Apparently so were the enemy, judging by the fact that Sirulleathe’s head hadn’t turned into a massive fountain of crimson gore. Not yet anyway. As he tried to zone in on his fellow hunter’s position again Malthang noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to follow it, the shade spotted a stealthy figure dashing out from behind a stand of particularly gnarled and wasted looking trees and reach the foot of another, much taller tree, which the figure then proceeded to swiftly ascend. Malthang smiled to himself, he had found the other shooter, off to the right and some way ahead of Sirulleathe’s position. And judging by the way the figure moved and climbed, it was a shade, perhaps not a native of these particular mountains, but definitely a shade. That left a number of possibilities, there was no guarantee either way that the shade Malthang had spotted was friend or foe, just because they were after the handgunner didn’t mean they would not turn on the band of bounty hunters next, could he take the risk that the shade would not immediately turn on them the moment the handgunner was dead? Or before? After all, he would be outnumbered three to one if he took on the hunters alone after the gunner was disposed of. The position of the shade meant that, if Malthang’s estimates of the first shooter’s position were correct, Sirulleathe was heading directly for the gun-wielding Druchii, if the shade was on the gun-wielder’s side, or at least would like to take out Sirulleathe before he killed the handgunner, he would be in a perfect position to do so and the Khainite would be dead meat if Malthang didn’t hit the shade first. Alternatively, if Malthang could hit the first shooter, then Sirulleathe could move onto the shade. But there was a problem, Malthang couldn’t see either the first shooter or the shade from where he was, for him to get a sight on the former Sirulleathe would have to draw him out, and for the latter he would have to move to a new position. If he were the Khainite, he would sprint to the tree the shade was in, moving straight past the gunman and let him take a shot. Based on how quickly the Khainite could move and the angle he would be at by changing direction the chances of him getting hit were minimal, this would expose the gunman for Malthang to take an easy shot and Sirulleathe could make straight for the shade, who wasn’t in position to fire and would also have difficulty hitting the lightning-fast Khainite at such short range and having to shoot through the trees. Malthang didn’t fancy the shade’s chances against Sirulleathe up close, even if he did have the high ground. Malthang knew the Khainite would draw the same conclusions, his senses were sharp enough to have detected the shade just as Malthang had done, and the Khainite was much closer, making it all the easier. Ravensbane also knew Sirulleathe was enough of a tactician to choose the right path under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances; Sirulleathe had surrendered himself to the blood frenzy, where reason was blotted out by a single-minded thirst for death and destruction, transforming the Druchii into a killing machine, but at the cost of rational thought. Malthang knew some acolytes could control the frenzy to a certain extent; the temple trained their apprentices to keep their heads even when the red mist was upon them, but did Sirulleathe have that level of control? How much of the Khainite’s mind was still with him? How much faith was Malthang ready to put in Sirulleathe’s ability to think clearly even when his whole body cried out for the kill as quickly, simply and brutally as possible? Malthang knew he had to think, and act. And he knew the Khainite’s life would be the price should he be wrong.

Right then, first off, sorry I’m late posting but I thought I’d wait a few days to see if Varaken or TBoW posted up since I sort of needed more than just T’Keela’s actions to go on so I waited for a few days. So, we are still in the forest, Loathren is down, there is a shade and a handgunner, the latter definitely hostile and the former possibly.
Varaken: you need to decide whether you think the shade will attack you and the group or not and whether s/he might do so before or after the gunner is killed. You also need to decide what you think Sirullleathe will do, will he draw out the handgunner for you and then move on to the shade? Or is he too lost in his frenzy to have even noticed the shade and will instead simply go for the nearest and most easily accessible target in the most direct fashion possible? If you wish to shoot the shade then you will need to change positions to where you can see him, and similarly if you wish to shoot the gunman and don’t think Sirulleathe can/will draw him out of his spot then you will also need to move to shoot him, what will you do?
T’Keela: the big question is whether the gunman is staring down his sight at your tree or not, do you risk making a move and getting blown to smithereens or will you stay put? It is possible the gunner is too busy worrying about the Khainite bearing down on him like a bull on the charge, troublingly a bull which appears to be able to completely discorporate every time he tries to get his sights on it which has to be worrying the gunman, on the other hand, he may be calmly staring down the sights of his rifle at your cover spot with a pistol in his other hand to blast Sirulleathe when he gets too close. What’s your plan?
Lenya: Currently you are just standing behind cover and twiddling your thumbs so to speak, you haven’t got a sight on anyone but know roughly where your teammates and the gunman are, to get a shot at anyone you will have to take up a new position, you could move to support T’Keela on the left flank, or move to the right towards Malthang, though you may get in the way of his shot if you move across his sights.
Deadline is Monday night for Tuesday Morning Mod Post.


Keep an eye on the Gungan!

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Wed Mar 16, 2011 1:59 pm
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Malthang cursed inwardly at the situation, the Khainite's blood lust could well undo them all or it could be their salvation and the difference rested upon a knife edge. He couldn't see either of the targets from where he was and was not sure he wanted to risk the wrath of the gunner if he moved, being unsure as to where he is to begin with. The trees warped the sounds of the elves movement as well as creaking, groaning and cracking at inopportune moments making the shade edgy.

He ran a quick, cursory look over his crossbow despite knowing that everything would be in order, Malthang was almost religious in his care and attention of the weapon. Thoughts and choices tumbled through his head, run, stay, creep, climb, jump. He had to decide and quickly. He had a rough idea of where the gunman was and he seemed to be the primary threat. If Ravensbane could circle round a bit more to the right he might be able to spot the gunner or at least a muzzle flash, hopefully not the moment before a piece of hot lead impacts with my flesh the shade thought with a hint of dark humour.

Action decided the shade crept low and silently to the right, placing his feet carefully and making sure to move with all the care he would on a hunt so as not to scare off his prey. As he cycled round he kept his eyes and ears open to all directions. He knew well which shade clans lived near this area and would not like to be on the receiving end of a volley of bolts from above or behind.

The way the shade saw it the Khainite was going to do his own thing either way, the red mist had descended and there was little Malthang would be able to do to discourage him from a course of action, he may as well use the distraction to try and get a bead on the black powder weapon.

Malthang will continue around to the right, looking to flank the handgunner without drawing his attention while maintaining a vigil for any shades who may be lurking in the area.

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Mon Mar 21, 2011 2:51 pm
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OOC: Sorry for another delay, went straight into meetings after my lecture.

IC: Slobbering filth, muttered T'Keela contemptuously at the charging form of the Khainite, effective terror tactics but really, so uncivilised. T'Keela gazed admiringly at the smoking hole that had been blown into Loathern, I will most definately impressed if the fool manages to get back up his feet after that. His attentions shifted to the blade still sheathed at the wounded Druchii's hip and a murderous grin split his face. But first to deal with these foes before us.

Scanning the wooded copse of trees he tried to locate his fellow comrades, aside from the painfully obvious Sirulleathe. Malthang had disappeared behind a tree on the otherside of the treeline and of Lenya, proving to T'Keela that perhaps she was better suited to the silk sheets of a flesh house, was off twiddiling her thumbs. On second thoughts "dead fish". chuckled T'Keela cruelly.

Despite the obvious location of the "gunslinger" there was the additional problem of a crossbowmen skulking in the trees somewhere. It had however come to his attention that the crossbow had not been totally aimed at his own ragtag group of misadventurers. T'Keela considered the possibility of another ally against those who had so sourly turned his fortunes and as an additional defense against those he definately did not trust. Shrugging his shoulders he focussed his attentions back on the mysterious gunner.

Between the onrushing Khainite, Malthang and The Mysterious Stranger's covering fire, T'Keela considered himself well and truly out of harms way, as long as there wasn't another Dawii armed fool hiding amongst the trees. Though the thought of getting my hands on that pistol is definately an interesting and propsective thought..

Keeping low and with his sword out before him T'keela moved as quickly as his armour and crouched position allowed him, trying to move ever closer to his opponent without alerting the concealed figure to his presence...

T'Keela will try and keep low to the ground, moving quietly and quickly as possible towards the gunner. IF he manages to find himself in range of sword thrust he will without a doubt take the opportunity.
HOWEVER
If T'Keela can't get close enough for a strike he will simply continue to move as cautiously towards his target as possible.

_________________
T'Keela Darkspine
Group 30
Stats: WS4 S3 T4 D4 I4
Equip: Sword, Light Armour, blackpowder pistol, 4 bullets, 2GP.
Skills:


Wed Mar 23, 2011 11:02 pm
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The fog was gathering, descending, blotting out his consciousness. He fought, his mind raged at the swirling clouds, trying to retain a semblance of control, trying to let some fragment of rational thought pierce the curtains of black rage that had been drawn like a shroud across his senses. Then a startling moment of clarity carved through the darkness, like the first rays of sunshine at the break of day, banishing the shadows that enveloped his mind. Accompanying the light was a sound, the harsh crack of a handgun being fired. Then the light was swallowed by a surging wave of adrenaline laced with an undercurrent of raw fear. Sirulleathe hurled himself to the side, an impact on the left of his chest added momentum to the spin and knocked the Khainite off balance. Slamming into a tree, Sirulleathe bounced back towards the ground, gracefully shoulder rolling to his feet again Sirulleathe continued with his sprint like nothing had happened. He felt his head slowly clearing, but strangely, he felt no pain, he knew he had just been shot, and yet the agony that should have been swallowing him was being eclipsed by a rising tide of energy, swelling within his breast in the same way that it did when he fully gave himself to the blood frenzy, but his mind was clear, free of the maddening haze that blotted out all thought in favour of pure, mindless rage. Putting aside his confusion, Sirulleathe concentrated on his target, the tree was up ahead.

Malthang tensed as he heard the gunshot, half-expecting to feel a bullet tearing into him, but the pain did not come. He saw Sirulleathe crash into a tree and fall, but the Khainite was up on his feet again in seconds, and didn’t appear to be much the worse for wear. Even better, Malthang had seen a tell-tale muzzle flash from a discharging blackpowder weapon. Yes, this angle will work well for me smiled the shade as he sighted along his crossbow.

Dach’val stared in disbelief as he saw the Khainite dance to the side of his shot, how could someone move so fast? Dully his senses registered something else, a faint twang, like a crossbow string snapping taut. Then he was falling. The mercenary hit the ground without even feeling it, his vision narrowed, and all he could see was blood, blood and a black feather protruding obscenely from his chest.
Why have I got a father in my chest? He wondered idly to himself as the world spun in and out of focus. A voice somewhere in the depths of his subconscious answered back:
Because mister ostrich put it there to keep in the little pixies.
And then his world faded to black.

Excellent! Thought T’Keela as he saw the handgunner crash to the ground no more than 10 yards in front of him. Time for some looting.

Sirulleathe scrambled up the tree, eyes fixed upon his prey in the branches above. The shade cursed as he struggled to reload his crossbow faster, his first shot having been hastily discharged at the Khainite just before the elf had reached the foot of the tree, too hastily as it turned out, the bolt having sailed to the left of the zig-zag path the hunter had been weaving in a –successful- effort not to get shot by the shade as well, being shot once in a day was quite enough as far as Sirulleathe was concerned. The shade gave a triumphant cry as the string ratcheted into firing position. Looking up for his target, he came face to face with the demonic visage of the angry Khainite. Yelping in surprise, the shade attempted to raise his crossbow, but Sirulleathe was too fast for him, smashing the weapon aside with one hand whilst the other brought his dagger slashing towards the shade’s neck.

“Stop!” yelled a husky voice from the other side of the clearing. The dagger paused in its deadly path, half an inch from its target’s throat, slowly the Khainite turned to look over his shoulder, he saw another shade, arm around T’keela’s neck in a chokehold and a crossbow pressing into the warrior’s temple.

“Dross!” Cried Malthang and Lenya simultaneously.

T’Keela gasped as the shade tightened his hold.
“Oh bugger.”

Right then, sorry for the delay but I was rather hoping Lenya would turn up as this event pertains to her story, ah well. Sirulleathe is poised to kill the first shade -whose name is Cesq- Malthang and Lenya both know these shades (IIRC, I think I put this connection in both your information packs, I can’t actually remember and my sent-box deleted the mails so if not then just treat these two as ordinary shades who you somehow happen to know, improvise ;) ) and Dross has a crossbow to T’Keela’s head. T’Keela I was just going to make you a hostage and your fate largely decided by your comrades decisions in this particular bit, but since you said you would be moving forward very cautiously and you mentioned your character thought there might be another enemy in the trees (which was correct) I will give you (more of) a chance to get out of this predicament by yourself, you can attempt to escape from the shade’s hold (and attempt to kill him in turn if you wish) and if you do so then I will make a dice roll of which the chances of success are based on your intelligence and dexterity compared to the shade’s and how you will try to escape and what you will attempt to do. Attempting to escape may get you killed, or not, and might make the situation worse, or better, depending on the dice roll and what everyone else does, :p . You all need to make your decisions in how you will react in response to the shade taking T’keela hostage, what do you think these two shades want? If TBoW doesn’t post for Lenya then I will decide her actions, not entirely sure what those may be yet though, just to make you all even more confused and uncertain :D . Deadline is Monday after next (4th April)

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All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Sun Mar 27, 2011 8:01 pm
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OOC: So glad I have spider sense.

Oh bugger! gasped T'Keela.

Mother of Night, cursed T'Keela inwardly, as he felt his neck compress under a firm chokehold and his mouth ran dry as he heard the click of a crossbow against his temple. Oh bother, thought the Druchii, this whole adventuring business is turning out to be a little more of a pain in the posterior. The whole situation was quite comical the more T'Keela thought about it and in all honesty it was his comrades fault for not covering him that he was in this situation. Across from him Sirulleathe was poised to slash the throat of the cowering shade, though the warning tone of the mysterious shade who had his arm around T'Keela's own throat seemed to have snapped Sirulleathe out of the rage that clouded the warrior's judgement. Sirulleathe may be a bit more of a pain to deal with than I thought. His eyes darted quickly between his "comrades" in panic, more so surprised than anything at the recognition between his allies, Lenya and Malthang, and the one who had captured him, Dross. What an interesting series of events...

It seemed that they all had their pasts and that T'Keela was destined to become as entangled in their histories as he planned for them to be in his or at least as long as to keep them entangled was prudent to his success and survival. The shade who held him by the throat was roughly the same size and build as the noble, thought he was in a slightly better position with an arm around his throat and crossbow pointed at his temple. He knew he could potentially die here and the thought of that set his blood aflame, he had yet to drink the blood of Darkspine as it pumped out of his still beating heart. No he would not let the shade, the Autarii claim his skull this day, or at least he hoped.

Lenya and Malthang would undoubtedly be useless, as far as shooting Dross, if that even is his real name, as he was without a doubt some inbred lover or cousin. His eyes wandered over the wooden stock of the handgun and next to it a matching pistol. His eyes stopped roving at he sight of the pistol, its larger "cousin" looked too bulky and cumbersome, but that little pistol was nice and sneaky. Except for the loud bang it made.

Suddenly everything snapped back into perspective and admist the battle he had managed to hold on his short sword. T'Keela wiggled his fingers in anticipation...

T'Keela will make an attempt to try and grab the crossbow pointed at his temple with his left hand and try to pull his opponent over his shoulder and throw him to the ground, thus hopefully reversing the situation. Or theoretically that is how it should go down.

_________________
T'Keela Darkspine
Group 30
Stats: WS4 S3 T4 D4 I4
Equip: Sword, Light Armour, blackpowder pistol, 4 bullets, 2GP.
Skills:


Wed Mar 30, 2011 11:29 pm
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Dross! Malthang exclaimed, his anger swiftly rising before being curtailed slightly at the revelation that Lenya had also reacted. Interesting, perhaps I shall have to inquire about this later he thought quickly before his focus snapped back into the present, his crossbow automatically rising to an aimed position that would see a black bolt flying between the shades eyes.

I had hoped I'd into you and Cesq out here, I still haven't repaid you fully for the last time we met! You have seen the abilities of the Khainite thus far, you know full well how quickly Cesq would die if you make a wrong move and as far as I can see your odds aren't looking too great either. You are a traitor and a coward, we both know how this is going to end. Release him and step forward and we may let you both live.

Malthang cared little for the life of the pompous noble being held by the traitorous Autarii but he would rather not have to use more shots than needed and the highborn may yet have his uses. Cesq was being covered, he trusted the Khainite enough to be sure with his strike if the time came for action.

Anytime soon please Dross, we really are rather busy people.

Malthang is covering Dross with his crossbow, ready to fire at a moments notice. While he would rather T'Keela survived if it comes down to it he will try and kill Dross and deal with the consequences later.

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Mon Apr 04, 2011 1:05 am
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“Well, what a nice little reunion this is,” sneered Dross as he tightened his grip upon T’Keela’s throat.
“Always a pleasure Lenya.” He smiled at the female shade, then his look darkened as he glanced towards Malthang.
“Although I can’t say the same for your friends, I must say I am disappointed with the company you choose to keep these days.”
“Business is business,” replied Lenya, a mix of emotions crossing her face.
“That it is. Well then, shall we try to work this out in a civilised fashion or are things going to get violent?”
T’keela burst into action as the last syllable left the shade’s mouth, his left snapped up to snatch the crossbow from the shade’s hands as he simultaneously dropped to one knee and reached behind his head to grasp the shade’s head with his right hand. Dross’ finger tightened on the trigger and the string snapped taught, but there was no explosion of blood and viscera, the bolt passed harmlessly (well, maybe a few hairs got the chop but in the grand scheme of things a few hairs won’t really be missed) through the space an inch above the warrior’s head. The shade was thrown roughly over the warrior’s shoulder, his arm being wrenched from its socket as he tried -unsuccessfully- to hold onto his weapon whilst being pulled in the opposite direction from it. The shade landed in a seated position in front of the warrior, a scream of pain dying on his lips as he felt the muzzle of his own crossbow being pressed against his temple.
“Too slow,” snarled T’Keela in the shade’s ear.
Malthang chuckled, “That was a close shave,”
“An arrow escape,” agreed Lenya.
:roll:
“May I have the pleasure?” Asked Malthang, gesturing at Dross.
“Be my guest,” replied T’Keela, “Just don’t shoot me.”
“Wait!” Cried Dross pleadingly. “I can help you!”

Congrats T’Keela, you gambled and won, Dross is now at your mercy. Do you wait and hear the shade out or just shoot him and be done with it?
Deadline is Sunday night for Monday Morning Mod post.

P.S. Sorry for the bad puns, I just couldn’t resist :lol:

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Tue Apr 05, 2011 9:52 am
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Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 4:37 am
Posts: 400
Location: Bris-VEGAS, Australia
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T'Keela threw the shade over his shoulder and grabbed the crossbow from the ground quicker than the shade could react. In total honesty he was as surprised by his success as his comrades seemed to be. Pushing down on the prone elf's chest with one foot, T'Keela took the opportunity to mock the autarii with his own crossbow pointed at his head. "Not as smug now are we? grinned T'Keela maliciously, "oh and yes I think Malthang will have the pleasure. Unless of course you say something that would be actually useful."

"Sirulleathe! I believe your kind have been known ot extract information with a certain level of precision, interested?" nodded the noble in the Khainite's direction.

Looking back at Dross, "Ah yes where were we? Oh you were telling us what you knew."

[u]T'Keela will hear out what Dross has to say, if he feels that Dross isn't totally forthcoming that Malthang and Sirulleathe can have some fun with him.[u]

_________________
T'Keela Darkspine
Group 30
Stats: WS4 S3 T4 D4 I4
Equip: Sword, Light Armour, blackpowder pistol, 4 bullets, 2GP.
Skills:


Thu Apr 07, 2011 4:11 am
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Scourge
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Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:05 am
Posts: 656
Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
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“Go on then, let’s hear what you have to say,” prompted T’keela. The shade momentarily glanced at the crossbow in T’keela’s hand, as if weighing up his chances of grabbing it before being shot, and must have come to the conclusion that such chances were near to zero, so he began to speak:
“Me and my brother would be a valuable asset to your team, we know the wilderness well and have no small experience with the northern cities either…”
“What do you know of Varranaithe?” interrupted Malthang impatiently.
“If I tell you then you will just kill me now and be done with it,” hissed the shade.
“True,” said T’Keela, “but it will be a quick and painless death, where as if we have to force it out of you our methods will be far less comfortable. Just make it easier on yourself, tell us.”
“You’ll have to release us before I tell you anything,” snarled the shade, gasping in pain as T’keela leant forward, grinding the heel of his boot into the shade’s sternum with all of his weight.
“Tell us!” Roared T’keela. The shade only uttered a muted growl of pain in response, but his eyes shone defiantly. T’Keela snorted with contempt. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” The warrior turned and gestured towards the Khainite nestled in the tree with his knife still at the throat of the other shade.
“Sirulleathe, bring our other friend to the party if you would be so kind.” Sirulleathe nodded in acknowledgement, then grabbed a fistful of Cesq’s robes and unceremoniously hurled the shade out of the tree. Cesq hit the ground hard but swiftly rolled to his feet, for a moment he glanced around the forest, looking for the best escape route, but he froze in place when he heard Malthang’s mocking laughter from the other side of the small clearing.
“If you really want to chance it, I would love a game of hide and seek Cesq, if you think you can outrun our Khainite friend and evade my aim at the same time then by all means. I would like to see you try.” The shade slowly turned to face his tormentor, a look of deepest loathing and fury plastered across his face. Sirulleathe moved up silently behind Cesq, pressing his knife into his back. Slowly, hesitantly, the shade began to stumble forwards towards the rest of the bounty hunters, and his brother.
“Well then, this is your last chance, give us the information we want, or your brother pays the price.” Dross looked up at his brother, his face a mask of indecision and confusion. T’keela shrugged, “Very well then.” The warrior turned and nodded at Sirulleathe, who brandished his ornate knife, spinning to Cesq’s left side, he brought his heel round in a crushing kick to the shade’s stomach, Cesq bent double, gasping for air, and the Khainite brought his knife down in a flashing arc towards the shade’s neck.
“Ghrond!” Screamed Dross. The knife paused in its murderous path, stopping to rest lightly on the back of the shade’s neck, a small bead of blood welled from the tiny cut the blade had inflicted, slowly tracing a crimson path across the skin as gravity pulled it ever downwards towards the earth.
T’Keela frowned at Dross, who flinched away from the warrior’s steely-eyed gaze.
“We already know Varranaithe is in Ghrond, if that is all you have to offer then you can save your breath.”
“Just get on with it,” snarled Malthang, “We have wasted too much time here already.”
“We could help you!” pleaded Dross, “you could use our skills.” Sirulleathe raised his knife again, and Malthang levelled his crossbow at Dross’ head.
“Lenya, help us,” pleaded the shade. A brief flash of what might have been pity glimmered in Lenya’s eyes, but she remained steadfastly silent.
“Let us join you!”

Simple decision, make your votes, do you dispose of the shade brothers or let them join the squad and see if they come in handy? After that you will be finishing your journey to Ghrond so you may also want to discuss in what manner you intend to enter the North tower, it is a military fort and so your presence there will be unusual, how do you intend to start your search for him, will you find a place to stay, a base of operations, or get straight on with it? Do you think your mark has friends in the city who will look out for him? What are your contingency plans in case not all goes as planned? Deadline is Sunday night for Monday morning mod post.

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Tue Apr 12, 2011 1:19 pm
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Joined: Wed Dec 23, 2009 10:48 pm
Posts: 156
Post 
Ooc: apologise for the lack of posts, am currently on holiday and getting time is a challenge!

Ic:

Malthang looked on in disgust at the pathetic, mewling attempts of the shades to preserve their own miserable lives. They had failed at their ambush and now they thought that they could buy their way back out with a scrap of information? I may be an exile but these pieces of hydra shiz truely dishonour the name of autarii.
I say we kill them here and now, these bastards deserve no better. Malthang said with an unusual amount of venom in his voice. We know where we are headed, what use could we have for a pair of failed shades? Besides, I know these two, they are backstabbers and turncoats, not fit to hunt in a target range. They are a liability and one I am not prepared to allow to our task. Malthang raised his crossbow once more, taking aim at the spot between Dross' eyes.
We can stand here and argue the toss of it all we like but I have cast my vote on this matter. Once we dispose of these two we can approach Ghrond, Lenya and I can enter by stealth and forge a path for the rest of you to follow. We take the Mark down quick and hard and then get out fast because once we start kicking things up all hell is going to break loose. Once we get to Ghrond we can refine the hunting plan based on the lay of the land, garrisons and patrols as we see fit. As for a contingency, we are all lone hunters at the end of the day, we can carve our own way out and set up a meet point outside of the city limits to re-evaluate and strike again. Though personally I find a kill the first time to be considerably simpler.
With that Malthang sighted carefully down his sights at Dross and waited.

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Only by the blade can weakness be purged.


Sun Apr 17, 2011 12:54 pm
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Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:05 am
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Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
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“No objections? Good.” Malthang smiled hungrily, sighting along his crossbow.
“Curse you Ravensbane, one day you will regret this,” snarled Dross.
“Oh do shut up, I’ve had enough of your whining,” growled Malthang. The shade opened his mouth to retort but before he could utter another word, Malthang’s finger squeezed the trigger, the twang of the crossbow discharging was instantly followed with the crunch of the bolt punching through the shade’s forehead, carving its way through brain matter until it struck the back of the shade’s skull, which resisted for the slightest fraction of a second, before it too gave way in a shower of blood and fragments of splintered bone. Dross’ body spasmed once, and then lay deathly still. Malthang took a long moment to gaze upon the corpse of his old enemy, and then turned away.

Sirulleathe watched as Malthang put a bolt between Dross’ eyes with clinical precision, turning to his own victim, he saw the begs and pleas for mercy die on the shade’s lips as he stared into the Khainite’s cold, pitiless eyes. The eyes of a murderer, the eyes of one so used to spilling blood that he considered it as normal and casual as breathing, the eyes of one for whom no plea nor cry will provoke so much as the slightest moment of hesitation nor regret. The shade died soundlessly, blood cascading from the ear-to-ear cut across his throat. Sirulleathe leapt nimbly from the tree, landing in a crouch on the ground below, behind him Cesq’s corspe struck the earth with a dull thud, still twitching occasionally with the last vestiges of life as whatever was left of his tainted soul slipped from it’s mortal bonds and fled into the abyss.

Sirulleathe slowly stalked towards the rest of the group, his face was splattered with gore, and there was a long gash across his chest where the handgunner’s bullet had scraped across his skin, leaving a ragged cut in the fabric of the Khainite’s clothing and a streak of blood across his iron-grey skin. He looked like the very embodiment of the shadows had coalesced into elven form to wreak havoc upon the denizens of this land, for a moment, it looked as if the Khainite was about to explode into a whirlwind of lethal motion again and assault his fellow hunters whilst the blood lust was still running hot through his veins, but the moment passed and he returned to his usual relaxed posture.
“What now?” He whispered in his peculiar voice, without a trace of strain from the recent encounter, nor any evidence of the pain he must have been feeling from his wounds. Malthang outlined his plan, and it was swiftly agreed that no more could be decided until they reached the North tower and saw the lay of the land.
“That cut appears quite deep,” noted Lenya in a concerned voice, not an ‘I care about your health' sort of concern but an ‘I care about whether you’re going to slow me down and I’ll have to kill you’ sort of concern. Sirulleathe flashed her one of his wintry smiles.
“I will live. Along our way to Ghrond I’m sure I can collect some herbs and plants to fashion some form of remedy, it will not be perfect, but it will suffice, my knowledge of the flora of these areas is sadly limited.” Lenya seemed to accept this, and turned away to gather her own things for the hike to the North Tower.
“What of Loathren?” asked Malthang.
“He looked fairly dead to me,” said T’Keela, “And even if he miraculously survives, he won’t be in any shape to help us, I say leave him for the crows and divide his cut between us.” The other hunters considered this cold assessment for a moment.
“As I said before, we’ve wasted enough time here already, let’s move on,” said Malthang, one by one the hunters turned their backs on the woods, and started upon the final leg of their trip to the north tower.
Lenya was the last to turn away.
“He got up before, perhaps he shall do so again.” Then she too turned away, and headed North.

The encounter with the rival bounty hunters in the woods is over, and most of you have walked away relatively unharmed, Loathren has been inactive for some time so I have removed him from the group. You are travelling to Ghrond and my next mod post will put you outside the city where you can get an idea of the situation and finalise your plans, until then, for this week you can make any interactions with other players, the environment or Sirulleathe, I will include ‘off-weeks’ like this from time to time so that you can interact with each other and have a chance to develop your character and their relationships with others, it’s a bit hard to hold an important conversation when you’re being shot at, and it also gives you lot a bit of a break for a week, though judging by the post count recently you don’t need my encouragement for that ;) . I do like to keep my group at four players so you may encounter some reinforcements in Ghrond, I have a feeling you may need it :twisted: . So take the chance to have a chat, discuss how things are going and perhaps the overall plan for the hunt, maybe now’s the time to have a look at organising some skill building. Deadline is Sunday night for Monday morning mod post.

_________________
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.


Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:02 pm
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Executioner

Joined: Wed Dec 23, 2009 10:48 pm
Posts: 156
Post 
Malthang led the way from the scene of their latest brush with death. It seemed to be becoming a bit of a habit for them these days. Still, at least those pieces of Manticore droppings finally got what they deserved. Malthang mused with a smile. He looked back briefly at the group, catching Sirulleathe watching him. He held to one side, allowing the rest of the group to pass and to fall into place at the Khainite's side.
So, should we continue our lessons? Judging by the way our form is currently continuing I may be well served by being able to heal myself and others. And I can further my instruction to you of the art of working with poison if you wish by way of payment? It seems....selfish to keep such skills to ourselves don't you think?
Malthang stopped short of actually liking the Khainite, such things were hard to come by in the world of the Druchii. But he definitely held a great deal of respect for his abilities and to learn from him would be considered a great honour, especially as he and his kin were so often shunned as wildness born savages.
I'm almost considering rethinking my opinion of city-dwellers. He thought with a wry grin before his eye caught sight of T'Keela struggling through the undergrowth in his armour. Almost....
So then, what say you Khainite? An exchange of knowledge?

_________________
Only by the blade can weakness be purged.


Sun Apr 24, 2011 10:55 pm
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