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Group 42 - Chapter 1: The Prisoner 
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The first one to notice the new force approaching was Caraoc. As he was hiding behind a tree, waiting for a new spell the battle priest was without doubt going to try, he suddenly felt a new presence in the winds of magic: a presence strong and domineering, of a power unmatched by anyone nearby, coloured in cold and dark tones. It was similar to the feeling from his new book but while the tome was directing all its energy to self-preservation, this new caster or artefact was orientated on an exclusive offense.

When the warrior priest tried to strike again, the scald was ready and enveloped his mind with Azyr energies, confusing him and causing the energies the human had gathered to dissolve harmlessly. Soon after, though, the approaching caster grasped for the winds – for all winds at once if Caraoc was right – and shaped them with such a raw power that no one even thought of opposing.

***

Ladry barely noticed this as there were flames all around her, biting her flesh add filling her soul with ecstasy and despair to the same extent. Just a few moments ago, she had been weaving a spell to finally get rid of the fools trying to attack her; the wall of fire materialized all around her indeed but the flames were hungrier than she had thought. They grasped for the humans and wrapped them in bright regal robes even daughters of kings could only dream of; at the same time, though, they reached inwards as well, for her own flesh and blood. Now she was standing in union with them while the humans were backing off in fear in pain and this fear and suffering was further empowering both her flames and herself.

This was how turning into an elemental would probably feel.

***

Searinox, having won his duel, looked around. While he had all reasons to feel satisfied with himself, there were other combatants still fighting – Analya who was attacking the bronze-haired brothers again, Dolan falling back in line with his comrades and several others. There should have been enough time for him to help somewhere.

Then, however, he heard a shout in Druhir, coming from a voice he could not recognize:

“For Malekith! Glory to the Druchii!”

A new host was quickly approaching, several dozens of fresh dark elven corsairs led by a man in a steel breast plate and what seemed to be a proper sea dragon cloak and a tall elf with a banner depicting a cold one munching a broken spear. The disgraced noble also noticed a woman among them who could have been nothing but a sorceress: clad only in a long skirt and a small piece of cloth covering her chest, weaving her naked arms in the air and calling words in a strange tongue.
Soon, the pace of all combats changed: the humans were now grimacing with pain and fighting with unnatural, cramped movements while the elves lost nothing from their ease. Analya evaded a clumsy musket strike, cut the older of her opponents three times and spun quickly around to face the other one; Dolan, in spite of his wound, caught a halberd between his sword and shield and an elf quickly opened the chest of its wielder.

Then, the sorceress gestured once more and pointed her right arm towards the priest who was desperately calling for Sigmar to help him stop her spells. A bolt of black chilling fire left her hand, small at first but swiftly growing and gaining speed; soon it shrouded the human completely, and when the light faded, his body remained as cold as the sorceress´ magic.

Soon, the commander was the only human still fighting. Seeing that everything was lost, he stirred his mount for a last charge against the newly arrived wizard. The approaching host was expecting this, though, and sent a dense cloud of crossbow bolts towards him. Many were deflected by armour but some found their mark. The plated man fell slowly in the mud and then, a silence took over for a brief moment as the fight was finally over.

***

The corsairs of The Hungry Gaze were eyeing the newcomers with suspicion; they in turn were remaining in tight formation with wary faces and crossbows ready. Without delay, the armoured elf with a cold one on his shield stepped forwards and spoke out:

“It is an honour to meet you, fellow servants of the Witch King. I apologize for intruding in your battle but we had been preying on this tax collector for days and your fight was hardly decided when we arrived. Do not worry; you will not go short on gold.”


He was a seasoned veteran obviously, with many small wrinkles around his eyes, with dry skin and strokes of grey in his dark eyes. His armour and the cloth underneath were in perfect shape, however, repaired on some spots but clean and polished as best as one could hope to on a raid.

“Let me introduce myself, first,” he continued quickly, before anyone could have interrupted. “I am Hereny of House Mazier, captain of The Tempestous. I have been a faithful servant of the Witch King for long years and I intend to serve him for many more. Here, I am on the usual quest of sacking the coast, mostly small towns or forgotten castles and abbeys. The time is good for this as a margrave has been arrested just recently and so the opposition is divided. I command forty three corsairs, added by eight mercenaries.

On my right stands Shyamal of House Mazier, a dark sorceress who has completed her studies in Ghrond with the best results and is now seeking ways to better understand the winds of magic and enhance her power. To cut this speech short, I will not mention my companions of lesser ranks for now, even though I value them greatly.”


The woman he had introduced was young, she seemed to be half his age or maybe even less; one could have easily imagined it had been a negligible time since she had left the academies. She was as beautiful as Dark Elf sorceresses are said to be, with dark hair flowing unrestrained and blue eyes wide and soft. She was looking somewhat fragile and certainly more elegant than arousing, despite she was showing her belly, arms and the whole back and although the cloth covering her chest was so light it was leaving one guessing if it wasn’t possible to see through it at times.

A corsair walked towards the two with a cloak in his hands; the captain took it from him and wrapped it around the shoulders of his beautiful companion. The sorceress thanked him with a short smile and then looked away and observed absent-mindedly what was going on.

“Now,” captain Hereny looked around, “may I ask who is your leader?”

The faces of sailors from The Hungry Gaze began to turn towards Incaneth who was just descending on the road. A rash woman’s voice took over, though, before he could have said a word.

“It is me you want to speak to,” claimed Analya and walked up in the open. “You will surely remember the unprecedented bet placed in an audience hall. As you will remember the girl who always wanted you to tell stories about your duels. Khaela sends best regards, by the way. I hope you will fill me in about everything you found out as soon as possible.”

The captain was looking at her strangely for some time but bowed deeply once her speech was over. “Of course, my lady,” he answered. “I will help you however I can.”

“Lady Shyamal,” now it was Analya who was bowing with respect, “we never met before today but I have heard only the best about you. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.” She even slowed down her speech slightly, as if finally speaking with someone worth her time.

The sorceress bowed back and replied in a polite way but returned to her distant pose immediately as if nothing around her interested her at all. Now it was impossible to overlook how unnaturally clean she was: in contrast to Analya who had wet clothes and mud all over, contrary to Hereny and his host whose boots were covered in filth after a long and swift march, there was nothing that would have offended the perfection of Shyamal’s appearance. The few raindrops that were allowed to sit on her hair were looking more like jewels and even were reflecting light slightly despite the sky was still not to see.

Turning back to her fellow fighters, the fencer remarked: “See? Those forty corsairs are bowing before me. You should probably do the same.”

Turning to the first officer and switching to a more serious tone, she proposed: “Incaneth, Hereny, let us settle on this for now. The corsairs from The Hungry Gaze loot the humans. They deserve it after a fight this long. The commanders will only get searched when an observer from The Tempestous sees it and all documents will only be read in the presence of us all. We will split the gold later but in such a way that every corsair from The Hungry Gaze gets at least as much as a corsair from The Tempestous. Is this acceptable for you?”

After two nods – a slightly confused but unhesitating one from Hereny, a reluctand one from Incaneth – the two elves turned to their crews to organize them. There were wounded to attend, dead to loot, gold to count and gossip to share. Hereny and Analya then disappeared between the trees.

Ladry suffers a miscast. The spell goes off, scorches the humans a bit and forces them back but Ladry gets some burns, too. They will probably last a few days.
A new host of approximately forty fighters enters the fight. They have a dark sorceress who curses the humans with Word of Pain; the corsairs from The Hungry Gaze are then able to wipe them out quickly. In addition, she kills the warrior priest with a doombolt.
The commander gets pin cushioned with a zillion of arrows.
The name of the newly arrived commander is Hereny of House Mazier, the sorceress is Shyamal of House Mazier.
Analya tries to throw orders and it seems Hereny accepts it. Incaneth looks suspicious but is not objecting for now.
Analya and Hereny go away to plot something, the others get to work on the battlefield: helping the wounded, looting the dead.


Comments:
You are all allowed to know House Mazier or Hereny himself. The House is a lesser noble family of limited importance but the reputation of being solid partners in raids or trade. Hereny himself is indeed a seasoned veteran, known not as much for the riches he had acquired but rather for various dire situations he got out of. You may very well know a tale or two about him so devise one if you wish. Most of the stories are not true anyway as sailors are a bunch of drunk liars, of course.

I will sum up how various NPCs address each other as the protocol is probably quite strict in this regard but none of us players knows it so I am not sure it is clear from my descriptions:

Analya -> Hereny: as if addressing someone of high respect but lower status
Hereny -> Analya: as if addressing a direct superior
Analya -> Shyamal: same status, high respect
Shyamal -> Analya: unknown person
Hereny -> Shyamal: not much to say at the moment but in some ways it resembles a lower noble’s behaviour to a son of a higher noble the lesser one was asked to educate
Shyamal -> Hereny: almost no data available. She seems to barely notice him at all which might and might not be a pose. She appreciated his gallant gesture with the cloak, however.
Hereny <-> Incaneth: equal status, normal amount of respect

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Tue Oct 21, 2014 4:05 pm
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When the three humans started to encircle her, Ladry thrust her arms outward, using the feedback of her latest victim. Soon, the bottom of the forest was ablaze with glorious fire, and the screams of the humans as their flesh singed was pure ecstasy. More.... More! MORE!!!!! The sensation was nearly too much to bear. More intense than a thousand heated embraces of a lover, and more gruesome than the cruelest flayings and deaths of a thousand loved ones. She no longer conjured the fire; she was the fire, and the fire was her. A flick of her wrist, and one human was wreathed with beautiful scarlet robes. A flick of her finger, and another human was a grim masquerade of a scarlet clad husk. A turn of her head, and the third human rose to the skies in a flurry of ash and steam and smoke, leaving nothing behind but searing hot metal of sword and mail. The fire filled her as she filled it, and she wished for nothing more than an eternity here...

No! Enough! With force of will, Ladry dismissed the flames in the only manner logical: outwards. A sphere of fire all but exploded with her singed figure as the epicenter, and with a loud cry she fell to the ground, three charred husks accompanying her, and the entire scenery covered with a thick layer of fog and mist as the enthalpy of her magic was evaporating the raindrops even as they fell. Her hair was somehow unharmed, protected by her cloak, but said cloak had been seared around the edges, and her arms and face was all but shining red. She could not remember ever feeling this exhausted, and it was an immense struggle to even get back to a standing position, much less walk. She stumbled towards a tree, leaning on the seared bark. It was hot to the touch, but she did not care. Through blurry eyes, she saw that others had approached. Or was she seeing the corsairs twice? No, too many newcomers... Speaking Druhir, no less... And the faint touch of darkness in the winds of magic. What had happened?

Ladry has heard maybe half of the intro speech. Enough to know the two important names for sure, but she probably missed Analyas "leadership assumption" entirely.

_________________
Name: Ladry (female)
Class: Mage (Pyromancer)
Equipment: Staff, longsword, dagger, 20 gold, insignia ring.
Skills: Power of Aqshy (2), defensive figthing
WS4, S2, T3, D4, I6.


Tue Oct 21, 2014 5:03 pm
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The Human's spells could not be captured by the Astromancer, but Caraoc was still able to confuse the Human's mind and prevent more spell casting.
From his position, nobody paying attention to him, he could easily monitor what was going on.

Then everything went unexpected and bizarre - and Caraoc sure know what bizarre was.
A large disturbance in the winds of magic signalled a powerful Dark Sorceress tapping all the Winds simultaneously, and casting something dreadful.
"That could be only bad news", thought the pilot. Either bad for his party, if they had to fight a second time for their booty.
Or bad for Caraoc, if the newcomers were coming for the rescue, as he who would have more difficulties to keep his magic abilities hidden.

Suddenly, Ladry went abraze. At least, her own shining tap on the wind of magic would only help Caraoc to remain under the cover.
The scald admired the fantastic shape but dared not imagine what the girl would look like later with a burned hair.

The newcomers eradicated swiftly the remaining Humans. There was little doubt that the Hungry Gaze's crew would have to leave them pick up whatever they wished.
But suddenly, the scald recognized the coat of arms. The newcomer's leader was a Druchii legend: Lord Hereny of House Mazier, captain of The Tempestous.
And soon he confirmed his name. It was a relief, as his reputation was one of a Noble who achieved his deeds with much more talent than treachery.
Caraoc was exited, that was the first time he met the famous captain - although they did once belong to the same Fleet, under command of Admiral Duriath Helbaine. At that time, they did not usually go to the same kind of taverns.
After a couple months at sea, Caraoc's ship had to evade mountains of ice and lost the rest of the fleet shortly before discovering the lost islands of Elithis - or so said the legend.

Then Analya jumped in and claimed to be their leaders!
Caraoc couldn't believe his ears, but Incaneth seemed to have forfeited his title.
Obviously, she knew Hereny and the sorceress. When realizing Analya's rank, the barefoot corsair tried to remember all he could have said to Analya during these days when she pretended to be much lower status as she proved to be ultimately.
But fortunately his jokes had never been as sexually explicit as what many seamen would say among themselves - they were not stupid as to address the noble woman directly, but often daring enough to let her hear them.

Incredibly, that was not enough for Analya, she gave orders to Hereny and Incaneth! What kind of lady was she?
As the two captains accepted her leadership, corsairs from both parties resumed business: booty!
Caraoc was dressed as a corsair, he took back his horn and joined the gang.
It was too early to mix with the newcomers, time will come later to know each other.

But as the scald was examining the pockets of the musketeer he had beheaded, he heared behind him a familiar voice telling:
"By the seventh seal of Ladrielle, it's not possibly you, Caraoc? Did your awful songs convince Nethu to let you get out of Hell? Don't tell me they let you touch any helm, do they?"
The scald looked behind, and smiled:
"No way, Khalek himself? I thought you had jumped in that Kharibdyss' tentacles only to avoid pay me back those two gold pieces you still owe me!"
Obviously both of them recalled very well these crazy nights spent together ashore before Duriath ordered to get underway.
They pursued their chatting as they were doing their looting business. Caraoc was looking for a spare handbow at the same time.

Looting - he too finds old friends. Looking for a 2nd RHB.
Keeping absolute zero magic profile.

_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

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Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Thu Oct 23, 2014 9:11 pm
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As Gilvaad followed the rest of the crew, the sounds of battle started to permeate through the woods. Not willing to get involved in a straight fight, he staled his stride somewhat until towards the back of the Corsairs.
The sight of magic being unleashed recklessly was cause to pull back even further, never one for the arcane arts, this was not the time to gawk or be catch in the crossfire.

The fight was over quickly and by hanging back Gilvaad was able to avoid all of the action, but started to move forward in the ranks as the leaders started their discourse.

Gilvaad will stay within the Corsairs and listen for the moment

OCC. Just a quick post for the moment whilst we integrate.

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Sat Oct 25, 2014 11:34 pm
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Searinox was fully absorbed in the moment. Finally, after all this travel, he had met his first worthy opponent. 'Glorious... Splendid...'. Though he could not linger to long, the fight still wasn't over. Looking around he could see Analya and Dolan still fighting on. Weighing in the situation Dolan was surrounded by Corsairs while Analya was on her own. He quickly decided to aid he in her fight against the bronze-haired humans.

Though before he could even move to assist her, a chill ran along his spine. 'This feeling! It can't be!' He hadn't felt this in a long time. It stirred up a lot of emotions, anger, joy, resent, more anger. He quickly turned around to face the direction this feeling was coming from. 'No... It's the same... but different still.' Soon he saw the incoming Corsairs, most likely to support them... but who knew what it would lead too, most likely fighting about the spoils.

The fighting had finally ended, and soon a armoured elf stepped forward and introduced himself. Yet for Searinox he did not need one. He quickly recognized the markings on the shield to belong to the House Mazier. The man wielded it seemed to be great Hereny himself. 'Blast... if he saw me fight my cover might be blown...' Searinox quickly calmed himself with the knowledge that the battle was hectic and it was unlikely that he would have been recognized. That and while his father had sailed numerous times with House Hereny, Searinox himself never truly encountered any of it's more prominent members.

He then introduced the sorceress, she was emitting the same aura as his sister... dominant, thinking herself greater then everyone else. Searinox despised it and if given the chance he would prefer to rip her down from that high pedestal of hers. Yet he knew that he would never get away with it. Not with all those bodyguards around her.

When Hereny asked for their leader Analya quickly stepped up to claim the title. This surprised Searinox. Not for Analya claiming the title for herself, she was bold enough of a woman to do this and it was a quality he admired in her. What surprised him was that Incaneth didn't object on the spot.
The fact that Hereny was showing great respect to Analya also surprised him. Who thought that this big mouthed woman actually commanded respect from other Houses and could get away with it. After formalities where made and deals made Analya turned to her own comrades.

“See? Those forty corsairs are bowing before me. You should probably do the same.”
whilst Searinox was trying to keep a low profile he couldn't help but respond to this remark.
"Analya I wouldn't bow before you if Ladrielle herself commanded me to."
He quickly turned around again and walked towards Ladry. During the fighting he had noticed that she was summoning great quantities of scarlet fire and it seemed this had exhausted her.
He reached out with his hand with a mocking smile. "Need a hand standing?"

Trying to keep a low profile to avoid unmasking himself.
granting Ladry a helping hand.
will search the Hatted Man's corpse for anything useful afterwards.

_________________
PLOG - The House of Corvus
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Group 41- Name: Searinox Nagharha - Shade
WS:5 S:3 T:3 D:4 I:4
Equipment: Long sword; Falchion (family heirloom), Very Good Sabre, Short sword, Dagger, Throwing Dagger (4) SeaDragon Cloak, Chain
Inventory: 30 gold (214 still to be paid), Silver Bracelet, several flagons: 1x Strength potion, 3x Courage potion, 3x Healing Potion.
Skills: Two Weapon Fighting, Acrobatics, Basic Stealth


Mon Oct 27, 2014 7:22 pm
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Incaneth was walking the battlefield, assessing the situation and issuing orders.
“Keep calm. Tend to the wounded. Loot the common soldiers. Rest. Do nothing spectacular. Let us see what the self-important girl has in mind. I do not think she can hurt our cause much.”
No one was giving a look to the dead humans all around – there were too many injured to care for, Hendor with bloodied face and several broken ribs, Galder with a long cut across his chest, almost everyone had at least a smaller wound. The luckier elves were bandaging their comrades and offering them medicaments.
From the South – the direction the convoy was originally heading to – two other fighters emerged, slightly winded after running for a long time.
“You started without us!” complained Kirvaleth. “I hope this won't affect our sold.”
Kruz looked around. “So many injured but I can see no dead elf. Strange. You are a really lucky bunch I suppose.”
Together, they walked the battlefield, trying to understand the situation.

***

“You burnt me!” Ladry did not see the corsair coming as she was still too dazzled from exhaustion. Now he was yelling at her from a far closer distance than she would deem comfortable. “You almost killed me! What were you thinking?”
Before she could react, though, another voice fell in, out of nowhere, and she saw the two towering figures of the newly arrived mercenaries.
“I see six charred humans around but no dead elf,” said Darven Kruz, stepping between the corsair and Ladry. “Small burns are insignificant. Obviously she knew what she was doing. Now, if you want our best fighter to cover your back again you will let her rest and loot someone before there is nothing left for you.”
The corsair stared him angrily for a while but then just shook his head and went away.
In the meantime, Kirvaleth turned to Ladry and handed her a bottle. “You should drink something. A few gasps of water will make you feel better.”
Soon after, Searinox arrived as well and so the fire mage was suddenly surrounded by three men offering aid.

***

“See? Those forty corsairs are bowing before me. You should probably do the same.” Those words were met with a slight chuckle from some corsairs and eye rolling from others; the only one who complied was Iscar who bowed in such exaggerated manner that several elves, including Analya herself, gave him amused looks. This was not the last reaction, however.

„Analya I wouldn't bow before you if Ladrielle herself commanded me to,” said Searinox, breaking his low-profile behaviour before it even begun. In answer to this, the girl smiled delightedly and said with an unusually melodic voice: “Are the feelings I am inspiring in you really this strong? I feel flattered.” Then, luckily perhaps, the two elves parted ways at last.

***

After he left Ladry again, Searinox leaned over the now hatless man to claim his rightful loot. In no time, a corsair he did not recognize appeared and nodded in greeting.

“Just observing if there are some letters,” he shrugged. After this, he barely made a sound.

It was now clearer than ever the dead human had been wealthy. His cloak, shirt, trousers were all from fine cloth and fitting neatly on his body and his leather boots would surely offer a firm stance anywhere. Even covered in mud, there was some elegance remaining in the clothes.

Strangely, though, the man had been carrying almost nothing. His gold poach was almost empty, he only had a common dagger on his belt and he wore no jewels except a small bracelet; this thing was basically only two thin strings of gold, interwoven with each other and decorated with tiny leafs; there was not much gold there but it looked nice if somewhat girly in its fragility. The man's horse carried a sack but there was almost nothing there, either – just some bread and cheese, a flask with wine and a lyre, wrapped in several spare pieces of cloth.

His sabre, though, was a very good piece of work, perfectly balanced, with flawless edge, simple but dangerous, truly a weapon for an exceptional fencer.

***

"No way, Khalek himself? I thought you had jumped in that Kharibdyss' tentacles only to avoid pay me back those two gold pieces you still owe me!"

The sudden meeting with an old acquaintance was happening in a friendly tone, even though debts were the first thing to being brought on. Khalek chuckled and answered:

“But Caraoc, I did return the gold to you. It is not my fault you left it on the table when you had to flee the tavern in such a hurry.” He grimaced amusedly and added: “I told you it was a bad idea to sing funny songs about His Majesty Muscle Head while he was in the same room, didn't I?”

Together, they were working through the dead humans, salvaging a bit of gold here, some food or a small jewel there. Each time Khalek found something he handed it over to the scald immediately.

“And who are those poor chaps you are torturing now, anyway?”

***

As the attention of other corsairs was loosening, Gilvaad was able to get to the front ranks. He could not have understood what Hereny and that girl he had bowed to were talking about as they were too far from him; it was easy for him, though, to hear most of the other conversations if he tried, provided they were not really secretive. All around him, there were other corsairs, eyeing the host of The Hungry Gaze with a mix of suspicion, grumpiness and boredom. Lady Shyamal was among them, the only one given a good portion of personal space. She was inspecting the battlefield for some time and then turned to the corsairs, looking in the direction of Gilvaad.

“Have you already encountered those warrior priests?” she asked no one in particular. “I was told they can be very dangerous but this one seemed rather weak. Can you tell if he was just surprised or improperly schooled?”

***

Near the cart which still somewhat smelt with gunpowder, Dolan was scouring the ground. He was limping heavily and his face was showing how much pain the wound in his side was causing but he was determinedly proceeding forwards, putting aside dead bodies, getting round the other elves but never skipping an inch of the ground.

For a long time, his search was fruitless. He was mostly finding mud and more mud, putting aside a lost weapon or a stepping over a tree root occasionally. Finally, though, his search was crowned with success and he picked up a strange helm from the ground, made from a human's skull by a considerably skilled smith. Dolan sighed, cleaned it from mud and looked gravely in its eyes.

“Paithan, you craze, why did you do this? You died a good dead. Stupid but glorious. We should probably make some sort of funeral for you.”


Some off-time, giving space for conversation, looting, plotting and such. :) I will react to your ideas and then send the story further.


loot: Searinox: lyre, very good sabre, ordinary dagger, bracelet, some common loot
Caraoc: common loot - no handbow sadly

You can decide yourselves what this common loot exactly is - gold, food, alcohol?

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The Lost Colony defenders - Rowena's painting log

Alternative Armies - because we can build any army without GW!


Sat Nov 01, 2014 3:04 pm
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The presence of one more sorceress made Caraoc nervous, all the more that she appeared to be a potent one.
He was weary about Malekith's ruling on male sorcerers. Sure, many a Druchii would not care to enforce a tyrannic law made by a far distant ruler if it did not serve their direct interest.
But you never knew. In case he would be challenged, he was prepared to pretend staunchly that all sources of magic around him was coming from his horn and his book, and he would play the fool as a scald embedded with very convincing poetry.
He was relieved to have regained control of Ghur self-transformation and avoided tapping the magic winds as the foreign sorceress was approaching.

-=-=-

Anyway, there was no immediate concern.
Khalek and Caraoc were searching dead bodies. His old comrade respected well the ancient corsair's etiquette. He left Caraoc to decide who would keep whatever they found, considering that he had joined the fight only for a final help while the scald was present since the beginning. Caraoc knew to behave as well, and even if he kept the four goldpieces found for himself, arguing about an old debt, he took care that Kalek be happy with a fine emerald enshrined in a noble's ring, which was worth easily as much as his own share.
The five human daily rations they each found seemed palatable, always a good surprise in these northern shores of Empire. Giant sausages, loaves of black bread, smoked herring and bretzels... the Humans might not have been the richest of them all, but they sure knew how to keep a stomack full. Only sauerkraut was decidely too human for Caraoc's taste.
Most interesting was the content of a dozen bottles. Any corsair knew by cheerful experience the meaning of Bugman XXX or Kräuterikörschnapps. That was the promise of merry nights, once gone back to the ship.

-=-=-

Distracted by the looting, by Khalek's company and by his own thoughts, Caraoc bumped into one of the members of the new party. A dark squatted silhouette, searching a corpse with little movement in the rainy night, he was not spotted by the scald.
Caraoc had no time to realize what was happening when the other Elf, a a small runt of a Druchii, with long dark platted hair and a very pale almost sickly complexion, grabbed him by the throat. Clad in faded, old dark softened hides from head to toe, a long dark hooded cloak of dark grey sturdy wool, he was nearly invisible except for a blowpipe emerging from his back.
"Don't you ever..." said the hooded Elf. But Khalek interrupted him:
"Easy, Gilvaad, this Elf is my buddy. Leave his throat alone, he sings awfully enough already."

Unexpected meeting with Gilvaad.

OOC: I rolled D6 for each category of common loot, resulting into 4 gold, 5 food, 6 alcohol.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, Book On the boundary between life and death, sunstone, sextant, set of navigational instruments; 24 gold + share + 5 food + 6 alcohol.
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

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Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Sun Nov 02, 2014 9:44 pm
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The name ‘Hungry Gaze’ caused Gilvaad to pause; could it have been this simple? The goddess was obviously casting her fortune upon him. This could be easy money.

Taking stock of these new Druchii, Gilvaad started to shift through the individuals, most seemed to be common mercenaries and corsair crew, however there seemed to be some unique individuals. The fire witch, an individual to assess at a later time once her focus returns to something a little less destructive in nature. The Shade that seemed to go to her aid, he had something about him, a hint of recognition perhaps. Filing away his initial assessment of their capabilities, arms and armour he brought his attention back to the immediate situation.

“Have you already encountered those warrior priests?”, Lady Shyamal asked no one in particular. “I was told they can be very dangerous but this one seemed rather weak. Can you tell if he was just surprised or improperly schooled?”

Not really knowing the answer to this question and unwilling to show his ignorance to others Gilvaad remained quiet and attentive; any knowledge gained here would be an asset for later. Perhaps another of the crew may have fought against these pitiful human priests.

It however seemed no one was willing to answer the Sorceress and with a frustrated look, she turned her attention elsewhere.

Taking the opportunity quick survey of the battlefield and Gilvaad noticed a couple of corpses that had yet to be looted. Taking advantage, he quickly knelt besides one and stripped off the only real item of value, a common longsword of adequate quality. Disappointed at the lack of any other valuables he understood why they had been left undisturbed.
Just as he was about to move on, he felt a bump in the back, some oaf of an individual with the perception of a blind goblin had the audacity to collide with him. Reacting in the way he had against his brothers whilst growing up, he immediately grabbed the scald by the throat.

"Don't you ever...", spat Gilvaad. Before he could finish the sentence however he was interrupted by one of companions, Khalek.

"Easy, Gilvaad, this Elf is my buddy. Leave his throat alone, he sings awfully enough already."

Releasing his head, Gilvaad bows as an apology for the overreaction and states, “Gilvaad” as a way of introduction.

Sizing up this new individual Gilvaad waits upon a reaction

OOC – Hope you don’t mind me looting a sword. I don’t. Some corsair might, though - we will see. :) // Marchosias

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Tue Nov 04, 2014 10:38 pm
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As Gilvaad was bowing to the new elf that had bumped into him, another corsair approached them. This time, it was one of the crewmen from The Tempestous - bald, muscular, with several scars. Gilvaad had noticed him several times during their sail; mostly he was drinking with the others, fighting in the biggest fray or seeking for extra food. He was strong, simple and crude, the very opposite of the runt he was now yelling at.

"Hey, mister, what do you think you're doing? We're not to loot anyone, did you forget? Or are you to blind to see that captain Hereny complied with this?"

He was leaning forwards aggressively, standing closer to Gilvaad than even the relaxed corsair etiquette would allow. Because of his words, several other elves took attention in their group, too, and were listening what would happen next.

A corsair from The Tempestous is yelling at Gilvaad about looting what he was not supposed to loot.

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Thu Nov 06, 2014 5:34 pm
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"Hey, mister, what do you think you're doing? We're not to loot anyone, did you forget? Or are you to blind to see that captain Hereny complied with this?"

Astonished at the sudden onslaught of verbal abuse, Gilvaad turned to face the challenger and drew himself upright.

“Do you think me some sort of gharbhin?”, he retorted in an even tone, “or perhaps your father mated with a harbhui to conceive an individual as witless as you?”

Leaning close in, Gilvaad swiftly draws two knives and presses them to the Corsairs stomach.

“Perhaps you are unaware that I am not one of your precious crew and owe no allegiance to your captain. I serve a higher cause, sent by those who have the power to destroy you and your family, do not seek to interfere with me or I will gut you for everyones amusement.”

“Now would you like to get back out of my face?”


Trying to look threatening and making a point

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Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:01 pm
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His throat was hurting.
Caraoc remained speechless when the dark thing he had bumped into revealed himself as... "Gilvaad".
Then unexpectedly, a corsair from the other crew challenged Gilvaad, who explained he was not part of the other crew, but served higher masters.

In doubt, the skald retreated two steps and tried to apologize the best he could:
"Arrghxuse me mylokhd. I'm the skald cakhaogh... Kah - Rrah - Okk."

Low profile.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, Book On the boundary between life and death, sunstone, sextant, set of navigational instruments; 24 gold + share + 5 food + 6 alcohol.
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

_________________
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:15 pm
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“You burnt me!” The indignant shout from a corsair appeared as though it came from a mile away. Ladry looked at the man as through a thick fog, but she pulled herself together as the world snapped back into focus. “You almost killed me! What were you thinking?”
But before she could retort, Darven and Kirvaleth stepped in front of her, repelling the angry corsair with a swift remark and a nod towards the looting frenzy. When Kirvaleth offered her a flask of water, she readily accepted it and all but inhaled the soothing liquid. Every mouthful was to her as a spring amidst a barren desert must be to a man dying of thirst, and when she stopped drinking she gasped for air. She offered her thanks to him as he accepted the noticeably lighter bottle back from her.

The third voice that appeared held a mocking tone. "Need a hand standing?" Searinox had left his field of glory to attend to her. Somehow, it was puzzling that this man would display such a fearsome dueling ability, only to concede all claims of the glory to get her to her feet... But that was a puzzle best kept for later, as her head was still adjusting from the whole ordeal. Instead, she accepted the outstretched hand, put a gracious smile on her face and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Why thank you Sear, that is most courteous of you!" she returned in an almost-equally mocking manner, although she did also appreciate all the help. It was almost a little much - she mustn't appear weak. Although a quick glance on her handiwork told her that weakness was probably the last thing she had just displayed. "Who are those people, and what are they doing here? I did not really hear the introductions properly..." she motioned in the direction of the newly arrived elves, who seemed to outnumber them quite.

Accepting the aid offered to her, and inquiring at the newly arrived elves that she is yet to get a good look at.

_________________
Name: Ladry (female)
Class: Mage (Pyromancer)
Equipment: Staff, longsword, dagger, 20 gold, insignia ring.
Skills: Power of Aqshy (2), defensive figthing
WS4, S2, T3, D4, I6.


Sat Nov 08, 2014 8:07 am
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The muscular corsair looked confused but only for the shortest while.
"Hey, you have too much attitude for someone as weak as you are," he barked at Gilvaad. "Your higher cause will not help you if I decide to crush your bones right here so save your threats for some dirty whore."
He stretched his fist knuckles in a menacing gesture and continued:
"Same ship, same captain, same orders. Even you should understand this. If you want to be on your own then run off and take on a castle on our own. Maybe we won't waste shots on you."

Corsair still making life difficult to Gilvaad. It should not be that hard to get rid of him but it will take a bit more effort.

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Mon Nov 10, 2014 9:42 pm
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Searinox replied to Ladrys smart remark with a small smile.

"Who are those people, and what are they doing here? I did not really hear the introductions properly..."
Searinox turned to face the group and gave a small explanation "You see the elf with the Cold One on his shield? That appears to be Hereny, of House Mazier. So as long as he doesn't turn on us he should be a great help." His eyes then fell on the Sorceress with a small amount of scorn in them "And that wench over there is named Shyamal, apparently she just finished her 'studies'... or something along those lines."
He turned to the two mercenaries "Kirvaleth! Darven! I wondered where you where, you missed the best part! What happened?" he said with a grin on his face. As he said this though in the distance he heard that someone from the Tempestous had already tried to loot something. Searinox signed that he would talk to them later and went to inspect his kill more closely before others would.

As he was looking through the humans pockets a corsair with a face he did not recognize appeared next to him. Was he from the Tempestous making sure he didn't keep anything important from them? or was he simply from the Hungry Gaze and Searinox just hadn't noticed him until now? Either way it got on his nerves.

“Just observing if there are some letters,” the corsair said as he shrugged.
"Well that's just dandy then, afraid I'm going to hide them for some nefarious plan?" Searinox sighed "Don't worry, if i find anything 'readable', for as far as those human doodles are readable, I'll hand em over to my superior for the information within to be shared."
He then continued to search the body, without any hindrance from the corsair that, whilst still looking over his shoulder, wasn't doing anything else.

From the hatted man's clothing Searinox was able to deduce that he was indeed a very wealthy man. All the clothing was made to fit perfectly and even back in Naggaroth that wasn't something everyone could afford easily. Yet other then the fine clothing he didn't have much on him, a few gold coins and a flimsy and girly golden bracelet. 'Strange trinket for such a noble to wear, doubt I could catch any money for it...' he laughed a little 'Maybe some wench back home will enjoy it.' he put the bracelet into one of the pockets hidden beneath his cloak and the coins in his coin pouch. He then picked up the sabre from the ground, while it was most likely human made it was a beautiful piece of work and would work well for any capable fencer. Searinox's decided to keep it for a while, test it out a bit. If it didn't feel right he could always trade it later. He also took the dagger the human was fighting with, it was a common dagger, one that could be bought anywhere. Yet amongst fellow druchii, especially the new arrivals, one could never have to many blades on his person.
Then his attention fell to the horse, it had wandered closer to the decapitated head of its former rider. Having lowered its head almost as if it was mourning his loss. Searinox's eyes fell on a sack secured to the horses saddle.
Opening it revealed only travel provisions inside, some bread, cheese and a bottle of wine. "Great!" he let out "I could use a snack." he grabbed some of the bread out and bit a chunk out of it. It was old and slightly stale but it still tasted good. Looking back in the bag again he thought he felt something inside, and sure he did. Inside was a Lyre, a cheap and common one, but a Lyre nonetheless. He started to chuckle, 'Caraoc is gonna love this... though I don't know about the rest of the crew.'

He then untied the saddle from the horse and took it with him. Still eating from the bread he turned to the corsair that was still watching him. "See? Nothing of importance, though if you want to help yourself to his clothing help yourself." He picked up the bloodied hat from the ground and tossed it towards the corsair.

He then looked around him to see if any assistance was needed, in the distance he saw the higher ups talking to each other, better to avoid them in case someone might recognize him. In the distance he saw Caraoc talking with a member from the other crew, with yet another one getting into a fight. He'll keep an eye on Caraoc should things escalate and hand him his present later then to brighten up his day.
for now he decided it would be best to head back to Ladry and get the story of where Kirvaleth and Darven Kruz had come from.

When he returned he apologized for his sudden leaving and listened to Kirvaleth's and Darven's reply.

looting the corpse
making slight fun of of the corsair that was keeping an eye on him
doing his best to stay away from the higher ups
keeping an eye out for how things go around Caraoc
then returning to Ladry, Kirvaleth and Darven Kruz to converse

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Group 41- Name: Searinox Nagharha - Shade
WS:5 S:3 T:3 D:4 I:4
Equipment: Long sword; Falchion (family heirloom), Very Good Sabre, Short sword, Dagger, Throwing Dagger (4) SeaDragon Cloak, Chain
Inventory: 30 gold (214 still to be paid), Silver Bracelet, several flagons: 1x Strength potion, 3x Courage potion, 3x Healing Potion.
Skills: Two Weapon Fighting, Acrobatics, Basic Stealth


Tue Nov 11, 2014 8:01 pm
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"Hey, you have too much attitude for someone as weak as you are," he barked at Gilvaad. "Your higher cause will not help you if I decide to crush your bones right here so save your threats for some dirty whore."

The Corsair was not backing down, and starting to get threatening.

"Same ship, same captain, same orders. Even you should understand this. If you want to be on your own then run off and take on a castle on our own. Maybe we won't waste shots on you."

Gilvaad, sighed and took a deep breathe, this was now infuriating.

"What exactly do you not understand about; not my ship, not my captain, not my orders?"

"But a castle might be nice though, perhaps I will do just that. Especially as I am obviously so small and weak that I should be able to sneak through the mouse holes"

"Maybe I will find a nice lady rat whore there for me too."

"There was nothing of value here anyway, and I have taken nothing anyone wanted so what exactly is the fuss? Is this really worth you taking the risk that your actions will have no ramifications? "


Maintaining position and trying to reason

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Thu Nov 13, 2014 8:03 pm
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Kruz looked at Searinox and grimaced. "Well, I don't know what happened. We were searching for a good spot for an ambush, it even seemed like we found one and then we heard the sound of battle. So we thought, what the heck, were they seen or are they just so impetuous? But what could have we done? We ran here as fast as we could but try it for yourself, running a mile with all the armour on."

"And there was only one horse there which was claimed by Analya," added Kirvaleth.

"Yes, she said that because it was her who shot the rider it should belong to her. Try to outrun her with armour on some day. We all get the same share, anyway. If she gets beaten a bit maybe she'll learn some humbleness, it would suit her." Darven Kruz grimaced in a disrespectful way.

"Well, humility is not what makes great leaders," disagreed his companion. "I think she might grow into a capable commander one day."

"Whatever," shrugged Kruz. "I just hope she's not getting us killed before she gets there."


***

This time, the bald corsair really backed off slightly, eyeing Gilvaad with disbelief.

"Are you really as naive as you appear or are you just fooling with me?" he wondered. "We are here in the middle of a war, you know. Against humans and sometimes against other Druchii, too. Do you really think you can do as you please in the middle of a fight? Well, we are not in the middle of a fight right now but we might soon be if you steal what is supposed to belong to the others."

He shook his head in disbelief and concluded: "So yes, what the captain says is important. He has an idea what to do, we don't. Do you recognize anyone among the others? He clearly does."

Kruz tells why he missed the fight.
The corsair arguing with Gilvaad backs off somewhat and ceases with threats but stands firmly in his opinion.

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Mon Nov 17, 2014 8:46 am
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Caraoc realized that the looter named Gilvaad was not considered important by the other crew's standards. Certainly not worth to be called milord, anyway.
He owed him a gentle revenge.
The skald cleared his throat with a mouthful from a bottle he had found: Kräuterikörschnapps or whatever.
It inspired him using the very words used by Gilvaad to describe funnily the situation.

"So this small dark and hooded creature wearing a sword is looking for the castle where he will find his rodent princess? How romantic!"
He gave the bottle to Khalek for him to share with Gilvaad and the muscular corsair from the other crew.
A merry song and strong alcohol were the never failing ingredients for easing discussions gone too serious.
He had a giggling tune ready, the verses came out in a nice rythm. He was missing only a harp, but he would do without for this time.
The song came out barely loud enough for the few elfs around to perceive the words.

"Uncle Rat went out to loot - Gilvaad alone, Gilvaad alone
Uncle Rat went out to loot - Gilvaad alone and I!
Uncle Rat went out to hide - Sword and buckle by his side...
Make us make hurry dugging a deal - Gilvaad alone and I!
Lady Mouse will marry him - Gilvaad alone, Gilvaad alone
Lady Mouse will marry him - Gilvaad alone and why?
Lady Mouse will marry him - Ask my Uncle Rat, says she...
Make us make hurry dugging a deal - Gilvaad alone and I!

Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be? - Gilvaad alone, Gilvaad alone
Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be? - Gilvaad alone and by!
Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be? - Up at the top mice's hole entry...
Make us make hurry dugging a deal - Gilvaad alone and I!"


Easing tensions, his own way.

OOC: Altan - Uncle Rat
Vocals (really nice IM0): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THdJoMBqvv4
Lyrics: http://www.metrolyrics.com/uncle-rat-lyrics-altan.html

_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, Book On the boundary between life and death, sunstone, sextant, set of navigational instruments; 24 gold + share + 5 food + 6 alcohol.
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

_________________
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Mon Nov 17, 2014 6:44 pm
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Gilvaad stepped backwards in amazement, was this elf really singing?
To be fair he had some flair and talent and the song an excellent parody of the situation at hand.

"An excellent jest" ,he murmors towards the singing individual and files a note of caution in his mind; this one has a rather twisted and dark sense of humour.

Glancing over to Khalek and the bottle he was offering, he gratefully took hold of the neck and took a swig. It was unlike anything he had tasted before, but not unpleasant.

"This Skald is from the other crew and offering drinks, it would be rude to abuse his hospitality and generosity with further disagreement. Let us agree to disagree here on the rights and wrongs, and I will adhere, for the present, to the your captains' wishes and leave further dead unmolested." , Gilvaad states to the Corsair whilst holding out the bottle.

Offering a drink as anointment and addressing the rather annoying bald corsair

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Fri Nov 21, 2014 3:49 pm
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"Oh no, he's singing again!" lamented Khalek when the first tones of Caraoc's new ballad got to his ears. "By Mathlann, how I' missed this."

The bald corsair cackled a bit and accepted the alcohol that had been offered to him. "On captain Hereny!" he shouted and drunk it all in one gulp. He then nodded to Caraoc thankfully and remarked:

"Well, mister ratman, you can probably keep the sword if this singer says it's his loot and he is giving it to you. Still, you should think about this all a bit, it'll be good for your health."


***

Time was slowly passing. The corsairs from The Hungry Gaze tended to their wounds, took what they wanted from the dead and then mostly just sat down leaning on a tree and tried to rest - though they were always in a group of three at least and they were holding their crossbows ready. The other crew eased down a little as well and their compact formation spread out; they, too, sat down on the ground and some of them even took some food out of their satchels. For some time, the atmosphere was quiet and almost peaceful.

Then, Hereny and Analya returned and gestured to Incaneth and the dark sorceress to join them. They were observed by many inquisitive looks but they did not reveal much; obviously, they were thinking about some difficult matter but they were keepig their voices down. The highborn girl and the two commanders appeared very focused on their discussion; Shyamal seemed somewhat distant from them, often looking away, observing the buzzing corsairs, the singing scald, the fire sorcereess slowly regaining her strength. Analya searched the commander in the presence of the others and indeed, there was a letter they all soon read; then their discussion continued.

It was not long before they wished for more company, though.

"Caraoc?" asked Incaneth politely, walking a few steps towards him and his group. "Would you please be so kind to join us for just a moment? We think your wisdom might be of help to us. Do not worry, we all know you are just a humble scald but we hope you might have heard some legends or rumours."

They were all looking at him now, Hereny mostly indifferent, Shyamal with a slight hint of curiosity. When the corsair joined them, Analya quickly started talking again: "Caraoc, I took the liberty to introduce you beforehand. There seems to be quite a lot going on concerning the heretic margrave we have encountered already. Hildebrand von Trotzenau, a tower engulfed in flames on his coat of arms. We would like to know as much as possible about this man, most of all about his links to magic and forbidden magic in particular. I know you have something that was originally his possession - does it allow you to deduce something?"

The bald corsairs still disagrees but is willing to reason for now.
Caraoc is asked to join the commanders. I hope railroading him to do so is not too out of his character; if it is, let me know and I will edit the post. :)
Just a breather post or two more and we will move on again.

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Wed Nov 26, 2014 4:26 pm
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The moods had becalmed. The astromancer started to wonder whether his talent about Heavens extended to mental atmospheres amongst elven beings.
"Well, mister ratman, you can probably keep the sword if this singer says it's his loot and he is giving it to you." said the bald corsair
after drinking an unreasonable amount of strong alcohol. Better keep him in a happy mood.
A good opportunity to oblige the ratman, which was too good to miss.
"Sure! Now that I'm relieved from one bottle, I can carry one more sword as a personal booty.
Gilvaad, I'm sure you can carry it for me, as a payment for the song I just dedicated to you."

The corsair was referring at the age old tradition that personnal loot was limited to what one corsair could hold confortably with him.

-=-=-

"Caraoc? Would you please be so kind to join us?"
That was Incaneth. The scald was flattered to be asked to participate to a command's meeting.
Such fact would surely impress more his three new comrades than whatever insanity Gilvaad had boasted about an alleged higher cause.

-=-=-

When introduced to the question about Hildebrand, Caraoc understood that he had little choice other than to show his beloved book.
In the rainy night, there was no possibility to read anything, though.
He replied:
"I was the one indeed who found a book, which was well hidden inside a house. I kept the book as my loot. Here it is.
I have read a large part of it. It does not mention anywhere the name of that Man.
It seems to be the relation, by a Human admitted in some Ulthuan covenant of mages, about High Elf magic as perceived through his limited mind.
I did not see magic receipes, only principles.
It certainly has potential to be perceived as heretic by most Humans. Even High Elves would probably regret to have revealed whatsoever small knowledge it might contain to a Human.
The Human owner of that book would know enough to be able to impress simple minds such as Human Lords, with elaborate arcane words that he would not understand himself, and pretend that it would be a source of power.
I had fun with the hoarse aesthetics of some paragraphs, which are so telling about the limitations of those Humans!"


He waited for more questions, hodling firmly the book, concentrating about the question he had just been asked.
He asked in his mind to the book: "What was your relation with your previous owner?"
Would the book reply? You'd never know with such an ancient tome loaded with magic.

Admitting he has the book. Telling the truth, only the truth, all the truth.

OOC:
Hoping that I did recall the content of the book accurately...
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, Book On the boundary between life and death, sunstone, sextant, set of navigational instruments; 24 gold + share + 5 food + 5 alcohol.
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)
(-1 alcohol)

_________________
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Wed Nov 26, 2014 5:46 pm
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"running a mile with all the armour on."
Searinox looked Kurz up and down then chuckled "I'll leave the heavy armour to you guys, it would only weigh me down."
He glanced over his shoulder towards Analya's direction. "Kirvaleth is right, though it's gonna be a cold day in hell before I acknowledge her as such."

He then noticed that they send for Caraoc, 'What do they need the skald for? Is it that book again?' Searinox sighed a little then turned back 'No need to worry I guess... We'll find out sooner or later.'

"Well, let's rest until the captains decide what our next course of action is going to be. I have no doubt we'll be setting out soon again."

Conversing

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PLOG - The House of Corvus
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Group 41- Name: Searinox Nagharha - Shade
WS:5 S:3 T:3 D:4 I:4
Equipment: Long sword; Falchion (family heirloom), Very Good Sabre, Short sword, Dagger, Throwing Dagger (4) SeaDragon Cloak, Chain
Inventory: 30 gold (214 still to be paid), Silver Bracelet, several flagons: 1x Strength potion, 3x Courage potion, 3x Healing Potion.
Skills: Two Weapon Fighting, Acrobatics, Basic Stealth


Wed Dec 03, 2014 8:41 pm
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"Book, what was your relation with your previous owner?"
Caraoc opened his mind and invited the tome to talk to him. It responded slowly but without hesitation, it felt like it was languid from a long sleep but determined to make the connection happen. The magical glow that was characteristic for it and that Caraoc was suppressing in the presence of the other sorceress lit up again, if only in his mind. The other presence in his consciousness grew steadily and suddenly, it was not him who was allowing something else to reside in his thoughts; now his mind was hanging in the middle of something big.

***

There was a large hall, with many pillars, delicately ornamented with a skill almost matching that of elven sculptors. On the walls, paintings of saints and heroes were hanging one next to each other, each man enveloped by light, each conquering a horde of dark twisted creatures or fighting a grotesque demon. In the forefront, an altar stood with offerings of wine and bread and behind it a priest was praying who was trying to match the holy men judging him from the walls; there was no light coming from him, however, and a closer look revealed he was trying to hide fatigue and fear. The cathedral was full of kneeling humans, frightened and desperate, calling to their god over and over again.

"Save us from the plague... Forgive our sins... Show us your eternal mercy... Give peace to our dead and spare the living..."

Among them, a handsome young man was kneeling, a person Caraoc had already seen in another vision, this time clad in a robe of a Shyish acolyte. He was repeating the words mechanically but his thoughts were elsewhere: he was remembering the countless dead that were being buried every day, the exhausted looks of priests, trying in vain to spread hope, the fragility of any life that could be extinguished with just a light touch, the gruesome things he was being taught in the college, the constant threat of inquisition menacing any magic user in the Empire, the life of a noble that was awaiting him, full of scheming and backstabbing. And again and again, despite his best efforts to resist the temptation, he was returning to the strange book he had found just a few days ago in a forgotten tomb hidden in wilderness - the book that was promising the strength to overcome anything.

***

It was late night and Hildebrand was drinking wine with an alchemist bachelor, probably the only person he could have called a friend. Caraoc knew that man as the supernaturally strong craze who was butchering elves with two axes; here, the same scholar was younger and paler and even in his drunkedness, he was retaining some sort of elegance.

"You can't beat him in a sword fight," the alchemist claimed. "You should just run away. Everyone knows you never had the wish to duel him."

"No," answered Hildebrand in a hollow voice. "Word would spread. My vassals would defy me. I don't want to lose my whole heritage and become a pitiful exile just because a single bragging fool."

"Better than using magic during the fight, still," shrugged the alchemist. "And if he dies before dawn you will be under suspicion immediately. You are the death mage after all."

The noble was thinking for a good while, weighing his trust and fear. Then he finally decided.
"I might know a way how to kill him using fire. Or better yet, using the amber magic. Let him be torn to pieces by wild dogs." He curved his lips in a cruel yet beautiful smile. "No one would blame me for that - I am the death mage after all."

His companion looked surprised. "How do you imagine to accomplish that?" he asked.

The mage smiled again. "I know things he doesn't. In fact, I know things almost no one does."

***

The light was even weaker than before; it was not even reaching to the walls of the small chamber they were in. They had only brought a small lamp and they were keeping it covered with a veil; the face of both Hildebrand and his alchemist friend were in shadows and so was the book they carried with them. The third man, however, was right under the cone of light: he was half naked, his pale skin shining in the night, with terrible bites all over his body. He was lying motionless on a table and his empty eyes were gazing into the void. The alchemist was cutting in the dead body, baring entrails and drawing them carefully while his companion was studying the book.

"I'm all done," said the smaller man finally and straightened his back. "He's all yours."

Hildebrand nodded shortly and made a step forwards, the book opened, and met the unchanging gaze of the corpse with his own cold and fiery eyes. "Time to pay for your insults," he explained and then he switched to some strange tongue where desert emptiness was pronounced in place of vowels and heavy monuments instead of consonants. The air filled with raw power, ancient and eternal, similar to the nature of the book itself, and despite they were still in a small morgue illuminated by a single candle their surroundings almost appeared as a glorious temple from times long past where marble statues would observe them with a stern gaze and the scent of incense would fill their lungs.

Then, the hollow unblinking eyes moved away humbly and the corpse slowly rose, stood up before the enchanter and remained still again.

Hildebrandt laughed in triumph and observed his work with satisfaction. "You will claw on your face until all skin is torn down," he ordered. "Then, you will go to the cathedral and kill all priests inside." Turning to his companion, he added: "Come, my friend. Our task here is done."

"The first priest or paladin is going to burn him down," remarked the alchemist. The corpse was standing where they left it, legs and torso were without any motion and only the hands were tearing long stripes of skin from its face.

"Of course," answered Hildebrand. "I hope it will really hurt. Though now that I think about it this kind of punishment is probably too mild for him. I was so excited this actually works that I let myself get carried away."

The scene begun to fade but the alchemist's response coming from a mist was still clear: "It is almost terrifying, though. I wonder what else could you do to your enemies now that the book is in your possession?"


***

An explosion of light, a waterfall of icy water dropping on his head and suddenly, Caraoc was in his body again, a bit confused at first, head aching somewhat from waking unexpectedly.

"I hope someone can explain this to me," Hereny grumbled to no one in particular. It seemed that from the four higher ranked elves he was the one feeling the most uneasy about all this changes.

“But of course,” smiled Shyamal in his direction. Turning to Caraoc, she then said: "It seemed the book might have been trying to seize control over you. I intervened right away just to be sure. My apologies if this interruption was somewhat unpleasant. Now, has something interesting occurred?"

Caraoc has a vision about the book's previous owner which is forcefully interrupted by Shyamal.

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The Lost Colony defenders - Rowena's painting log

Alternative Armies - because we can build any army without GW!


Sat Dec 06, 2014 8:30 pm
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Corsair
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Suddenly, the scald fell overboard and found himself swimming frantically towards the surface, struggling for fresh air...
but no, he was sill on solid ground, the wall of water which had sumerged him was nothing more than the chilly rain.

The eerie vision had been brutally interrupted. The wet scald was sitting on the muddy grass, in the midst of the four mocking noblemen.
Confused and ashamed, the scald grabbed his beloved book against his chest and tried to squeeze the water away. Fortunately, the covering clothes were still in position.

Shyamal asked: "It seemed the book might have been trying to seize control over you. I intervened right away just to be sure."
So that was it? The book had a stronger personnality than the scald? Shortly after having felt to Ghur influences, Caraoc began to feel that his multiple schizophreny was populating tad densely his mind.
She resumed: "My apologies if this interruption was somewhat unpleasant. Now, has something interesting occurred?"

The scald understood the patronizing in the sorceress' apologies, but had to cope with it. The most revenge he could take was to slightly delay his answer.
"Er... well... I guess I need to thank you with a reply, Milady."
He stood up and tapped the book.
"Erm... as you asked whether the mere possession of that item allowed me to deduce something, this is what I tried.
I used my scald affinity with tales to let the book inspire an answer."


He briefly closed his eyes, trying to rememorate.
"I had a vision. The kind of vision with a meaning, whichever it is."

He paused, sure to have grabbed the attention of them all, including the high sorceress who nearly forgot for one second her detached attitude.
"A vision of Hildebrand the Death Mage. He had found the book in a tomb.
He... he managed to raise a man from the dead and make him obey his orders.
He had an acolyte... the alchemist! That's where I found the book."


Then he looked at the sorceress.
"And then the vision was made to end.
I'm not sure I can make a decent saga from that tale, yet."


Telling most of what he had seen.
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Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, Book On the boundary between life and death, sunstone, sextant, set of navigational instruments; 24 gold + share + 5 food + 5 alcohol.
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)
(-1 alcohol)

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Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Thu Dec 11, 2014 7:56 pm
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After Caraoc replied, a short silence took over.

"Can we trust this?" asked Hereny his fellow commanders, seemingly more out of caution than real mistrust.

"I think so," confirmed Shyamal. "The book surely seems capable of inspiring this kind of vision. In both the scald and the margrave."

"So he is a necromancer after all," said the older elf for himself. Turning to Analya, he asked: "This is what you were hoping for, right?"

The noble daughter slowly nodded, deeply in thoughts. "It indeed is. Time to get to work."

She allowed herself one more moment of silence and then reversed back to her strong commanding presence.

"Caraoc, thank you for you cooperation. This would be all. You should probably make a copy of the book if the text amuses you as much as you say, though. I have a feeling it could sell well.

Captain, first officer, I suggest to split the gold the tax collector was carrying in halves, one for the Hungry Gaze, the other to the Tempestous. This way, the corsairs of captain Snakeskin get a bigger share as they bled in a fight but your men and your liege, captain Hereny, are going to get a good amount as well.

After the gold is loaded our ships are going to part ways but not immediately. Incaneth, there is something I would like to say to captain Snakeskin and the whole crew of the Hungry Gaze - I hope it would not inconvenience you to give me a few moments of your time?"


Soon, as there were no serious protestations, the commanders parted, each about to instruct his crew. Elves started to buzz around again, carefully observed by both Incaneth and Hereny, counting the gold, moving it to various satchels and chests, examining the remains of the hellblaster and boxes with ammunition. One found one more bottle of some kind and shared it with a few companions, another was showing his comrade a long thin knife he looted from a dead human, third threw some kind of a picture to the ground in lack of interest.

***

Gilvaad was standing somewhat distant from the fray, getting in the way of no one, observing silently what was going on around him. Then he noticed the strange lady coming to him that made even captain Hereny to bow. For the first time, he had the opportunity to look at her closer. Her look was as confusing as her recent actions – she could well be a noble daughter given her proudness and inquisitive eyes but on the other hand, her clothes was very simple and had already known a better time, her naked arms were stained with mud and she was carrying nothing of value except her rapier – as far as he was able to see at least. She was looking as a warrior that had spent several montsh in the field or on a ship without having any special luxury but then again, what real warrior would let her hair freely flow in the air during a fight?

“You are Gilvaad, right?” she asked without introducing herself. She was speaking quickly and firmly but very clearly at the same time. “Captain Hereny recommended you to me as an expert in stealth and a good marksman. Furthermore, he expressed that while he has no complains against you he would be willing to release you from your contract should I find a task where your skills would be put to a more extensive use than under his command. Therefore I want to ask you what kind of experience do you actually have with regards to infiltration missions?”

Gold gets divided, looting almost comes to the end. The booty will then be carriet to the ships. The next big mod post will happen on the board again.
You have several hours of free time now so if you want to do something, this is the right time. You can even write about more things at once that are happening at different times. :) I might throw in some more input later in an edit, for now I wanted to push the story forwards a bit at least.

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The Lost Colony defenders - Rowena's painting log

Alternative Armies - because we can build any army without GW!


Mon Dec 15, 2014 9:47 pm
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Miscast into the Warp
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Location: Investigating Mantica
Having watched the Caroc and Corsairs wander off, Gilvaad found himself somewhat isolated. Taking the time to look around he drew a few deep breathes and berrated himself for getting involved in what was quite frankly a ridiculous situation over a second rate human sword. Still no one had believed him about the greater powers he served, possibly a good thing really. His benefactors may undoubtedly not take kindly to failure.

The downtime had however given him time to locate his target, they were gathered with a group of other Druchii who were seemingly giving aid, so deciding patience was the best course of action he scoured the battle field for other opportunities for material gain, perhaps this time he might be able to be a little more discreet.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the noble woman approaching, she didn’t really look much, but knowing looks and accoutrements can be very decieving, choose to believe she was everything her movements suggested her to be.

“You are Gilvaad, right? Captain Hereny recommended you to me as an expert in stealth and a good marksman. Furthermore, he expressed that while he has no complaints against you, he would be willing to release you from your contract should I find a task where your skills would be put to a more extensive use than under his command. Therefore I want to ask you what kind of experience do you actually have with regards to infiltration missions?”

The question was direct and took Gilvaad a little by surprise. Pausing for a few moments, he thought to himself, this is almost too good to be true. This could solve several problems he was pondering in one swift twist of fate. Now, how to answer this question with out implicating himself as an assassin with no temple remit.

“Experience; well I have untaken a number of successful espionage missions for benefactors whom I would prefer to remain nameless for the moment, I have no desire to find myself a target, due to a misplaced word to the wrong person. My forte lies in infiltration, data gathering and if necessary immediate and long term risk elimination” , then taking a breath before continuing, “What terms are you potentially offering me here?”

Trying to get a new job and on to the ship.

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My Kings of War Plog - Twilight Kin / Nightstalkers


Tue Dec 23, 2014 11:41 am
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