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Post by solar on Oct 18, 2008 9:20:54 GMT
Having finished her meal and feeling that she had rested long enough Tyreana was ready to get back to her task at hand. She had come to Calendron in search of the malevolent solders, that with out a doubt in her mind had been responsible for the chaos and looting in the peaceful cities of Lianarr and Fairhaven. For they were the only strangers that had been seen prier to the incident acting suspiciously.
Tyreana feeling confused and angery not being able to comprehend what possible reason they had for there actions, had resolved to stop them from causing any more harm, that is if she could find them.
As Tyreana made her way over to the Innkeeper, feeling confidant that today she would uncover more information to help in her task, a tall dark hair man wearing white robes entered the Inn. After a brief encounter with another patron he approached the Innkeeper. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, she decided to take a closer look at a tapestry hanging nearby, coincidentally being able to over hear them. Tyreana could not believe her good fortune, not only had she gained new information but a possible ally as well.
Peering over her shoulder just in time to see him leaving, panicking for a moment she quickly followed after “pardon me sir, If I may have a word with you" pausing briefly "I believe we share a comon goal, regarding certain solders." Tyreana felt a little uneasy not sure how he would react to her possible eavesdroping.
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Post by Azriel on Oct 19, 2008 0:36:04 GMT
Azriel hesitated in the midst of his swift gait, his ivory robes billowing as inertia caused the golden hem to sway. Azriel deliberately whirled on his heel, regarding his new guest with a bewildered expression. The Summoner did not acknowledge whether his surprise was from the mention of the vindictive soldiers, or how this wood elf addressed him so politely. ‘With a ‘sir’, no less!’ Azriel silently mused, his trust vulnerable as he immediately fancied this stranger.
Azriel owned a terribly weak guard, his conviction and reliance dependent on the level of respect he received. In his lifetime, Azriel had experienced a sad existence of loneliness, his ostracization a direct result of his dreadful power. No one dared to fashion a friendship, for they believed their lives to be in jeopardy. Azriel had developed a nullified relationship with society, preferring to ignore their whinging as they were ignorant. Azriel admitted his summoning rituals were frightening, for they possessed a sinister, devilish origin. In all honesty, Azriel was supposed to be donning a black robe, not a white one. Azriel freely chose to represent that colour for several reasons, mainly to demonstrate his integrity. Azriel simply desired acceptance, and nothing else.
Azriel resumed his focus, regarding his new companion with an optimistic expression. He gracefully bowed, displaying his mannerisms.
“I am delighted to hear that we share a strong sense of justice.” Azriel’s red eyes glistened like rubies, the morning sunlight accentuating the red’s depth. Azriel seized this opportune moment to view his guest. She wore woodsman attire, appearing to be very experienced in the wilderness. Azriel had witnessed several wood elves in his travels, and recognized the light tresses and fair complexion. Azriel was mesmerized by the elf’s eyes, each possessing a different orb of colour; one was sky blue, the other a chocolate brown.
“I am pursuing the felons,” Azriel added quietly, “I believe they entered the eastern forest.” Azriel gestured for the wood elf to accompany him, the man walking slowly as not to outpace his smaller companion.
“My name is Azriel Dragoş,” Azriel greeted with a smile, “I am only chasing these soldiers because I want to protect the citizens of Calendrune. I’m traditional, you see. If I may ask, what is your name? Why are you pursuing these soldiers?”
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Post by solar on Oct 21, 2008 7:34:12 GMT
Tyreana acknowledge Azrial’s kind invitation with a nod, adjusted the shoulder strap holding her sword and proceeded to follow him.
Despite his pleasant demeanour she still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, had she made the right decision to put her trust not to mention her very life in the hands of a stranger, then her thoughts shifted, but on the other hand wasn’t Azrial doing the same.
Having been slightly comforted by this notion, Tyreana shifted her gaze to her new traveling companion with a smile addressed his inquiries in a peaceful yet serious manner.
"My name is Tyreana Meadowlark as for my motives regarding the soldiers there not so different from yours, to prevent them from causing any more turmoil to the people, then they have already caused in my home realm of Lianarr" Tyreana looking away took a deep breath, to help subside the anger that had crept over her as she recalled that horrible day. She then continued with a more upbeat tone "I'am happy to have met you Aziel, and I hope we can get that justice you spoke of."
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Post by Azriel on Oct 27, 2008 0:06:09 GMT
Azriel observed the malicious ire that brewed in the depths of Tyreana’s soul, her expression dissolving into a hollow smile once the anger dimmed. It was obvious that these soldiers were only a fraction of the truth, a speck of grain in the burlap sac. ‘The militants’ tyranny is olden, hmm?’ Azriel privately mused, glimpsing upon the wood elf in mild interest, ‘this is no arbitrary behaviour. This incident had been decided by a calculative hand, and I can tell it is not of hierarchy lineage. An influential sorcerer is controlling these soldiers, it is evident in their spiteful eyes. I will discover the truth, and I will end this game and expose the true mastermind.’ Azriel concluded his internal monologue, regarding Tyreana whom had indulged in a tranquil, perhaps encumbering silence.
“I believe we should purchase basic supplies,” Azriel advised, “I have heard that the eastern forest is dangerously complex, with intricate trails that mimic a dungeon labyrinth. My contribution is this satchel,” the Summoner presented said leather pouch, “it only contains medicinal supplies and ingredients. I have nothing else that will be of use.” Azriel’s heart was uplifted into a light euphoria, incapable of recalling the last time he had conversed with a stranger so openly. Despite such optimism bestowed to him, Azriel continually hoarded the insecurities to his heart, his core protected by the ancient barrier he had fashioned there years before. Azriel truly believed he would never recover from the exile, and would unfairly treat his existence like a pathetic pup that no one cared for.
Azriel caught a glimpse of a shadow flicker across his vision, alerting his senses instantly. Calendrune’s square appeared to be bustling with early morning activity, the townsfolk strolling the avenues with children or carriages. Azriel frowned, swearing he had seen a sinister silhouette. ‘It is my wild imagination, I suppose.’ Azriel assumed, his high spirits returning. Azriel jauntily lead the way, escorting Tyreana to the local shops.
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A wolfish smile graced the lips of a shadowed figure, his robed silhouette invisible as he hid in the alley. This game of espionage no longer served a valid purpose, for the Summoner was being lured as planned. A wood elf had joined his entourage, yet it proved to be a minor inconvenience. After all, his Master can destroy such a pretty creature with ease.
“Excellent, the strategy is playing perfectly to my Master’s wish. He will be pleased…”
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StoryTeller
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Post by StoryTeller on Oct 28, 2008 3:22:17 GMT
The meeting went well with the contact he was expecting. Initially caught off guard by his sudden appearance, Larsen bolted in surprise but once the card was slid towards him, the card that presented the owner of it as a member of his guild - he was no longer leery. Rather, he was thankful for at first he thought perhaps his own life was contracted last night when the sorcerer in the inn showed up and began devouring soldiers with magic bugs and such.
The message was clear, follow the target and wait, a message will arrive with details on how to proceed.
It was now later in the day and he had been following them for hours. They seemed to get along well these two... he thought. Perhaps an alliance to thwart the king? Or maybe here to overtake the guild? Which ever, it mattered not. His job was to do as he was told and he always did it well. The pay was always reward enough. He continued on with the surveillance and blended well and deep into the crowds.
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Post by Azriel on Nov 5, 2008 18:28:38 GMT
Azriel pranced from the veranda with a frivolous gait, the shopkeeper bidding the Summoner an enthusiastic farewell. Azriel calculated their checklist for missing items, rummaging through the second satchel fervently. Once everything was accounted for, the man delivered an affirmative dip of his chin. Azriel glimpsed to Tyreana, offering a pleasant smile.
“Good news!” Azriel chirped, “We have acquired the necessary items, and are prepared for our journey. The eastern forest is crawling with bandits and vagabonds, so we must pay attention. Lord knows I do not,” Azriel chuckled shyly, “I am not impervious to ambush.” Guising his impending humility with a light-hearted laugh, the man shouldered the supply satchel further into the crook of his neck. The burden suddenly felt heavier, whether from his lack of strength or from his developing embarrassment, he was uncertain.
The Summoner lured his entourage into the depths of the avenue, the townsfolk gradually thinning out to a few stablemen and blacksmiths. Calendrune’s perimeter lay quietly in the distance, the whispering wind beckoning the traveling pair to enter at their own expense. Azriel swallowed his pride roughly, the jagged edges of panic snaring in his throat. Courage only bestowed its services when Azriel was cornered, for he was not one to barge into anything reckless. He nervously glanced to Tyreana, challenging his timidity to blossom into braveness – farce or otherwise. If anything, he needed to radiate a positive, courageous aura to display his readiness.
“Let’s go.”
Azriel assumed the leader position, fishing out his trusted Merlin dagger with a swift gesture. While not as efficient as a machete, his weapon was capable of hacking and slicing through dense foliage. Azriel’s dagger abruptly snagged a stubborn vine, the Summoner violently trashing in his futile throes. Azriel sheepishly grinned, his cheekbones blossoming with a pink tinge. ‘This is humiliating…’ Azriel groaned inwardly, finally untangling the curved blade.
“I’m sorry – ”
An abrupt thunderclap interrupted his speech, roaring into the chambers of the wilderness. The deafening bang shrouded both Tyreana and Azriel in a crashing tsunami of sound, a rush of wind lashing against their bodies. ‘What on earth - ?!’ Azriel cursed, clawing his path through a thorny thicket. He emerged into a wide clearing, the grass being pelted with a hurricane. Azriel gawked at an orb of light hovering in the centre of the meadow, its vortex spitting out the fierce gale. It expanded in size, growing to a radius of six feet before exploding into nothingness. Azriel coughed, expelling dust.
“Welcome, Azriel.”
Azriel hysterically inclined his gaze, focusing on the source of the eerily spiteful voice. An elderly being was floating in the midst of the dying breeze, his black robes billowing as he hovered with his arms outstretched. A lengthy white beard slithered around his torso like a boa, flailing in the wind. His eyes were a dazzling violet, brewing with a glowing magic. Azriel acknowledged that this man was a wizard – a Dark one.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Azriel roared, wordlessly motioning for Tyreana to hide. The Dark Wizard simpered, his jeering smile irking Azriel.
“I am Neros,” he said icily, his frosty smile directed at Azriel, “and I want your power.” Neros furled his fist, jerking it upwards as a rumbling sounded beneath Azriel’s feet. The Summoner did his best to keep balance, glaring at the Dark Wizard. A barrage of earthen spikes lunged at Azriel, pinning the Summoner to a massive oak. The spikes ironically missed his body, merely holding him at bay rather than killing him. Neros cackled as he conducted with his hands, controlling the Merlin blade to float by itself. Azriel bit down a cry as the dagger slit his wrist, the blood trickling over his tattoo. Neros finally landed on the ground, standing directly in front of the Summoner.
“Summon the Undead Dragon.” Neros barked, his icy demand earning a scowl.
“Never!” Azriel screamed, struggling against the spires. Neros frowned, disliking this display of insubordination. Azriel was withholding his need to summon, keeping himself distracted.
“I think I deserve an explanation,” Azriel growled, “After all, you did trap me.” Neros snorted arrogantly, idly dismissing the inquiry.
“I desire the magnitude of your summoning abilities,” Neros replied, “you have no idea how intense your power truly is. I can help you control these unruly creatures, these unintelligent beasts. I can teach you how to harness this supremacy. If you join me – ”
“Shut up,” Azriel cut in rudely, “I will never join you.” Neros sneered, snatching Azriel’s throat with gnarled fingers.
“Then I will make you.”
Azriel screamed as his blood burned with a harsh tingling sensation, his tattoo glowing red. Neros was forcibly summoning the Undead Dragon through his magic, controlling the incantation. A swirling portal ripped itself apart in the middle of the meadow, a slimy tongue darting from the black vortex. ‘Damn! I cannot control the Undead Dragon, and neither can Neros. Why is his summoning it? It will destroy everything!’ Azriel concentrated, focusing on summoning his loyal charges. Neros raised his eyebrow suspiciously, feeling the shift in focus. He tightened his grip.
“It is useless, boy! My business will never die. I can control whomever I choose – including the soldiers, to do my bidding. I used them to lure you to me, for they are nothing but pawns. I have you in my grasp, and I will manipulate your powers to gain supremacy! I will rule this realm as intended! Nothing can st – ” Neros was brutally tackled by three wolves, their snarling fangs biting into the Dark Wizard’s arms and dragging him to the earth. With the influence gone, Azriel closed the portal. Neros kicked against the wolves, casting fire spells furiously.
"Goethama Deveth!"
Neros vanished into oblivion, teleporting from the forest. The earthen spikes receded, liberating Azriel. The Summoner collapsed to the ground, drained of his energy. The wolves whimpered, licking their master’s hand and nuzzling his face. They would not desert him until he awakened.
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StoryTeller
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Post by StoryTeller on Nov 10, 2008 5:54:09 GMT
"Whoa..." Larsen let out as he finally breathed. "That was the most intense thing I have ever seen. Holy crap. I need to let someone know about this. But who"? He reasoned inwardly.
Still hiding deep in the foliage but with enough of a vantage point to have seen the fracas that just ensued, he was frozen in his place by amazement and fear simultaneously. "I sure as the nine hells hope that I'm not to kill this one. I think something larger than considered is at work here and for the first time... I don't feel all that confident I could get the job done". He continued to think. He didn't realize he had been doing it aloud until the snap of the twig behind him.
Larsen spun about, his once empty hands now filled with razor sharp curved dagger's, the blades a slim foot long and slightly curved. It was too late, as his eyes focused on the target, the but of a war hammer thudded into his forehead and everything else went black. The trio of short and stocky men, silently lifted Larsen up and one of them tossed him limply over his very broad and powerful shoulder. As quietly as they came, they disappeared. The muted green's and soft reds of the forest mixing well with the hair and clothing they wore.
Larsen woke and began to focus his eyes. His head felt like it weighed as much as a bugbears baby and the taste in his mouth matched the image. He looked around and began to see shapes. Humanoid shapes. "Ah... welcome little one" came a deep rumbling voice. He blinked back the fog and gained his focus. He was in a cell. The light was very dim, the result of the soft glow of light creeping its way from the hallway portcullis down the corridor and around the bend out of sight. In the cell with him were several beings. Most appeared dead save one, the one who had spoken. There, tied to the wall with thick cords of rope was the largest man he had ever seen. His hair was an orange or a red hue and his body was littered with strange yet appealing markings. In his core was a red ruby which appeared to be a part of him. The stone was no larger than a common gold coin and Larsen wondered how on earth had this man had managed to maintain ownership of such a treasure. "My name is Mika, I am pleased to make your acquaintance". His heavy bass of a voice rumbled.
"Where am I"? Larsens asked. "Where? Hahahahaha" his booming laughter echoed down the corridor. "Where indeed my little friend. We, from what I can gather are in a cell, somewhere deep beneath some structure". Mika teased with an indignant tone. "You have been here for 3 days and just now come back to our world". "THREE DAYS"? Larsen said, shocked. "Are we still in Calendrune"? He continued to grill the other. "Easy now my friend... easy. Soon the gaurds will be in and you must be cautious about what you say or do for this group... well, they have tempers" Mika said, making a point to nod to the other bodies strewn about. Only now did Larsen notice each was not breathing and each seemed to have fatal injuries to the head and face. Beaten.
Larsen nodded in acknowledgment and leaned back to rest. He was still not entirely ready to jump to his feet and make a big and dramatic effort towards escape. No, instead, he chose to lay back in the dirty straw and let exhaustion take him away once again. Mika smiled grimly knowing full well what laid before them both in the days ahead.
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Post by solar on Nov 13, 2008 11:21:20 GMT
Despite Tyreana’s body trembling and her ears ringing from the blast, she chased after Azriel entering a clearing a few paces behind.
Tyreana felt completely helpless, the strong evil power emitting from the wizard that hovered before them was unlike anything she hade ever encountered. Peering at Azriel for guidance not knowing how to proceed, only to see that his gaze was fixated on the wizard, then noticing his hand gesturing signalling her to flee. Out of fear, Tyreana did as he wished and made haste back to edge of the clearing. Just as she hade taken cover there was a loud thud, trembling Tyreana slowly peeked over the bushes quickly spotting the source, Azriel had been pined to a tree only a few feet from were she was hiding. Unable to turn a way or take any action to help him, she unwillingly witnessed the torment that the wizard continued to afflict on him.
“ I cant take much more of this and neither can Azriel” she thought grimly, then with out warning three wolves appeared attacking the evil wizard who then vanished in to thin air. Tyreana could not begin to comprehend everything she had seen, but none the less felt a tremendous wave of relief her fear subsiding now that the ordeal had ended.
Tyreana ran over to Azrile who’s body lay motionless on the ground, the wolves backing away a few paces to give her some room as she knelt beside him. “Ah good he’s still breathing” she thought to her self, removing her cloak and rolling it up placed it under his head then proceeded to tend to the wound on his wrist applying healing ointmant and a bandage. All she could now was wait till he awoke.
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Post by Azriel on Nov 17, 2008 1:29:50 GMT
The afternoon sunlight sifted through the canopy like flour in a sieve, the chequered light kissing Azriel’s blanched face. The Summoner had succumbed to a dire oblivion, having been unconscious for three agonizing hours. Azriel’s wolves had resorted to curling against his lofty stature, resting their muzzles on their paws. One of the wolves nipped Azriel’s ear, gently tugging the lobe to awaken its master. Azriel abruptly roused from his coma, owlishly blinking in bewilderment. Azriel hissed at the ache, gingerly soothing his ear. He glimpsed to his wolves, each one responding with a crestfallen whine. Azriel warmly chuckled, scratching behind their ears.
“Thank you.” The wolves happily growled, their tongues lolling about. The canines returned to the depths of the wilderness, leaving Azriel until they were needed again. Azriel glimpsed to his surroundings, gathering himself into an unsteady stance. Tyreana was knelt on the earth, the medicinal satchel opened and rummaged through. Azriel recalled his battle with Neros. ‘I wouldn’t call it a battle, per say; more like a beat down.’ Azriel silently laughed, claiming a spot next to the wood elf. He glimpsed directly into her eyes, wishing to demonstrate his seriousness.
“I do not know about you, yet I do not want to be enslaved to a lunatic wizard – a Dark one, at that.” Azriel expelled a frustrated breath, combing through his unkempt mane. Neros was determined to manipulate this realm to his desires, and it was clear that he would use anything to achieve that nightmare. Azriel cast his face in shadow, suddenly feeling ashamed. He acknowledged that he was always treated as a man who was born of darkness. Azriel readily forgave society, because they were ignorant. When a Dark Wizard sought his power, and yearned for its evil properties – that made Azriel feel as though he was evil. Azriel glared at the wilderness, trying to see where Neros might have travelled.
“We need to ensure Neros does not achieve his reign of tyranny. Wizards are insanely powerful, and terribly influential beings. Neros is of a legendary status, I am positive. I do not know much of Dark Wizards and their weaknesses. If only I could find a library, I would surely obtain the information we need. Nevertheless, we need to find Neros first. Do you know a tracking spell? Ah, I am too quick to judge,” Azriel chuckled apologetically, “I believe wood elves have excellent tracking abilities. I’m counting on you to locate Neros. We’ll decide what to do then.”
Azriel had hoped to recruit the elf while they were in Calendrune, or even the svirfneblin. It had been a valiant effort, alas futile - Azriel had frightened them away. Azriel challenged himself to be positive; perhaps others would join their group to fight for the cause. Azriel had to be realistic; as much as he would love to slay Neros by himself, they needed help.
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