Post by K Man on Aug 24, 2004 12:01:43 GMT -5
Garor, Newt, Hero, Callian, Caelith and Angelus - Camir nods, gesturing to the outdoors again.
"To Master Theld's then."
The young soldier escorts you all outside and through the streets of Morten. The small mining town seems strange when compared to the avenues of Ravenshead that are crowded with filthy refugees from all over the Blackwing Kindgom. This town is devoid of the plagues of war; the sick, the dying and the distraught. Morten seems very much the normal town, complete with running children and elderly sitting calmly on porches watching the 'newcomers'.
It is apparent that Sturmguard has kept much of the war from this small town and intends to do so until he can no longer do so.
Camir walks briskly, nodding here and there, administering orders to men that he passes ans keeping an orderly pace about the city. He pauses before a large, multi-level house on the edge of town.
"This is it, I must warn you, Master Theld can be a bit...abrasive..."
With the verbal warning, Camir raps on the door. Moments later, after a loud bang and a series of curses in dwarven, a stout member of the race throws the door open. He is scornful, face twisted into a sour look that does little to add hopes for a good conversation. His white hair is pulled tightly back and his garb dirty and oily.
"What is it Camir? Any leads?"
"No Master Theld, however..."
"Figures, you couldn't find the moon were it not hanging in the sky."
"HOWEVER!" Camir overrides the sour dwarf with volume. "These are ambassadors of Sturmguard and have offered to find your missing pieces in exchange for use of your machine."
The dwarf looks you over, his face souring even more. He reluctantly opens the doors further and motions for you to enter. Behind the dwarf, you can see what looks like nothing less than a machinists' nightmare. Gears, sprockets, wires, loops and countless cogs appear to be thrown together in a mish-mash statue that serves no purpose.
Theld moves away from the door, kicking more metal pieces on the floor as he walks away, mumbling about more 'nosy people'.
Camir sighs.
"I apologize for his brash behaviour. He has been most sour since the theft."
"I leave you now so that I am not in neglect of my duties. Should you need me, find the nearest guard and simply request my presence."
"Is there anything you need before I leave?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - Girud, stepping outside you do spot a wagon that is of the right size and bulk to carry the large chunk of crystal...however, its missing its right wheel.
There are enough polearms and cloth about to manufacture a stretcher, and that seems to be the consensus of the elves. They begin to scour the grounds quickly, taking ropes and cloth, fashioning a large platform to carry the crystal.
Within the hour, the stretcher is made and the crystal rolled atop it. Ensuring that every carrier touches the crystal, it is easy to hold the bulk of the artifact. Irinys looks to the small goblin.
"Or fate is in your hands little one."
Mordrock smiles with glee, looking directly at Krysta.
"If fate mean what on her chest, then Mordrock happy!"
Literally skipping, the small goblin makes his way to the cave entrance and darts into the woods beyond.
{I need to know who is were. Carrying? Scouting? Or simply walking along?}
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yuri, Romar and Sehanine - The dwarves take a few seconds to mutter responses to your questions.
"We know ye be allies friend, not many in these times would spare us the traiterous results of a sneak attack. With Sturmguard you say? We shall discuss that at length shortly."
"Ye are about to witness the reason 'The Master' has been so successful in battle..."
The dwarves words hang in the air like a mold, clinging to the fears of your pounding heart. You watch, with morbid curiousity as the blood from the wounds ceases to flow, but the body begins to move.
The mark of 'The Master' pulses and glows, the body shuddering as though affected by convulsions.
The dwarves before you begin to mutter. It is apparent they are all clerics and you silently thank the fates that you are about the fight undead with them at your back.
The first orc rises to his feet, the body jerking around as it is re-animated.
{Romar, Readied Action. Attack Roll = 19}
An arrow, loosed by the ranger whizzes past the group and strikes the chest of the orc, dead center. {Damage roll = 8}
It does little... [undead orc 1 slightly wounded.]
The body barely moves as its companions stand upright. You fear that they have been brought back...more powerful than before.
'The Master' is truly a commander of the dead...
{Initiative: Yuri, Romar and the Dwarves, Sehanine, Orcs}
The dwarf takes a second to yell.
"Unless ye are immune to fire, stay away from them."
With the chanting and communing of the dwarves, you wonder what powers they will summon.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
"To Master Theld's then."
The young soldier escorts you all outside and through the streets of Morten. The small mining town seems strange when compared to the avenues of Ravenshead that are crowded with filthy refugees from all over the Blackwing Kindgom. This town is devoid of the plagues of war; the sick, the dying and the distraught. Morten seems very much the normal town, complete with running children and elderly sitting calmly on porches watching the 'newcomers'.
It is apparent that Sturmguard has kept much of the war from this small town and intends to do so until he can no longer do so.
Camir walks briskly, nodding here and there, administering orders to men that he passes ans keeping an orderly pace about the city. He pauses before a large, multi-level house on the edge of town.
"This is it, I must warn you, Master Theld can be a bit...abrasive..."
With the verbal warning, Camir raps on the door. Moments later, after a loud bang and a series of curses in dwarven, a stout member of the race throws the door open. He is scornful, face twisted into a sour look that does little to add hopes for a good conversation. His white hair is pulled tightly back and his garb dirty and oily.
"What is it Camir? Any leads?"
"No Master Theld, however..."
"Figures, you couldn't find the moon were it not hanging in the sky."
"HOWEVER!" Camir overrides the sour dwarf with volume. "These are ambassadors of Sturmguard and have offered to find your missing pieces in exchange for use of your machine."
The dwarf looks you over, his face souring even more. He reluctantly opens the doors further and motions for you to enter. Behind the dwarf, you can see what looks like nothing less than a machinists' nightmare. Gears, sprockets, wires, loops and countless cogs appear to be thrown together in a mish-mash statue that serves no purpose.
Theld moves away from the door, kicking more metal pieces on the floor as he walks away, mumbling about more 'nosy people'.
Camir sighs.
"I apologize for his brash behaviour. He has been most sour since the theft."
"I leave you now so that I am not in neglect of my duties. Should you need me, find the nearest guard and simply request my presence."
"Is there anything you need before I leave?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - Girud, stepping outside you do spot a wagon that is of the right size and bulk to carry the large chunk of crystal...however, its missing its right wheel.
There are enough polearms and cloth about to manufacture a stretcher, and that seems to be the consensus of the elves. They begin to scour the grounds quickly, taking ropes and cloth, fashioning a large platform to carry the crystal.
Within the hour, the stretcher is made and the crystal rolled atop it. Ensuring that every carrier touches the crystal, it is easy to hold the bulk of the artifact. Irinys looks to the small goblin.
"Or fate is in your hands little one."
Mordrock smiles with glee, looking directly at Krysta.
"If fate mean what on her chest, then Mordrock happy!"
Literally skipping, the small goblin makes his way to the cave entrance and darts into the woods beyond.
{I need to know who is were. Carrying? Scouting? Or simply walking along?}
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yuri, Romar and Sehanine - The dwarves take a few seconds to mutter responses to your questions.
"We know ye be allies friend, not many in these times would spare us the traiterous results of a sneak attack. With Sturmguard you say? We shall discuss that at length shortly."
"Ye are about to witness the reason 'The Master' has been so successful in battle..."
The dwarves words hang in the air like a mold, clinging to the fears of your pounding heart. You watch, with morbid curiousity as the blood from the wounds ceases to flow, but the body begins to move.
The mark of 'The Master' pulses and glows, the body shuddering as though affected by convulsions.
The dwarves before you begin to mutter. It is apparent they are all clerics and you silently thank the fates that you are about the fight undead with them at your back.
The first orc rises to his feet, the body jerking around as it is re-animated.
{Romar, Readied Action. Attack Roll = 19}
An arrow, loosed by the ranger whizzes past the group and strikes the chest of the orc, dead center. {Damage roll = 8}
It does little... [undead orc 1 slightly wounded.]
The body barely moves as its companions stand upright. You fear that they have been brought back...more powerful than before.
'The Master' is truly a commander of the dead...
{Initiative: Yuri, Romar and the Dwarves, Sehanine, Orcs}
The dwarf takes a second to yell.
"Unless ye are immune to fire, stay away from them."
With the chanting and communing of the dwarves, you wonder what powers they will summon.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
)
