Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

He watched as Jacob walked away for a moment. He heard a low whistle and a moment later Jacob walked back with a bag full of moss and herbs; he asumed it was for the tea and looked over at his blue bedroll with a long sigh. While the tea was being made Derek decided he had procrastinated enough and walked over to his bedroll unwillingly to pack everything up. He thought that once his was done the tea would most likely be ready to drink. He did not know how he did it, but jacob made the best tea in the world. Tea always relaxed him, no matter what mood he was in, and he could tell that Laeris liked the tea too. He could almost physically relax when he saw Jacob throw the ingredients into the pot of boiling water. It also helped to keeping his immune system up, he got sick on occasion because he immune system wasn't exactly the best in the world. He watched as the water boiled up into steam, the tendrils of water vapor disappearing into the air.

He never completely understood exactly how his powers worked, but he had come to understand some things about it. He didn't so much as control it as it somehow protected him like it had a mind of its own. In addition, it didn't seem to just come out of nowhere, if there is water anywhere nearby:in the air, or underground, he could manipulate it into liquid, solid or gas. There was this one time, when he was heading across Crackshell point when a lone Tyranadon swooped in and tried to kill him for a snack. He had been staring at a small lake near him and the moment its claws grabbed hold of him; the entire pool of water rose from the ground and ingulfed the Tyranadon in an orb of water in mid air and froze. It came crashing down and shattered into pieces. The event had left him gasping for breath and realized that the amount of stamina he had affected how much water he could manipulate and for how long.

He rolled up his bedroll and made sure that everything was pack in his napsack. He took a tin can from his pack and walked back over to the fire. He sat down and waited patiently for the tea to cook. He figured out that the more you waited for tea the better it got.

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Casidey was tired, that was true enough. She wouldn't deny it as it would be completely useless; a blind man could see the heaviness her in eyelids. But never once, through hell or high water, had she ever let anyone make a crack at her without some sort of retaliation. That just wasn’t her style and she had a reputation to maintain. What would the rest of the witty and charming rogues say if they saw her slacking? It just wouldn’t do to let a particularly stoic man get away with saying something so easily turned around.

Without missing a beat she gave a flicker of a smile before lifting her chin to meet Laeris’ gaze with eyes the color of rolling thunderclouds. “Well,” she sighed with the dramatic flare rivaling that of a professional actress, “I might be able to sleep better at night if I had some strong soldier man’s arm wrapped around me tightly. Then I could lay my head on his chest and be reassured by the beat of his steady heart and feel completely safe… But as it is, I’ve had to endure sleeping by myself.” She gave him a crooked smile complete with dimples and raised an eyebrow suggestively, though she couldn’t keep the mirth from twinkling in her eyes.

Then she pulled her pack towards her and started pulling out her knife belts like she hadn’t said anything at all. It wasn’t her best work, she decided as she detangled herself from her blanket and unceremoniously stuffed it in her leather bag, but it was pretty good for her current state-of-mind. The young elf started systematically strapping on her knives onto every limb she had. She had plenty to go around, more than could be counted at one glance for sure, and they were all shapes and sizes though all were impeccably crafted and perfectly balanced. Where she acquired these finely made weapons was a secret she felt no desire going in depth about. Not now, not ever.

Now that she was fully armed Casidey somewhat resembled a porcupine with dangerously sharp metal quills, though a decidedly much prettier and personable one. She quickly ran a long fingered hand through her jet hair, now gleaming in the morning light with a raven wing’s purplish-blue sheen, as a makeshift comb before pushing herself to her feet. Then she gave a happy sigh as she stood on her tiptoes and stretched every muscle and popped stiff joints. Much better. Now she was awake enough to be excited about getting back to civilization.

She was a city girl, through and through, so this wilderness thing wasn’t exactly her favorite thing. A few nights ago she had leaned back on some sort of tree that had looked like every other tree in the gods forsaken forest, and had been rewarded with a hair full of wonderfully sticky sap. That had been so much fun to get out, or to be more precise it was still being fun to get out. She hadn’t gotten it all yet. A girl could only take so many picturesque views and cute forest creatures before she wanted to jump off the nearest, beautifully scenic cliff. What she really needed was some time in Canyon City’s slums, where she would feel right at home. She could catch up on all the new underworld gossip, resupply on money by way of unknowing peoples’ fat coin purses, and maybe even get to see a good bar brawl… or better yet, be in one. The thought made her almost giddy with anticipation as she plopped herself down closer to the fire with her pack slung over her shoulders, now much more awake at the prospect of getting out the middle of nowhere.

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Jakob pulled the water off of the fire before it boiled too long. Holding it with the edges of his jacket, he placed it on the flat rock nearest his thigh. A dipper was produced from within the folds of his coat and this, he used with great aplomb in beginning to fill his and the other cup there.

For the most part, conversation went over his head, unnoticed. But when Casidey tried one of her ways, he often did take note. His eyes darted up and watched Laeris, waiting on the man's cup as well as taking careful notice of how the man responded to the girl. He was a great deal older than she, but they were elven. Such things as age did little in their times.

Why it would matter really? He wasn't sure if it would. He smirked and gave Laeris a look to indicate that time was awastin' before he turned back to finish filling Derek's cup.

The younger elf was impetuous, true. But Jakob almost enjoyed the younger male more than the others at times. Derek turned the camp about - upside down with his enthusiasm, in different ways than Casidey did. Granted, Casidey could do her own manner of damage. She had a sort of frightening hardness about her that insisted to all she was perfectly fine and they'd best be on their way.

He didn't really believe either of them. He made room for their moods and he made them tea. He watched them create and cool their havoc at different times and he might have, as time went on, even been drawn into cooling down fires. For now, however, he was content just watching.

"Tea, Casidey?" he asked, as he always did. His eyes slid from Laeris' expression to her busy, quick witted form as it settled next to his. He'd filled his cup, handed Derek his, and now there was enough for the rest. His regular portion.

There truly was something engendering peace in that moment. The sound of wakening birds intermingled with the crackling pops of the fire. They were surrounded by life, yet they were apart from it. It was a dichotomy which often intrigued Jakob. He might have discussed such a thing, had he been alone, to his attendant ghostly memories, but he was with the rest and not one of them had shown propensity to notice such things. Derek was too busy, Casidey couldn't be bothered with things she didn't understand, and Laeris had his armor to burnish.

One couldn't say Jakob was lonely. He was, instead, rather content but in a far different way than he might have been, had this journey and his companions been of his choice instead required of him.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

Laeris looked at Casidey with little to no amusement as she just basically called him a hunk. Some sweet soldier to wrap her arms around. True, though there was a gap in age, it hardly showed itself on Laeris' hardened features, but instead of dignifying Casidey with any sort of reply, he turned back to his sword and set it carefully down before digging out a cup of his own that looked just as polished as he was.

He knew Jakob was expecting some sort of reply out of him. In fact, it seemed that all of them would be in their own subtle ways. They seemed to like picking on his uptight manners, though he let it slide as he unconcernedly offered his cup to Jakob to distribute the regular amount. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't lose touch with Jakob at least. He wanted the recipe for that tea should they ever come to split ways, which he was sure they would once their task was complete.

Finally though, he realized that perhaps he should contribute to the banter passed around the camp in so leisurely a manner and glanced to Casidey, opening his mouth to make a reply. But Laeris had never been all that witty, so instead of making some flashing remark that would send her cheeks aflame, he instead mumbled out a casual "good luck on finding this 'strong soldier' you speak of that would actually be willing to hold you in his arms." There should have been a light hearted smile to accompany the comment, but it seemed Laeris was unfamiliar with such exhibits of humor as he glanced to the woman who was trading barbs with him.

It was then that he realized how offensive the remark could be and almost grimaced as he sought an addition. It wouldn't help to put himself on bad terms with anyone in the group. "You'd likely stab him through twenty times before he could get his arms around you," he added on a bit hastily, gesturing to her array of weaponry, then wondered why he was even bothering to try and hold up the attempt at friendly banter.

With that thought said and done, he turned his gaze back to Jakob with a soft murmur of "some tea please," in the quick attempt to change the subject. The absolute last thing he wanted was to trade banter all day. Especially since he wanted to get to Canyon City. The meal sounded nice and all, but it was the bath that had truly caught his interest.

Ahhh, how it would feel to be truly clean again.

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I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

Derek put the cup to his lips and took a small sip of the burning hot tea. It was delicious, although he would never say that out loud, he liked to goof around sometimes but he never liked to show anyone what he was feeling. In this world emotions were considered a weakness, if you were caught by any member of the chess pieces showing emotion in any way possible, you were thrown into a pit with a pack of pangolins or into a marsh of mossosaurs. The tea warmed him to the bone, seeping into his soul, relaxing him. He loved that no matter how tense he got, tea always relaxed him for some reason. He slowly drained the rest of his tea and put the cup back into his pack; he then stood up and stretched, shaking the last bit of sleep from his limbs.
"When your all done we can head out, I am supposed to meet someone at Canyon City." Derek didn't even want to think of the consequences of not arriving on time, His old friend is insane and can get set off at the tinnest thing. I mean literally this guy should have been in a mental room, but he was a good fighter, an old friend and also hated Valcenz, which was a bonus too. Long ago he was captured and tortured for a long time. They had done experiments on him and had replaced one eye with a mechanical one. Somehow he managed to escape and had been lying low until now. Which he doubted because he can't do anything without making a scene, he loved to show off his ability to tamper with any equipment he can get.

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Jakob did what he could to prevent any further discussion betwixt Casidey and Laeris by taking cups and smiling at Casidey. "Tea, my dear. Thank you," again stated for her cup being handed to him.

Cup after cup was given out, then finished. As usual, Jakob found pleasure in the fact that none tossed remnants. They did not seek the last drops usually, but neither did they sip and turn away from the remainder. He had a bit of personal satisfaction from a "pot" well made.

He too, drank his tea. He stood as he did so, watching the camp break and the others finish, then make their ways to preparations to leave. For some, preparations were more extensive than others. For Jakob, it was much like getting out of bed in the morning. It was not cold enough to warrant more than a small woolen blanket which he had folded and used as a seat pillow while on watch. This had been bound and attached to his small pack of tea things, cup, and tools. He had but a handful of things which he found necessary for travel, even harrowing travel as this would soon prove to be.

He shook out the pot and rubbed it against the ground to cool it. Leaving it on some stones, he fitted the dipper into his small pack, just beside the trowel and a slender digging tool, looking much like a letter opener. His cup went into the dipper, nestling easily.

After a quick look at his water satchel, finding it almost empty - he would have to get some more when they found a nice spring - Jakob closed up his satchel and fitted the pot upside down atop it. After a quick strapping of pot by way of leather straps branching from tarnished copper button conches, he stood and set pack to his back.

All in all, it was but a breath or two before he was finished, not counting the responsibility to the fire which one of the others had tended to by putting dirt upon the flames to stifle them.

Humming, Jakob craned his head back and stared up at the now golden and purple canyon walls. The sun was alive, though they remained in shadow. He'd never been in a canyon, hadn't traveled this far ever before. But he'd heard of Canyon City and its particulars.

"I look forward to finally seeing the Canyon City stories come to life," the woodsman smiled about him, speaking lazily. "I've heard a great deal, though granted, the stories were very old even when I was told them."

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

[I dunno the order, but Kienve is waiting on me so... here goes [for the sake of free faller, since I really would like to see her catch up when she can, I'm going to refrain from posting Laeris; unless you guys want me too...?]]


Valcenz smiled cruelly at Kon, seeming pleased that the man understood that his very life could be hanging in the balance of this little project. Of course, Valcenz wasn't sure of that statement himself. He had little desire to train another little minion, and this one did his job so well... But oh well, life went on Valcenz mused, eying Kon like one would a valued pet.

"Well then," he soothed in sudden, silky tones and gave his wispy robes a flourish. "I leave you to your work. Be sure it does not impede my own." With that, he turned to leave the room, the robes trailing and wisping away; though always more material replaced whatever wafted up in smoke. Thankfully, it was odorless. Valcenz had little need or desire to give his presence away with some pungent, burning scent. That certainly wouldn't serve his purpose.

Or perhaps a stench would be a good thing? Something to herald his coming that would strike fear into the hearts of many. Maybe he'd find something that hinted at burning flesh? A soft dry chuckle left his throat as he strode on, seeming to have forgotten about his little minion altogether as he strode off and out of the dungeons.

[short. crap. blugh x.x]

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I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

[No order, and as this does not really apply to the main story, this can be posted out of order with that.]

"Well then, I leave you to your work. Be sure it does not impede my own."

At the command, Kon left rather quickly, headed toward the library. Along the way, he played his favorite game; mutter about torture and see how many guards wet them. His record was about three, but most did not have good enough hearing, and the ones that did happened to enjoy it most of the time. Not. Fair.

Upon reaching the library, which was mostly empty as usual, he quickly picked out several books dealing with legends and prophecies. Remembering a childhood tale, used to break children by filling them with hope only to have it taken away, he looked at one of the many books describing his lord’s rise to power. Flipping over to the end, he preformed a slight skim till he found what he was looking for.

And the five elves challenged Valcenz, fighting over a period of time lost to current men. For the purposes of this book, we will assume it took a single decade for the fight to stop. When the inevitable end came to be, Valcenz banished the elves from Pangea, believing that the banishment would destroy them from inside out.

There are rumors of a curse, and no one found knows the exact wording. In the event that the curse exists, the only interpretation is that five elves of will and determination will gain the powers of the five who originally challenged Valcenz. It can only be assumed that they would hold some grudge against Valcenz, though I have not been able to determine what it would be.

It can be assumed that a close person being killed by Valcenz himself or by proxy can fill this requirement. It can also be possible that it would be completely random, though this would imply poor planning on the part of the banished elves, as the chosen ones could be loyal to Valcenz. A bit of interesting information would be that it never states if they would even make it to Valcenz, or if they do who would win.

Frowning in that his lord was not referred to as normal, he checked the author. Sighing at the name, that of a convicted rebel, a single thought came to mind.

'Rebels.'

Though it was most likely propaganda, it was the only lead that Kon had, and the others looked to be mostly children’s books, none dealing with anything that could be harmful in the public view of his lord. Teach them the truth from the cradle, and they will hold that as the truth no matter what.

Jason strode purposefully through the citadel, his massive, armoured form seething with the evil power imbued by Lord Valcenz. His eyes glowed an angry scarlet and the blue jewel on his chest hummed with arcane power; a power Jason still did not fully understand, although he would never admit this. Understanding was not his task. He had been created for the sole purpose of furthering Lord Valcenz's legacy and to that end there were none better.

How he longed to taste blood once more. It had been days since he last sacrificed heretics on the altar of his Lord, and his inhuman lust for death was beginning to drive him wild.

Guards recoiled when confronted with the walking avatar of death, his fists clenching and relaxing as he attempted to stem his need for carnage. He wanted to kill them, every last one of them. They were all incompetent, all useless, all fortunate to be granted the favour of mighty Valcenz. It disgusted Jason to see these ingrates cower; behaving so human as to induce vomit. Humanity was a self-destructive beast that could not be trusted. Only the pure, loving embrace of chaos could truly redeem such worthless souls, and Jason would see to it that all in turn were faced with redemption.

In the distance he spotted his Lord and sped up, his footsteps becoming great thuds that rang through the stone hallways of the castle. His cape billowed behind him and his eyes flashed a deeper red as he rounded his master and fell to his knees:

"Great Lord Valcenz, command me."

Jason knew he need not say any more than that. If Lord Valcenz had a task for him he would announce it, if not then he would keep on walking and Jason would be grateful to still have his life. It was not that he feared death, indeed Jason barely even knew of death, such was the degree to which he had been corrupted, it was that he saw every meeting with Valcenz as a blessing; as a chance to convert the undeserving with blade and axe, fire and fist. It would not be enough to say that Jason enjoyed what he did because for him there was no emotion involved. He had grown far beyond that to the point where he executed his tasks with a furious zeal devoid of any moral or mental commitment, aside from his fanatical dedication to the path of death.

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I pwn n00bs for a living.

[Only reason I didn't put this in before was due to a conversation springing up on msn]

Not bothering to put the books away, as they would be soon picked up by one of the keepers, he noticed that a few guards were collecting themselves, no doubt from meeting the knight commander. Kon held a begrudging respect for the man.

He was an effective psychological torturer by simply being in the same room, but he did not understand the joy of pain and the pleasure it brings. That and he never gave Kon a chance to actually torture his prey with a goal in mind. They were broken by the time he got to them, so it was pointless. Kon was not sure exactly how old he was, as he was there when Kon was finally allowed into the tower itself, but he was already sixteen by then. The man could have been there the day before, or he could have been there since before Kon was even born.

Breaking himself out of his musings, he found he had reached the archives, and checked the records for any reference to anyone killed in the past thirty years. Noting only a handful that were registered as alive, and most of them loyal to Valcenz, he jotted down the names of those living and thief family members. He noted the last check in, not necessary but a constant performance can help for an alibi, and left a note at the archives desk.

The guards would draw straws to see who went to see his lord to deliver the news, and the 'winner' would wet himself, cry, and hope that his lord did not kill the poor man. And that he did not fall into an iron maiden. Series of 'accidents'. No one questions that Kon always checks the ones where the bodies are found, simply out of a desire not to be broken on the wheel. A crude, but effective, method of torture. Kon was lucky that there was such a surplus of guards that they were disposable at the rate that they were used; otherwise he would need to be careful and lengthen the lifespan of those he got.