Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

((I'm controlling two NPCs in this post, just to evolve certain plot machinations. They're not actually my characters so if you want to do something with them, please tell me. Also I forgot the name of the princess so I made a new one. Because I am lame. Plus the princess references a character that I will introduce next post, but at the moment it is late and I am lazy.

If this fantasy universe was just a little less sexist, there would be no conflict to this plot. ))

Evie: ~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Great. Of course the Atles government wants to blame this on us, since it's more convenient. What bothered her even more was that she didn't blame them. Hell, in their position she'd probably make the same decision: sacrifice a half dozen sorcery students in order to avoid full-blown war. The problem is that, even with us as sacrificial lambs, it might still not work. If Branchwood is intent on being hostile, then there will be war anyway.

It occurred to Evie that she was 'in charge' of the situation. She had not gotten in contact with any of the other students yet, and Aerandir was more or less a hired hand. Everyone else was an interloper or someone who had come to 'aid' her (or boss her around, which she wouldn't allow). So she had to come to a decision. She had only a few options:

1.) Escape the city and tell Atles that Branchwood was the culprit. Outcome: War.

2.) Not escape the city and probably die. Not so much an option as a risk. Outcome: Death.

3.) Find the princess, pretend that it wasn't Branchwood, and pacify Atles. It was such an impossible option that she had a hard time figuring out the consequences, but chances were that they were not either war or death. And in that sense, it was the best option.

Apparently someone else was outside. She understood the need for silence, but had stayed silent for days. In this out-of-the-way place, they could probably just knock the person unconscious and be done with it. And this was a conversation she really wanted to have, partially because if she didn't voice it now she might lose her nerve.

"Listen," She whispered. "This is going to sound crazy, especially because I think we all want to escape from here. But in this situation, I think we need to - I want to - infiltrate Branchwood castle. It's the best chance we have of finding the princess. Where else would they keep her?" She sucked in a deep breath. "And if we don't find her, then we're all in deep shit."

It was then that she noticed the annoying bird that was pecking on her head. Before she could swat it, the bird flew to the window and began to peck - no, motion - to outside. Evie almost sighed in relief. At least they had one ally here, even if she wasn't sure who they were. But they could use magic, and that would definitely come in use.

Headmaster/Princess Corinne: ~Private Study, Sorcerer's Academy, Atles~

The plan was simple. The motive, even more so. She wanted power.

Had she been born a man, this would have been fine. She was the first in line. However, regardless of her title, a woman would never be allowed to sit on the throne of Atles. This was a tradition that would not change unless there was some serious rearranging/assassination of personnel.

So she would provide a war. And when the war was finished, she would emerge the hapless victim of the turmoil and take control of both kingdoms.

The Headmaster reclined in the chair behind his desk, the tip of his long white beard coiling around his paperwork. He smiled when he saw her walk in.

He noted, "You cut your hair."

She pulled on a short blonde strand. "I wanted to just use glamour magic, but I thought one of your sharp students might be suspicious. So I decided to dress down for the visit." She closed the door. "Is this room secure?"

"Naturally. I have enough spells to hide a troop of elephants in here. Not even a peep will escape to the outside world. How fares your dark plot, Your Highness?"

"The letter worked wonders. Aston is so upset about his friend that he is no longer thinking straight. He will be easy to manipulate." She laughed, a low modest chuckle. "All I have to do is 'prove' that the students are connected to the Atles military and he will not hesitate to go to war. Fortunately I have the right woman on the case. But I must thank you for sending the students in the first place."

"Ah," said the Headmaster, "But there is a loose thread here. What about Evie?"

When Corinne laughed next, it was more boisterous. "Evie? What about her? Let me tell you something - the only person easier to manipulate than Aston is Evie."

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Love the hue.

((By the by, I realize it's my fault for not saying, but Geoffrey isn't fully in armor. Imagine armor, then take out stomach, upper arm (but not shoulder, armpit or elbow), gauntlets, and groin, and replace thigh with large sideplates. That's about it. I'll try to finish the picture I'm working on, which would be easier.))

~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Orin:

If Orin hadn't been listening so hard for any sign of danger, he probably wouldn't have heard the whistle. But in the still, hot air, the sound traveled to his ears.

"Master Guard!" he breathed urgently. In the next moment, a thickly gloved hand clamped over his mouth. As the man turned to him, what face Orin could see from under the helmet looked red. Truly, there was no escape from the sun today; Orin felt his dark hair even soaking up the heat, so that armor must be much worse.

Orin pulled the man's hand away from his mouth, motioning to the left where he had heard the whistle. The man seemed to struggle with something, then he motioned for more silence and for Orin to lay low. He nodded, then, thinking better of laying down in filth, went to hide behind a big heap of rotting wood. He held his bag close--any sharp movement would clink the bottles together, and that would give him away.

Geoffrey:

Geoffrey really didn't want to leave the healer alone. If the people from the cabin came out, he'd have to make a huge sprint to be able to arrive at his side and defend him. But if what the frail man had heard was a lookout, he wanted to get to him before the others would notice anything. He was pleased when the healer hid himself. Now if Geoffrey drew out a fight, they would not know the frail man was even there.

Geoffrey walked as quietly as he could. Some of the leather he wore creaked softly. He knew he'd never ambush anyone, but when he was sufficiently far from the cabin so that none inside would be able to hear him, he whispered, "Truly, I mean you no harm. If you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to fear. No one has given you or your friends unwarranted pain. Rest assured that the Prince has those who would temper him so that the truth can be found. I for one doubt that such a letter would be so blunt and deadly in its words, but if you insist on running, I can only be assured of your guilt. Show yourself and speak to me!"

He was glad the healer was out of sight and hearing. No simple guard used such words as he did; it was courtier speech more than the quaint vocabulary of a grunt, but whomever he was speaking to might not think it mattered at all, and so not remark it in his mind as important. He half hoped that was true, though he doubted what they could do or surmise with such knowledge.

Aerandir ~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Hanging his head down, his dagger still at the mans throat... Oh why did it seem everyone suddenly decide to visit a Garbage dump. ESPECIALLY THIS GUY! The guard, obviously he could be patrolling. He heard the woman speak and then he answered, "Yes, if he doesn't cut through it..."

He placed his right hand, which squeaked with his leather gauntlet tightening over the mans mouth to keep him from yelling. The best thing now was to get out of the city, Now Evie was saying to go INTO the castle... sure he could have done it alone, stealth was a Rangers greatest tool. But with three people!? It was suicide. If the Princess was in there, or not, even the man who loved her more than his own life wouldn't go in there with more than three people. That is if he didn't want to alert the entire garrison at the castle, and he really did not want to challenge 60 Branchwood soldiers.

"Are you insane Evie?!" He whispered horsely. "IF I went alone, There might be a slight, very slight chance of me finding her and getting her out. You raise that to an Academy student and another from the military, That plan goes out the window."

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((Two men on the wrong sides of the fence. I figured Corinne could use a Catspaw for some part of her villainous plot. I am right in assuming that she is the supposed 'kidnapped' princess yes? Or am I wrong?))

Olafius Sigmunt Rivenholde: ~Market Streets, Alabar, Branchwood~

Sigmunt, Glorious Sigmunt, the one above all others, the Divine Silence, greatest thing to ever come from a mortal womb...hell...greatest thing to come from any womb.

He walked down the market streets of the Capital. He'd picked when when choosing Branchwood. The essence of the place was so much richer than that of it's stuffy rival, and more vulgar. But who knows, maybe he'd grow bored with the fare here and move to greener pastures.

For now at least, it suited his fickle tastes. He nodded to the people who caught his gaze, and was amused to see them smile warmly back, not aware that doing so was at least a venal sin.

His heavy cloak ruffled outwards from a breeze only he could feel. He sniffed the winds. It was almost that time again. Feeding Time, Killing Time. Time to give his obedience to that old time religion. He tightened a black gloved fist tentatively in anticipation.

Angling down a side street his pointed boots clicked along the cobblestones rhythmically. Soon there was nothing but the sound of his own steps, and then even they, along with their cause, vanished. No one noticed, no one questioned, just another ghost in a city soon to be full of them.


Lucius Pent: ~Office of the Headmaster, Sorcerer's Academy, Atles~

The Emerald Knight bent to examine a little trifle on one of the shelves. It was an ingenious little device really, a small metal approximation of a bird stood affixed to a bowl of water, it's bulbous body contained a crystal globe also filled with liquid, every few seconds the bird would tip forward into the water before bobbing back up again as if it were drinking. He narrowed his eyes at the beak noticing a little pinhole in the tip. He knew it had something to to with the weight balance of the water within the globe in relation to it's forward weight...but he knew not how. He was a soldier not a scholar, the fact that he knew that much and didn't think it was some sort of sorcery was impressive enough. He reached a hand out to stop it from tipping forwards to see if he could disrupt the cycle accidentally knocking the little birds peg legs from their fittings and causing it to fall on it's side dripping water onto the shelf. Cursing his own clumsiness he fumbled to pick the bird up and attach it to the bowl. He held his breath, only releasing it when the bird tipped forwards again. Sighing he stood up straight and looked around the office. It was well furnished, solid oak desk dominating the room covered with scrolls and parchment, quills and ink lined up in an orderly row. He pursed his lips and tucked his helm under one arm and sighed again. He had come under royal sanction to deliver an official order to the schools headmaster. Sadly, this was not an unusual order to be given to the Emerald Knight these days, being a vassal to a missing princess was not an ideal situation for a knight. Not only did it leave him purposeless and lost, the very fact that she had vanished under his watch cost him his honor and pride. He had once been known to all as the Emerald Knight, greatest fighter in the kingdom. He had championed the royal arena. He had never lost a fight, and rumor had it he'd never even been wounded in battle, neither blade, nor lance, nor arrow, nor spell able to match his peerless skill and shining green armor. For his skill he had been made a Knight of Altes and given the rank of Marshall. Personal guardian to the princess he was respected and beloved by all. Of course, all that changed when the princess vanished. He hadn't been blamed, no finger pointed venomous blame in his direction. He'd lost no rank or standing. He had simply been forgotten, ignored. He had proven himself too weak, and for it he would be doomed to a life of quiet obscurity and eventual oblivion. But more than all that, he was loyal knight who loved his princess, perhaps more than was prudent for a lowly subject. He worshiped her, would do anything for her. He also knew the truth. He had gone along with her plan without question or protest. It was not his place to do anything more than obey, and obey he had. He had changed the guard patrols to leave the opening for her 'kidnapping'. He had planted the evidence that it was Branchwood responsible for the kidnapping. He had sacrificed his face and fame, all for her ambitions, everything for her. But he was happy, he would always be happy as long as he could stand at her side and serve her in any way he could. The fact that he had been privy to her secret designs alone filled him with warmth and joy.

Running a hand through his short auburn hair he turned his dark brown eyes around the room, the many portraits, none of whom he recognized, the busts of previous headmasters, the fine artwork on their pedestals, the toys, the tokens, the treasures. Finally he rested upon the oaken door behind the desk. She had gone in there for only a few minutes, but he was still anxious. He didn't like leaving her alone with such a powerful threat. He didn't like the spellcaster. He didn't like being this far from her, unable to know what was happening to her right now. But still...he was loyal...he would wait. He paced the large office again, trying to find something else to take his mind off his worries.

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[[EDITED!!!]]

Vejjen - Alleys - Alabar, Branchwood

Vejjen decided it was time to call it a day and he waved to the other guards. He walked toward the alley, still keeping his authoritive stance, but as soon as he reached the alley he let his shoulders slump, he took a few turns and began to walk down another turn, when with the corner of his eye he saw two cautious guards one quickly ran to hide, the other man spoke up, using a sophistacated vocabulary. He jogged over to see the commotion. He eyed the man, a green eyed bulky fellow. He saluted noting his Branchwood ensignia and his higher rank. He took another step forward be flinched as a wave of putrid odour swam up his nostrils. Following the smell was a wave of heat, A hot garbage dump, greeaaat, he thought.

"Do you think we may have found them?", he questioned the man in a hushed tone, while placing his hand on his sword, in preparation.

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"Size Matters Not"

Proud member of the D.I.C.A.
Floaty Cube, 4/880 experiance points

((Again, Corinne is not my character. Well, at least, I'm not sure if she is yet. We'll see. And yes, she is the 'kidnapped' princess. But mostly she's just kind of a bitch.

Sorry guys. I saw that Desperado was working on a post and I didn't want to have to make either of us edit. And I have to run out the door now. So I'll post Evie tomorrow.))

Princess Corinne: ~Office of the Headmaster, Sorcerer's Academy, Atles~

The Headmaster did actually have a day job, so he had stepped out to tend to some of his students. This left Princess Corinne alone with her faithful knight. Time to implement the second phase of the plan.

"Lucius, I'm going to need you to do me a favor." She sat in the Headmaster's desk and twirled. Swivel chairs were the best - the most recent invention of the clever craftsmen of the Kingdom of Atles. If she could she would make the throne chair a swivel chair, but then people would probably take her less seriously than they already did. "I'm going to need you to go befriend Evie and company, but I want you to sabotage them - make sure that they get captured again. Of course you will be captured as well." She smiled. "Then I want you to kill Aston and pin it on the students."

Everything was falling into place. The Headmaster was already spreading the false rumors that he had sent the students under the direct command of the Atles military. It wouldn't be long before Aston's information network heard those rumors - in other words, it wouldn't be long before he started war.

And then as soon as he did that, there was no reason for him to be in the picture anymore. Especially because she didn't want to give him any more time to get wise to her scheme.

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Love the hue.

Athradien was completely taken off guard by the mans words... how did they know he was there...? The whistle was almost an exact copy of a birds... though the main word in the sentence is almost. He had sized up the guard earlier, he could definitely move faster from what he could tell, and as for a fighting strategy... quick and swift attacks if needed, though close quarters combat would be out of the question with the hulking Axe of his. In the end, he would most likely end up using magic to sort out the problem at hand.

"Many things are hidden in this mind... Many... ancient things..." He began running through a set of riddles in his head, "With everything that is hidden... there are many that wish to take my life, along with others who are similar to myself... Including your prince." He still didn't show himself, staying in the exact same place... until the last second... "It is not guilt I run with... but something quite different... yes... quite different..." His voice was filled with a charisma and confidence most didn't ever show.

His words could be heard by all three of them men there without any trouble. With the end of his short speech, he mumbled some words and dropped to the ground. His cloak began to change colors, mimicking his surroundings without even a minor flaw. (similar to the LOTR cloaks which Frodo had... yeah, I lose for copying...)

Unless one of them were to walk on top of him, they wouldn't be able to tell anything was right there... just another pile of garbage laid to rot and decompose for another million years. He was squatted down with his left foot close to his right as to make a quick getaway if needed. He hopped Aerandir and Evie would make it out of the house and get away before they were all caught again. Athradien would go back to the jail and potentially hang there to save two lives. One life for two was always worth the risk if it was needed to be taken.

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((I'm to take it that Athradien showed himself at the last minute, right? Just tell me if I'm mistaken and I'll edit my post ))

~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Geoffrey:

Geoffrey heard the other guard trot up to him before he saw him. The man was crouching near him now, saying "Do you think we may have found them?"

"Maybe," he whispered back. "If we move cautiously."

Geoffrey had more been hoping to have a one-on-one conversation with someone from the Academy, but it looked like this was not to be. With another guard here, he couldn't speak frankly, and he couldn't predict how this guard would react to anything, either.

Then a voice came out from where the healer had pointed. It made a long speech that sounded completely vague. Geoffrey stood, unimpressed, as the man showed himself, then quickly dropped down as his cloak shifted color to blend in with the ground. There was no way the man was in that same spot now. Too obvious to find him.

Feeling cheated, Geoffrey scuffed his foot. "If you don't run with guilt, what is it you run with? Cowardice? Although..." He suppressed a laugh. "I don't envy your position; nose to the trash and all that."

He sighed. The cloaked man had shouted loud enough that the people in the building would surely have heard. There were only a couple options available now.

He turned to the guard who had come up. "What do you think we should do? Storm the shack right now, or call them out and see if they'll surrender?"

Orin:

"...see if they'll surrender?"

Orin caught the last end of the question as he made his way over to the two guards. He had been hiding up until then, but now seemed a prudent time to join them.

The green-eyed soldier glanced at him suddenly. His tone was sharp, and Orin winced down at it. "What are you doing?" At the wince, his words softened. "If it comes down to it, we may not be able to fight and defend you at the same time."

"I-it's just. I found something...that might help..." Saying so, he held his hand forward to show them the plant. "It grows in places like these, you know. Um, lobelia, that is."

The green-eyed soldier's eyes widened. "Pukeweed?" A grin spread over his face. "That's brilliant! But how can we..."

Orin was already pulling more plants from where he had stored them in his sleeves. He also produced the handkerchief. "I'm sorry. It's yours, but... It's all I can really think of..."

The green-eyed soldier had already taken it from his hands and was tearing it into four squares. He filled them with the plant and tied it off, handing one to the newcomer guard. "Light it and throw it, but for gods' sakes, don't breathe it," he said, grinning.

Orin nodded to the words, adding, "Unless you want to... you know, um, puke."

The green-eyed soldier lit his little container with a match from the bag on his thigh, then lobbed it through the window of the shack. Luckily, the house was so dilapidated, nothing covered the windows but rags of cloth.

Orin stood with his dumbly, unsure of whether another one was sufficient if the newcomer threw his as well. And there was still the matter of one more little ball. And the man who had shouted. He clutched his instead, ready to use it if threatened.

((So I guess the headmaster set them up? Then it seems Corrin got played as well, then.))

Corrin - Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood

"If anyone is going to infiltrate the castle," Corrin said, scowling at Aerandir, "It should be me. I was brought here to do a job, and that's to fix the mess that you all made of things, which I intend to do. Evie I trust is telling the truth, but I don't even know who you are or what your part is in all of this. Why should I trust you?"

Corrin also noticed the bird suddenly fly in and peck at the window as if to get their attention. She moved toward the window, close enough to just be able to look at what was going on in the alley without being seen. There were at least two guards that she could see, and one of them had an axe at the ready. She couldn't tell from this angle what they were doing, or get a good look at their appearance.

She moved away from the window to avoid being seen, unsure of what they should do. She didn't really want to get into a battle right here, partially since she had left most of her weapons well-hidden in a hollow outside the city gates, not being able to carry a longbow and a short sword into the city and still maintain her disguise. She did have a few throwing daggers, but she didn't really want to have to kill one of them, not here, where other guards could be summoned.

Then she heard a third person shouting, and soon after that something was lobbed through the window, and her nose was assaulted by a smell even more vile than that of rotting garbage. She suddenly found herself violently sick, and sank to the floor, vomiting.

Pent: ~Office of the Headmaster, Sorcerer's Academy, Atles~

He turned his head sharply when the door opened, scowling at the passing headmaster. His mood and visage brightened noticeably as he saw his beloved princess enter the room, with a look that made him look for all the world like a dog greeting it's benevolent master, if he'd had a tail, it would have wagged.

He listened to her command with eager ears, each word from her lips lyrical beauty. Dazzled by her words, he gave no thought to their meaning, or their implication. He didn't judge. He didn't question. He served, and that was all. Dropping to a knee he planted a fist in the rug as he bowed his head low. "Your will be done my light of lights."

Standing back to his full, prodigious height he bowed again as he left, still bowing until he disappeared out the door. A small part of his mind, the rational decent part protested, wishing to rail against the blind faith he put in his Lady. He had been asked to do a thing, a terrible thing, to use lies and trickery to win the trust of some hapless students, to slay a king with the outcome of greater violence and betrayal. It was not a knights work, it was not honorable, or noble. But it was his duty, and that was all.

*****

He'd left swiftly, packing the few belongings he'd need. Traveling cloths, his armor would make him stand out, despite his fall from grace, shining green platemail tended to stand out, enough rations for a one way trip to Branchwood, and of course his blade, the one to kill a king. He took one of the Pegasi from the royal stables, and flew straight and true, for Branchwood, and the unfortunate students within.

Sig: ~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

The cloaked man watched the spectacle, humans were so...inventive. He could watch them for a hundred years and still be amused by whatever new antics they concocted. He looked 'up' from where he 'stood'. The terms relative thanks to the way he hung suspended in midair, opposite the trio of Branchwood men. His magic seethed around him, wrapping him in a veil of obscurity from the mortals. The soldiers were so mundane he could have just hung there without notice, but the students were talented for such small prey, but even they might have sniffed out the predator if he wasn't thorough. He snickered at the silly little Altes trick. How passe. He flicked a long, pale finger at where the student hid under his cloak, stirring the air beneath him, slowly a first, then with a sharp tug it blasted upwards flaring his cloak up away from his person and tossing all the trash he hide within away, leaving him exposed on the clear ground around him.

Sig closed one eye and put a hand on his hat, holding it lest his own gust of wind cause it to fall through his bubble of nonexistence. He was cheating a little. He should just let the Branchwood soldiers figure out where the little rabbits were hiding, but he felt playful today, and god below knew they wouldn't be able to figure it out for themselves. The Talentless were always so hopeless, but even they might best the rabbits if he helped them too much. That would be no fun at all. Then he'd have to boil them in their armor, but the talentless were so bland no matter how thoroughly you spiced them. Ah well, that was the fun of life in the end, the unknown factor, that uncontrollable element of chance. For now he'd just be a good boy and watch.

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