The Merchant's Daughter (S:ARG RP) - Traditional Fantasy IC
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The Merchant's Daughter...
A coastal peninsula divided into 5 kingdoms. Over the past centuries, the kingdoms have had peace and had wars, but they had never dealt with an enemy like they did before the last winter. Outlanders, pouring ashore on ships. Each kingdom suffered massive defeats and finally, for the first and only time, all 5 kingdoms came together and pushed the enemy back. It was only a push however, and the only thing that saved Staylia was winter; cold and ice.
Storms froze the seas and churned up waters and Outlanders ceased coming. The last of them were killed off or scattered a few weeks after winter. It was a long winter that year, just over two years, and two years was more than long enough for the 5 kingdoms to split apart and start squabbling as if nothing had ever happened. Almost, if not all, people failed to make the connection that it was not a victory, it was just that the waters were too icy, cold and dangerous to continue to navigate.
The sun shines and people forget.
Not long after the spring thaw, the fishing village of Small Haven was pillaged, the entire population left dead or scattered.
This was 4 days ago, and a merchant in the city of Arbich has been looking for his daughter, who went with a trade caravan with his brother and his brother’s son on a trade caravan. Only one man from the caravan was found, and he died later when his wound became infected.
After the fourth day and the arrival of the wounded boy, the merchant decided to pay a group of adventurers to seek out what happened and find his daughter, who he believed to still be alive…
– Humans, are--well, human. They are the most diverse of the races, light skinned to dark skinned and in between. Humans generally live to about 70 or 80. Humans are the most resistant to magic attacks and are also very resistant to mental drain.
– Elves live to be about 250-300 years old. They are smaller framed than humans and generally slightly shorter. They do have pointed ears and there are two difference species: dark and sky. Dark elves originated underground while skyelves stayed above. Elves are just like humans in that there are evil, good and in-between. While elves live longer and thus can spend more time studying, they are more susceptible to physical drains of magic, albeit only slightly. Elves have night vision, although it takes minutes to adapt to instant changes and also leaves them disorientated if the change is extreme and immediate.
– Orks are slightly taller than humans and more broad also. They have green skin usually, but some are known to be brown or even blue. Known for the fury in battle and amazing stamina, it is a stigma that other Orks deal with daily as there are many peaceful, nomadic tribes. Their facial hair is as diverse as humans and they sometimes use jewelry. Orks live to be 150 years old, have a lesser for of nightvision (but it transitions a lot better) and are generally more resistance to physical drain but more affected by mental drain. Orks can eat almost anything, even rotten meat, but they do not do so but under the most dire of consequence.
– These are very humanlike people of just smaller stature, usually not getting taller than 5 feet (that’s an extremely TALL halfling). They generally live to be about 100 years old however and are very agile and dexterous. Halflings are immune to many poisons and also are immune to lycanthropy.
– Goblins are extremely similar to halfings in almost every way. A few differences are that they have pointed teeth, red to brown skin, have night vision similar to elves,live to be about 60-70 years old and are also extremely strong for their size (and lack the agile nature of haflings). Almost all goblin races are fanatic supporters of goblins and kill for any reason. However, goblins will not wage war with each other and will always settle clan disputes peacefully, except when it’s for territory or something like such, at which point they have one champion fight another to the death. While a single goblin may not look like much to fear, they are extremely dangerous but they can be hellish in numbers.
– Ogres are large, sometimes over 15 feet tall and live to be 50-60. They generally keep to smaller clans and are usually peaceful, but the few times that more violent ogres attacked other races has definitely painted them all as blood thirsty brutes. They are usually grey skinned, but some are slightly brown and they usually have horned or protrusions on their head, along with large fangs in their mouth. They are immune to all but the most potent poisons and also very resistant to fire damage. Ogres randomly have hardened spots of skin that is as hard as bone on their bodies and it acts as a sort of armor, but their skin is harder than any other race, almost acting as a very light armor.
– A dwarf is usually no larger than 4 feet tall but extremely broad and stocky. They usually inhabit mountains or hills, but some inhabit cities or live elsewhere. They have thermal vision in the dark (see heat signatures) and live to be about 140-170 years old. Dwarves are slightly more resistant to physical drain and are able to go longer than most races without food or drink (although you will definitely hear about it if they miss a meal!). Dwarves skin is a little more dense than other races.
Half-breeds: All racial mixes are allowed. Results are chaotic at best. You could have a human and elf produce 3 offspring, one looks human but lives 150 years, another looks more elven but lives 90 years and another looks mixed but liked 125 and but is slimmer than both, so on and so forth.
Ogre father/ork mother = Eerkro
(other half-breed names will be posted as the come along)
Classes – Classes are what would be used in most traditional fantasies: mages, warrior, priest, monk, ranger and so on and so forth. I will not hinder or make role requirements unless something just stands out to me. Classes are required just to give a broad sense of your character vice having to read through intros and IC threads to realize "Oh, he's a rogue" so that we can balance classes.
Bestiary - The beasts of this world are open to us, although again, if there is anything outlandish or ridiculous, I will adjust accordingly.
– Magic in this world is pretty unique. All magic is triggered by a single or many spoken words. Upon casting a spell, several things happen. First, the spell is (usually) removed from the casters mind. There is also physical and mental drain on the caster.
The spell level affects many things and is affected by many things. Casting takes many things into account such as study, stress, hunger, fatigue and then there is the level of the spell. Now while most spells leave the casters memory upon casting, this can be negated by hours and hours of study and focus. The lower level the spell, the more apt one is to retain it, HOWEVER, this does not negate drain, and depending on the situation, one spell can be forgotten after many times of it being retained.
So a highly schooled mage in the middle of a battle, with screams and death and bodies moving here and there, being scared and jostled by people passing may forget a routine spell because of all the stressors going on. Meanwhile, a seasoned warrior who is a lowly caster may be able to cast off a blind spell or another low level spell because he is not as stressed.
Spellcraft, as a focus, is VERY VERY difficult and time consuming. ANY thing a character does that is not devoting time and energy to their magic is taking away their ability to create magic.
Magical literature – There are two types of magical literature: books and scrolls (and scrollbooks). Books are only for study and committing to memory. Reading a book takes an immense amount of concentration, it's not like reading a map Additionally, higher level spells require certain OTHER spells to be cast or active to LEARN the spell sought. Because of this, you cannot just read a book in combat and cast spells. You must sit down, focus and concentrate for minutes to days depending on the level of the spell. Scrolls (or scroll books) are different. The concentration and effort and magic are put in BEFORE hand. These are VERY expensive, and generally require 10 times the amount of resources than it would to LEARN the spell. But the reason is that you can unleash a devastating spell simply by reading the scroll. Immediately after casting, the scroll or page of a scroll book will crumble or burn or turn to dust. One and done.
Deities– there are gods/deities in this world, and they are referred to as Ascended. Ascended will be classified in a few ways.
First and most vaguely they will have "nature (tendencies)." Nature is good, neutral or evil. Tendencies will be more vague, but also more defining (lawful, chaotic, neutral and indentured). ----------
Next, Ascended have an "essence" that they can bestow onto physical items of the world. While this is a form of ENCHANTMENT, it differs from an item that is magically instilled. This is extremely rare, extremely prized and I WILL BE THE ONLY PERSON TO APPROVE IF YOUR CHARACTER OWNS ONE. If they do, there better be one HELLUVA background story. And I want to KNOW it. Whether you post it or not, whatever, but it's not going to be "I'll come up with it later Az!"
Any item enchanted or blessed by a deity is marked with a Ascension Stamp, which will be comprised of a metal and a jewel (both will be the selected jewel and metal of that Ascended). ANY person KNOWINGLY handling a blessed item not intended for them is subject instantly opening a door for that deity to vent it's rage and fury. If the person didn't know it was intended, it will be awkward feeling (maybe heavy, or burn or itch or something to make the person get rid of it) and the deity will send a disciple to get it at some point. Just like magically enchanted items, they have "charges" or sorts and must be replenished in a way fitting the god and their personality (prayer, blood, work, are a few basic ways).
All deities also have the ability to lend aid to their champions via spells. While these spells are not normally "powerful" they are generally unique and have something to do with the nature and demeanor of the Ascended. Each deity has ONE spell to bestow and any person can only WIELD ONE ENCHANTED ITEM OR SPELL of ONE ASCENDED. Period.
ANY being on this world is mortal, as this is the
This means a few things: first, you can kill a god. Also, gods have very little power here, but they do have unparalleled influence. They cannot directly influence the world but can do so indirectly. The gods can bestow blessings, but these are very limited. They reside on the Plane of Ascension....
One advantage to worshiping gods is that certain spells are available to characters based on IF they worship a god. However, the price for that is that you must strictly adhere to whatever ideals those gods choose, and straying from that means the god can rebuke those abilities at any moment. These spells must be learned like any spell, but must also be EARNED.
Gods can also bestow blessings on weapons, but these blessings are finite (think charges) and some may be powered up, some may not. The manner of charging depends on the god and also the nature of the enchantment (stronger abilities will require a LOT more to replenish abilities).
Now with enchanted items, these are very limited because essentially gods are putting their essence into the item. So based on the power and the amount of items, a god can be killed. Think of it like a good could make one strong weapon, or 50 rings with minor abilities (very vague idea of how it works).
Currency: Steel, gold, silver and bronze (highest to lowest).
Language: Almost ALL races and societies teach "common" but many races and society speak their own language.
Seasons: A typical seasonal cycle in this world is a 12-18 month winter, a 6-9 month spring and fall and a 8-12 month summer. However, a year is still 12 months.
Racism: All major cities may experience racism, but it is not legal and is heavily frowned upon. However, small towns and villages are not subject to laws that regulate those things, so it's not uncommon for those of a race outside certain towns to be received harshly.
Tech level: this would be medeival based in terms of tech. Some mechanical things (gears, trebuchets, water systems).
Atmosphere: The closer you get towards water, the more relaxed the areas tend to be. They also tend to shift towards trade where as the further inland you go, it is less about trading and more about work and the people tend to be less "big city" and more hard.
Most kingdoms do not trust one another, at least the governments and large cities. They are in constant disputes over trade and territory and sometimes close to war, although OPEN war is very rare. UPA: Unified Port Authority is an organization that monitors port trade and also patrols the open waters against piracy and violation of at-sea law. To keep things fair, all of the 5 kingdoms provide the exact number of every position available. Every ships crew has the same number of all positions from each kingdom. To further the absolute neutrality, ANY time ANY person is suspected, investigating and found guilty of violating a UPA article to the favor of their country, that country will be sanctioned. At the same time, any time a person makes such accusations, if the accuser is found to be incorrect or it was a ploy, THAT country will be sanctioned.
Church of Kiros: This is a Sect of almost kult like status throughout the peninsula. While they do not represent any particular god, they focus more on themselves and pushing their own agenda. They are ran by a Grand Bishop who is rarely seen outside of the High Church. While they are not large persay, they are widespread and powerful and most members operate behind a veil of secrecy.
While The Church is not necessarily evil, they are self serving and will do whatever it takes to protect itself, it's members and it's agenda. Again, the church isn't affiliated with any god, but they DO have members who are clergy from other temples. The Church offers a great many services, spiritual and otherwise. They are allowed to marry individuals, they offer advice and counseling and help communities in need. Additionally, they offer merchants, caravans and families armed escort when moving or relocating.
Marcurio Deltran (NPC. The Merchant. Also the coinsman.)
Marcurio is a wealthy merchant of the city of Arbich. He was known to regularly send trade caravans throughout the realm where most merchants thought it was a waste of resources. Additionally, he was known to be a genuinely good and honest person, whereas most merchants of the guild were cut throats and backstabbers.
While he does have large compounds and eats well, he does not use his wealth ostentatiously, and he is very humble. The only time he used money excessively was on the security of hischildren, almost always having them travel anywhere with at least a small handful of soldiers, and even sometimes having the walk in the crowds just to make sure his kids were safe.
While many other merchants used money to bribe, or to weaken enemies or lessen their credibility, Marcurio used his to help people, support churches and temples (even of gods he did not worship) and help with the upkeep of the city. Because of this, other merchants had difficulty utilizing smear campaigns, or finding enemies of his.
He is a human male of 61 years old and in spite of his age, he is very well off physically and exceptionally sharp mentally, shrewd and observant.
He sent his daughter Dahlaholtrah with his own brother and nephew on a trade caravan not far from the city at the behest of his family. He sent double the guard of a typical caravan to that area. To his horror, he found out that the caravan and the village of Small Haven were both attacked and only one man survived, only to die of his wounds hours after returning to Arbich.
Immediately, Marcurio thought it was a scheme of some rival merchant, but when he heard that the dead soldier mentioned goblins and giants, he didn't know what to do. Sitting down at council with his most trusted friends and advisors, it was decided that putting together a group of adventurers (or mercenaries…) was the best idea.
Traynt Dun'Goro (NPC. The Merchant's advisor. Priest.)
Traynt is a priest of the Ascended of Service and Knowledge, Hothradak. As a priest of Hothradak, he was sent to assist someone in need. They would lend spiritual guidance as well as advice, and were generally tailored to the needs of the individual. Not their professions, but more of what they lacked.
He was sent to assist Marcurio at the merchant's request and enjoys his company and has for many years, finding it easier to aid Marcurio because he wasn't a typical merchant, nor was he always doing things that obstructed any help Traynt offered. Traynt is a practiced mage, but most of his spells, if not all, are resourceful and have a purpose and not offensive. He is a human but larger and more broad than most. Some suspect he has a hint of Ork blood in him, but it is only because of his size.
He has been in the service of Marcurio for over 10 years now and he himself is 37, but wise beyond his years.
Ateo: (NPC for the moment. Deltron head of Security.)
Known only as Ateo, the warrior showed up and asked to personally see Marcurio Deltran one day 12 years ago. After a brief display of swordsmanship, he was immediately hired as the families master at arms, training it's guards and warriors and family in everything from basic martial arts to armed combat.
Ateo eventually gained more trust in the family and was promoted to the Head of Security for the Deltran family, still retaining his position as MaA. He had a wife and 2 kids, but both were lost years ago to the sea plague that struck the city. The Deltran's were horrified and did what they could and offered more, but Ateo was not outwardly affected much and after a few days of grieving, returned to work.
It was noted that several changes occurred. First, Ateo was no longer AS quiet and isolated as he was prior. He opened up and chatted on occasion where before, he was vague and dismissive, and focused only on his job. Additionally, he took to Marcurio's daughter, an 8 year old named Dahlaholtrah and while over the first years of his service he did ANYTHING to ignore her or stay away, something in him changed and he began speaking with her and actually letting her accompany him on the families grounds. Eventually, she started calling him "Sir Ateo" and eventually it stuck throughout the house and everyone, save Marcurio called him "Sir Ateo."
The only time he reverts back to his old, insulated self is when anyone asks about his past, and anyone in the Deltran household know not to ask and warn others in turn who do not know him. It is not done out of fear, just out or respect as Ateo is now viewed as a member of the house.
Ateo is a fanatic in terms of his work, always going over Marcurio's going ons in detail, plotting security and changing routes and putting out plainly clothed guards, even having other step in as substitutes for him if he feels it necessary. No one has questioned his word in over 4 years, when during the Fall Fish Riots ripped through the city. Marcurio refused to lock himself or his family in a locked, barricaded hold-out. Ateo immediately picked him up, very roughly, and carried him into the cellar, telling his family to do the same or be met with the same result. Appalled and angry, Marcurio told him the moment they got out, Ateo's service was done.
That was before the night was over, a night that had the compound over run by pirates and looters, people looking for blood and riches. Ateo led 19 other guards around, patrolling the merchant's family compound. Half of the buildings were burned, and only 2 guards lived through the end of the night, but countless bodies of pirates and ill-intentioned men were scattered throughout the compound, numbering between 60 and 70. Neither of the guards would speak to anyone about what happened that night, the only thing they would divulge is that 3 guards tried fleeing before the enemies even entered, and Ateo cut them down himself. Since then, the 2 surviving guards (Thom and Yurislav) have served the Deltran household almost as faithfully as Ateo.
It is guessed that Ateo is about 38 years old.
Fitch (Played by Azseth)
Name: Garfitchadrasah "Fitch" Stonecleaver. Class: Ebon Crusader (Paladin class that use disease and dark magic in place of holy and light, more below). Race: Half ogre, half ork (eerkro). Heights: 7'6". Weights: 385 lbs. Alignment: Neutral (chaotic). Weapons and armor: In battle, Fitch fights with a mix of mainly mail with pieces of plates (boots, shin guards, pants and gauntlets) mixed in. At almost 7 feet, Fitch is small for most ogres, but he is broader than most and less lanky. He fights with a large bastard sword (a large two handed sword to most non-ogres) a black oak and iron banded shield. Occasionally he will keep the shield on his back and use the sword and a large jagged dirk. His helmet is plate and chain, not covering much of his face.
Appearance: Fitch is born of an ogre father and ork mother who were both cast out of their respective tribes when it was discovered. He’s tall and stocky. He has two small bone protrusions that almost appear to be tusks of sorts. His eyes are a deep green and his skin is grey with a tinge of green. He’s very somber, dour and quiet, he’ll almost never smile.
Between his size, his demeanor and his usual silence, he is often though to be trying to intimidate, often thought to be evil or brooding. While Fitch is not generally positive, he is not evil or malicious and any intimidation is just coincidental.
However, he is very harsh in his comments in regards to weak people and those who are not willing to fight for things that he sees worth fighting for. Fitch is very two sided sometimes in his beliefs and the things he says, but bases that on the fact that life is not as simple, and nothing at any point is absolute.
History: Surviving in the wild, alone was very tough for his parents, and most of the time his mother spent fishing for food while his father tended to the camp and occasionally took minor work to as a bodyguard or providing safe passage for people in need.
At one point, his father was wounded in a goblin raid and on his deathbed, asked his mother to turn him over to the Temple of Go’Shirik. Go’Shirik is the deity of darkness, night and merciful death. Due to his association with darkness in general, and death, Go’Shirik is generally thought to be a god of evil, but he is actually very neutral. Paladin’s trained in the name of Go’Shirik are called Ebon Crusaders.
Go’ Shirik is often misunderstood by any who do not worship him or take the time to understand him. His association with death, albeit merciful, and darkness and night are often misconstrued as evil. In reality, this deity is one who represents neutrality and rarely gets involved in good versus evil directly. Because of this, his alignment is Neutral (lawful), although his followers will a neutral and of different tendencies.
However, Crusaders have been known to involve themselves in situations where either a good or evil force needed to be kept in check, if it was getting too powerful.
Ebon Champions are the legions of Go’Shirik and most people do not realize that a Champions takes many forms (most only associate them with Crusaders) and serves many functions, from priest, to warrior to teacher. Although most Champions are dedicated to their calling only, many have other occupations or roles in society on top of it.
While Champions come in many forms, there is one that stands out to most when mentioned: the Crusader. These are paladins serve the legions. They have a unique place among Champions in that they are to go out and spread the word of Go’Shirik through feats of honor, usually in battle. A Crusader, in the name of neutrality, is free to take up whatever cause they deem fit, good, evil or indifferent so long as that cause is not in the name of another deity. Most focus on melee combat and are heavily armored, but also mix in a variety of spells at the Crusader’s discretion. Their armor is all similar: dull, relatively nondescript, but it looks blackish grey and instead of having a shine, it appear to be dull or marred in spite of the fact that they are well maintained and smooth.
There are then the Priests, whose main duties entail putting those in need of a clean, painless death down and also to spread the word of Go’Shirik in order to recruit members. They do not preach or hold masses, they approach individuals, or are approached. A Priest will almost NEVER administer death to anyone who do not ask or have a loved one ask for a death. The exceptions are individuals who may be dead soon and are suffering (i.e. a long traveler stabbed by bandits and left for dead, but is delirious) but no one is around to make a decision. They are almost always wearing dull gray robes.
Then there are Acolytes whose jobs are very wide. It may be assisting a priest, or copying books in the temple to maintaining temples in large cities. They may be dressed in robes similar to Priests or normal clothing, since they may not always be performing the duties (unlike a Priest or Crusader who are considered to be always on duty).
From that point on he was raised in an Ebon Temple and excelled under the teaching, specifically combat. Eventually, he went to find his mother and their little shack was gone. He never seen her again, had no idea where she went and he never looked for her.
Since then, he’s been out doing as he saw fit for his god, with his sword or with his prayer, on the battlefield or in isolated villages.
Crusaders have a plethora of minor spells involving diseases and illness, including cleanses and spread rots, but these spells are not listed as they are not really combat oriented or “major” spells.
Fear – (Apprentice level) Called “Grip of Death” to a Crusader, it’s similar to most fears except that it doesn’t make one flee. Unhindered and at maximum affect, it will make the victim freeze with fear, unable to move or react. Their mind also ceases to be able to process thoughts and focus. When mitigated or not fully successful, it can do anything from stun a person, make them momentarily lose all thought or make them drop what’s in their hands.
Reagents: Bone powder.
Spoken words: Ohyundar mogara.
Silence – (Intermediate level) Called “Go’Shirik’s Will.” Simple in terms of it’s purpose, but considerably more complex in terms of casting, this is a spell that ceases all sound in an 8’ area centered on a desired spot. This spell is meant to counter casters, but can also be used on an ally to aid stealth.
Reagents: Blood and silver (any form of silver).
Spoken words: Go’Shirik mah harik haito et mustaht.
Ward/barrier cleave – (Intermediate spell). “Charge of the Crusader.” This spell is specifically meant to counter a spell or ward that blocks PHYSICAL damage. That means that a punch, sword strike, arrow etc has a change to penetrate any physical ward cast on a person or object.
Reagents – None, but a significant amount of physical drain comes with this spell.
Spoken words – AAH AAAAH AAAAH MOOT!
Essence link – (Intermediate spell). “The Black Phoenix.” This is a dangerous spell and most casters used it ONE TIME, when they were training. This spell will instantly replenish energy, removing a massive amount of physical and mental drain. The spell is simple to cast but extremely difficult to perform. The short incantation must be said aloud and at an exact moment, the caster must pierce the heart of a living being. If too late, too early or if the heart is missed, depending on the casters current drain and health will fall down, fully drained, or possible fall into a coma or even die instantly.
Reagents – a human heart.
Spoken words – strayak oont strayak warek. Un’STRAYAK!
Decay – (Novice spell). “The kiss.” A spell not really meant for combat, but able to be utilized during a battle except the vocal means to produce it are longer than most. This spell will decay any non-living item. The longer the spell is recited, the more decay occurs. So while a tree could not be a target, a door or wooden shield could. This is more geared towards removing obstacles.
Reagents: Any form of flesh.
Spoken words. The words are more of a ballad and can be stopped at any moment. The further into the song that the caster goes, the more the drain increases, exponentially.
Armor Ward – (Apprentice spell). “Go’Shirik’s embrace.” This is a ward that protects a target from non-magical damage or force. The caster can adjust the duration or level based on the inflection of the final word, which also affects the amount of mental drain. While it does not protect from “magic,” magically created things (fire, lightening or acid for example) that are NOT magical are still repelled.
Reagent: Bloody cloth.
Spoken words: Aktuum galo GYUM!
Acidic Shield (novice spell). “The last laugh.” This spell turns the bands of his shield into a highly volatile acid that clings to whatever touches it (hopefully an enemies weapon or body). This only lasts a few seconds but the acid spreads, eating anything until it either dilutes or there is nothing more to dissolve.
Reagent: rust and a shield.
Spoken words: Yego fa fas fasto.
Earthen Behemoth (experienced spell). “To ashes.” This spell raises a giant made from whatever is available in the immediate area: dirt, rocks, metals, bodies, trees. This spell is triggered by the caster saying a spirit’s name. At this point, the caster must cease EVERYTHING and focus entirely on controlling the Behemoth. They cannot move. They see through the eyes of the Behemoth the entire time. If the caster waivers, or is killed or just decides to break the focus before saying the spirit’s name again to dismiss it, then the Behemoth becomes unchained, free to act in it’s nature. And that nature is always with violence in response to being ripped from it’s only plane. Unchained Behemoths are a devastating force of nature and can lay waste to large cities at times. Furthermore, the physical drain of this is immense. Generally, at least 3 people plus the caster need to be physically linked (skin contact) to cast. At that point, the drain continues for the duration of the Behemoth’s activity. The more people linked, the more the drain is shared and the longer one can keep the Behemoth active and chained. Once unchained, the FIRST target of the Behemoth’s rage is the caster, and then those linked.
Reagent: Glass powder and a copper coin.
Spoken words: Rise “spirit’s name.”
Contagious fever – (novice spell) – “The scourge.” This spell targets one individual and spreads quickly to anyone within minutes as an airborne virus. The fever is only mild to high, but over time, it can decimate or debilitate an entire army or city. This is rarely fatal and only kills those who are already on the verge of death. The fever spreads and is felt for about 2 hours then ceases. This spell does not discriminate, friend and foe alike will be affected.
Reagent: human hair.
Spoken words: Youfa atu afu agoo.
Magic Nova – (experienced spell) – “Nightfall.” This is a nova type spell that is unleashed at a center point and forces it’s way out, generally to about 30 feet. The further from the center, the weaker the impact. This spell’s damage is dark magic. Additionally, after the magic damage radius, a small magic wave continues on for another 30 feet, causing a quick and sudden bout of nausea and sometimes vomiting. On top of the rarity of obsidian, this spell also is accompanied by an vast amount of physical and mental drain.
Reagent: obsidian shards.
Words: Go’Shirik. HALP!
Attitude: As mentioned, Fitch is quite and not very jovial. He’s loyal to people as long as there is a common goal, and while he is not untrustworthy, he will generally part ways once whatever mission he is on is accomplished. He has no need for friends or companions, so he does not seek them, but he will travel with people who’s goals mirror his own, or if the destination is the same.
While he does not look down on people who can NOT defend themselves, he loathes those who will not even try to defend themselves. At the same time however, he protects those cannot fight for themselves vehemently.
In battle, Fitch will fit in as needed, which somewhat contradicts his fighting style. In terms of melee, he is ferocious and full of rage, swinging sword and shield and casting an occasional spell. He walks a delicate line in terms of his rage, some say it’s the violent mix of his two bloodlines, and will let rage fill him just to the point he does not lose control.
Even amongst other Crusaders and other orders and deities, and throughout the realm, Fitch’s battle prowess is talked about and known.
However, if the need arises, he is more than willing to sit back and unleash spells and support those he is fighting with. He is very focused and collected, however, regardless of the situation, Fitch is VERY difficult to control in that, while he’s not prone to be destructive or hurt his own people, he doesn’t believe most people earned the right to be considered his “leader” and while he will almost always listen to a plan out of respect, he is apt to go astray if he feels it necessary.
Benjamin (played by Azseth)
Name: Benjamin (Ben, BJ, Bennie) Leedak. Class: Spellsword (A swordsman with several spells). Race: Human. Heights: 5’11”". Weights: 180 lbs. Age: 36 Alignment: Good (chaotic). Weapons and armor: Benjamin fights in plain, tan colored leather armor with bits of mail. He does not fight with a shield ever. On his left wrist he has a small, mechanical repeating crossbow activated by his pinky finger with a cartridge holding 9 bolts. He generally carries at least one spare cartridge on him.
He wields a beautifully crafted longsword in his right hand and then a foot and a half long dagger in his other. His fighting style has two facets, one being aggressive, offensive based and the other is a somewhat defensive orientated skillset that involved more counter-strikes and parries.
He then has 6 magically enchanted daggers on each side of his body armor (12 total). These daggers have a “ward breaker” spell imbued into them. So if a target has a PHYSICAL ward bubble on it, the dagger will shatter it and fall to the ground useless, it’s charge drained, OR if there is ANY other ward on it that doesn’t stop physical penetration, the dagger will ABSORB the ward and whatever target it hits after will do the wards spell protection instead as damage (so if there is a fire ward on a target, the dagger absorbs the ward and then unleashes fire damage once it hits).
Benjamin is also extremely accomplished in several forms of karate, shanto kick boxing and Get Yerri (boxing).
Very unique about Benjamin: he fights just as well in absolute darkness as he does in the light.
Standing 5’11” and dressed in nondescript armor, there is nothing that is very noticeable about Benjamin immediately. He has long black hair that is usually kept in a top knot with loose strands hanging. However, prior to combat he meticulously puts it back and tight. His eyes are black. In and out of combat, he is a different person: swords sheathed, he is happy go lucky and joking. In combat, he is an ice cold killer. History: Over 3 years ago, Benjamin was living a lavish, playboy type of life. His family are made up of rich traders and he was afforded everything he could have wanted, and he took advantage of it. He loved to fight and he loved to fuck. And that’s what he did. He took advantage of the families master at arms and learned common sword fighting, but wasn’t happy with that. He soon took martial arts training and other combat training over the years, hiring any master he could. And he drank and fucked.
He was known through his birthplace for what he was and people loved him. He was always up something, but never anything bad, never anything that hurt anyone. He would fight in taverns, sometimes losing but usually winning, then he’d buy the bar drinks and all was well. He even rode out with patrols when necessary, never taking it seriously but always coming home from the skirmishes.
Then one day, Benjamin was drinking heavily and there was an altercation with a man who would not accept a drink that Benjamin offered him, the man stated he didn’t drink. Words were exchanged and Benjamin bullied the man physically. Eventually guards were called and in the ensuing fight, Benjamin wounded 5 guards and 3 people in the tavern who attempted to subdue him. Five of those wounded would have been fatal had pair of Bringers walked into the tavern. Seeing what had happened, the senior of the two moved to ask Benjamin to lay down his arms and turn himself in and he to was stabbed fatally. When the second Bringer stepped forward, it wasn't to ask or try to get Benjamin to lay down his arms.
Benjamin was a seasoned warrior, was trained in several martial arts and a handful of combat practices. However, he was bested easily and without question. As Benjamin lie unconscious, the Bringer leaned down, healed his wounded companion and together they proceeded to cast major healing rituals on all wounded risking their own lives to save the injured. After that, refusing rest and aid, the two quietly bound Benjamin and carried him off to one of their temples.
His family didn't ask for him back, didn’t fight the temple. They heard what he had done, then knew the nature and past history of the Temple of Setveo, and when a carrier explained what happened, there was little they could have done even if they wanted to.
For over a year, he never left the temple grounds. When he did, he was a changed man and a Bringer of Justice. He would be tasked to wander and just as every other before him, bring justice whenever and wherever he saw fit. His first stop was home however and his family was never more proud of him.
(set-vee-oh), the deity of justice, truth and civilization. Setveo is sometimes harsh, as justice may be. He is neutral (good) and his metaphorical left hand are called the Bringers, or Bringers of Justice. They help those in need, protect those needing protection and fight for and dispense justice wherever they go.
Bringers are the embodiment of Setveo, and as thus are taught to dispense justice by any means necessary—even to fight and kill.
Setveo and his people are ruled, at the highest level, by the understanding that there is a duality of man. Nothing is absolute. Murder isn’t always evil. Lending aid isn’t always good.
Metal: Iron or copper.
Commune – (not applicable) A simple technique, but not really a spell. At least once a day, Benjamin has to stop and meditate, communicating with Setveo. It balances him and allows him to stay in good graces with his order. Any time he issues justice in the name of Setveo, this is the time for him to reflect and commune and either receive the praise or chiding of Setveo.
Sheer – (Apprentice level) A unique spell that takes much focus and does a medium form of physical drain. When unsheathing his weapon upon the final word, a wave of focused physical and sonic energy is sent forth, cutting through almost any surface. This spell is NOT retainable and must be recommitted to memory after casting.
Reagents: Copper metal
Words: Armor or shield cannot stop his hand!
Flash – (apprentice spell) This spell very simply creates a flash of light, disorientating any within 2 feet and blinding those whose eyes are not closed.
Word – TRO!
Increase agility – (apprentice spell) When cast, depending on the inflection of the last word, the caster will increase their speed and reaction time. This causes mental drain which increases more as time progresses.
Reagents – leather.
Words – Justice is swift.
Divine Smite – (elite Ascended spell) This is a unique ability only usable by champions of Setveo. Any person who is exceptionally foul or evil and who Setveo deems should be judged by his own hand are able to be targeted by Divine Smite. This is a simple attack with a sword that will cleave any armor, shield, spell or ward. This ability will not miss, and it is not used at the caster discretion. It is an ultimate blessing and judgment that the caster does not question when given The Sign. This technique has not been used or witnessed by anyone currently alive.
There are some that claim there are several other innate powers available to Benjamin, as he is the crowned champion of Setveo, but nothing has been witnessed or spoken of by Benjamin.
Attitude: Benjamin is very social, but very awkward. He almost NEVER looks at a person he addresses, and even more rarely looks a person in the eye. However there is no submissive air or lack of confidence about him as he will smile and drink and laugh and poke fun at comrades. It’s just a weird habit.
He doesn’t have many friends, but he has many acquaintances from his travels and is known as a good friend and companion. He doesn’t keep much on his person in terms of wealth and is known to give anything he does accrue to anyone who needs it.
In combat he is fierce and focused. When issuing justice, he is calm and steadfast and unwaivering.
Dieties and Beliefs: Nazgrul acknowledges the existence of Gods but does not actively worship them. He holds generally good opinions of them but despises Evil Gods like Gruumsh, the Chaotic Evil God of Slaughter and pillaging favored by the Bloodaxe tribe.
Skills and Linguistics list:
Languages spoken: Common, Orkish
You are exceptionally adept at balancing, and performing amazing feats of acrobatics such as doing somersaults and flips.
You are exceptionally strong and fit, able to perform feats of athletics such as swimming or traveling long distances as well as climbing.
You are experienced at enduring pain and extreme weather conditions such as blizzards and sandstorms.
You are learned in the ways of observation, often detecting people's emotions and thoughts in conversation and detecting their motives.
You are learned in using your senses, able to listen and hear exceptionally well when required and can find your way around in the dark quite well. You notice things that are not often seen like trip wire and traps.
You are learned in the ways of moving about unseen and unheard.
You have a basic knowledge of religion.
Weapons and armor: Nazgrul is skilled with his staff and bare hands. He fights unarmored Fighting style: Nazgrul practices Ataru and Shien, two fighting styles of the Henshin order.
-Ataru, Way of the Shrike:
Ataru focuses on mobile, aggressive, acrobatic combat. The user channels his inner energy called "Ki" to perform amazing feats of acrobatics, seeking to subdue the enemy as quickly as possible through a short burst of furious blows. However, users risk the expenditure of too much energy through prolonged use. Because of this, practitioners are expected to be extremely fit and have a high amount of stamina as well as dexterity.
-Shien, Way of the Dragon:
Shien focuses on brutal blows made with the user's natural strength. Using their physical strength, users are able to stand toe to toe with heavily armed opponents and hold their own. Shien is not as mobile as Ataru and will focus on countering opponents blows for defense as well as counter attacking. Shien also heavily utilizes unbalancing strikes to trip up their opponents. Practitioners are expected to have a high strength to be able to use the form effectively.
Ki Ability List:
The Nature of Ki:
Ki is a unique resource similar to the mental capabilities of a spell caster's mind. Loosely translated, Ki means "energy". However, unlike spell casters who rely on only mental capabilities, Ki requires both mental AND physical capabilities. For example, it takes mental concentration to "summon" Ki, but you can not summon Ki if none exists in the first place. Thus using Ki requires a balance between body and mind.
Ki can only be used when a monk is "centered" meaning the monk is free of negative emotions and unarmored and unencumbered. If a monk has negative emotions, then his ability to use Ki is lessened. For example, an angry monk will not be able to perform abilities that require Ki.
However there are rogue monks that have mastered the use of negative emotions to empower their Ki. Negative emotions by itself is like a sledgehammer, clumsy and unwieldy. But with focus, a monk can form that "sledgehammer" of negative emotion into the point of a spear in a state of "passive aggressive". This negative Ki may give a monk more physical power, but it clouds his/ or her judgement, making the monk more likely to kill and maim. For this reason, using Negative Ki is strictly forbidden in the Henshin order and is strongly frowned upon. Users are asked to change their ways or thrown out of the order if they refuse. Monks who use Negative Ki are called "Dark Monks".
While centered, monks have a higher chance to avoid area of affect spells and area of affect attacks.
-Still Mind (Passive):
While centered, monks have a serene air around them and are not as affected by harmful auras (Such as an aura of fear) that target the mind. monks will be more spells and enhancements that target the mind but are not completely immune from them.
-Fast Movement (Novice):
With concentration and while being unarmored and unencumbered, a monk may run with more agility than what is physically possible for them.
-Ki Strike (intermediate):
A monk can empower his/ or her strike with ki, allowing them to harden their fist/feet/other body part and strike objects with immense force. Ki strike can only be for one powerful blow.
-Abundant Step (Intermediate):
A monk can, with great concentration, leap amazing heights and distances.
-Slow Fall (Intermediate):
With concentration, a monk may fall great heights with little damage to themselves. This chance of taking no damage decreases as the monk falls from greater heights. For example, a fall from 20 feet up will not harm a monk, but a fall from 10,000 feet in the air will kill a monk, ki or not. Slow fall does not actually "slow" your falls.
-Wholeness of Body (Intermediate):
With concentration, a monk can enter a meditative state and mend minor scrapes and bruises slowly over time. The monk may only do this when not in battle or in a disruptive environment. Wholeness of body only mends minor wounds and will not close a major wound like a sword cut or stab wound.
*Note: This List is only of the abilities that Nazgrul has mastered. More abilities are available but Nazgrul has not successfully learned or mastered them yet.
Magic level: None (See Ki above)
His skin tone is that of a human, though he has inherited physical traits from his Ork blood that include, above average strength as well as pronounced lower canines.
Nazgrul, despite his physical appearance, is kind hearted and has an extreme dislike for killing. He will often try to seek a diplomatic approach first before fighting and even after defeating opponents, Nazgrul will try to be kind to them. Nazgrul practices meditation and rises each morning to practice his martial art forms. He has all but mastered his inner emotions and will try to keep negative emotions in check. However, if severely challenged or wronged (perhaps witnessing an ally kill innocents) Nazgrul will have a hard time to control his anger and the barbarian training of his youth will break through.
A child is a precious thing. It is usually the product of it's parents love and passion for each other...
However this was not the case for Nazgrul...
His mother, Selene, was a human, the eldest daughter of a wealthy merchant. His father? Thralcrag An Orkish warrior of the Blood axe tribe. It was not on a romantic evening at the garden that Nazgrul's parents met. No, it was during a surprise raid on his mother's town, where his father stormed into Selene's mansion. After slaughtering her father, brother, and mother, Thralcrag then forced himself onto Selene, impregnating her.
Vulnerable and emotionally broken, Selene was taken as a slave back to the Blood Axe village, where nine months later, she gave birth to Nazgrul.
The world Nazgrul grew up in was a violent one. His mother was beaten regularly by his father and the other tribesman. He himself did not fare much better, the other Orks jeered and made fun of him constantly, calling him, "Half-Blood," and "Man Flesh." The only thing expected out of Nazgrul was to grow into a warrior and die. Thus, he was trained in the arts of war from an early age despite his reluctance. His own father often fought him, teaching him to use his rage, and hatred of him to give him strength. Rage, hatred, anger, this is how an Orkish warrior was supposed to fight. To use his aggressive emotions against others. Nazgrul was reluctant to do so, and as a consequence was beat even harder.
At the age of sixteen, his father finally beat his mother to death in a drunken rage. Horrified and angered, Nazgrul attacked his father, however he was defeated. Seeing the improvement in how his son fought, Thralcrag brought him along on the next raid.
Still bitter over his mother's death, Nazgrul attacked the village with a vengeance, imagining each blow of his sword as a blow against his father. Each decapitation and each kill, he imagined his father's body laying on the ground. It wasn't until his vision cleared of his rage did he realize to his horror that he had slaughtered a whole human family, down to the last child. With the sound of pillaging still outside, Nazgrul ran. He ran for three days and three nights, not caring where he went, as long as it was away from his father and the scene of the massacre.
This was how Nazgrul was found on the steps of the Henshin monastery, exhausted, starved, and half alive. The monks took him in and nurtured him back to health. It was here that Nazgrul decided, he wanted peace from the violence, solace from his deeds. The monks offered everything that he could ever want.
It was here that his training began.
The Henshin are an ancient order of monks dedicated to the pursuit of enlightenment. They do not believe in killing, but practice martial arts as a non-lethal way of self defense. The Henshin order accepts people of all walks of life and race, no matter their past. In fact Nazgrul's master, Eledrin, was an Elf.
Most monks do not eat meat, however Nazgrul's Orkish ancestry makes it impossible for him to remain strictly vegan without being malnourished.
The Henshin believe in keeping themselves free of negative emotion and use a resource called "Ki" to empower abilities. They practice Seven Forms of combat (which are listed below) and only use simple weapons.
Three Section Staff
Tambo (Short Club like Sticks, Often used in the same way as swords)
The Seven Forms of Combat:
-Shii-Cho, Way of the Phoenix:
Focus: Striking, Ki use
Shii-Cho is the most basic form of Martial Arts combat in the Henshin order. It was the first form of combat ever developed and as such is one of the first forms learned by monks. It is a traditional form and is viewed as obsolete by many monks. However monk disciples are still required to learn it and usually only Masters and Grandmasters master it or learn it in depth. Shii-Cho has a heavy focus on Ki and consists mainly of slow, precise strikes powered by Ki. Practicing Shii-Cho in the morning is a common way for monks to meditate and center themselves.
-Makashi, Way of the Crane:
Focus: Joint locks, pushing, submission holds, disarmament
Makashi is a form often admired for it's elegance. It emphasizes simple footwork, light contact, and using the opponents strength against them. Makashi is a favorite among monks with minimal physical strength due to it's nature. It does not require a lot of energy to use and is, according to practitioners, quite relaxing. Makashi is the favored form of Nazgrul's Master, Eledrin.
-Soresu, Way of the Tortoise:
Focus: Grappling, throwing, heavy defense, disarmament
Soresu is a form that has a heavy focus in defense, practitioners are often able to parry arrows right out of the air with their bare hands. Soresu is a highly immobile form and practitioners are often taught to "imitate stone". Practitioners are highly resistant to physical harm due to continuous practice, and are also very patient as to subdue an opponent requires waiting for them to make the first blow.
-Ataru, Way of the Shrike:
Focus: Acrobatics, striking
Ataru focuses on mobile, aggressive, acrobatic combat. The user channels his inner energy called "Ki" to perform amazing feats of acrobatics, seeking to subdue the enemy as quickly as possible through a short burst of furious blows. However, users risk the expenditure of too much energy through prolonged use. Because of this, practitioners are expected to be extremely fit and have a high amount of stamina as well as dexterity.
-Shien, Way of the Dragon:
Focus: Striking, counter attacks, trips
Shien focuses on brutal blows made with the user's natural strength. Using their physical strength, users are able to stand toe to toe with heavily armed opponents and hold their own. Shien is not as mobile as Ataru and will focus on countering opponents blows for defense as well as counter attacking. Shien also heavily utilizes unbalancing strikes to trip up their opponents. Practitioners are expected to have a high strength to be able to use the form effectively.
-Niman, Way of the Monkey:
Focus: Pressure points, acrobatics
Niman is similar to Ataru in the way of agility and acrobatic combat. However, unlike Ataru which focuses on strikes, Niman focuses on hitting pressure points in the body. Practitioners can usually paralyze an opponent into submission or render their limbs numb and inoperable. None of the damage is permanent however, and opponents will recover in time, but even so, masters of Niman are a force to be reckoned with.
-Vaapad, Way of the Dire Wolf:
Focus: Heavy focus on striking
Vaapad is a form that puts heavy focus on striking. Practitioners often utilize strikes not often used by other forms such as the knees, shins, forearms, wrists, and even the head. Practitioners often have extremely hard bones and are required to have a high strength to be able to use it effectively. Due to it's highly aggressive nature and the fact that it was developed by a monk gone rogue, The Henshin Council frowns upon it's practice and disciples must obtain special permission to practice and learn it. Vaapad has a high probability to maim or kill it's opponents.
Temer (played by Terminal)
Name: Temer Class: Mortificator - Unarmed class, similar to Monks. Mortificators usually have several magical abilities focused on the dead, usually with assistance from Divine entities. They serve as a mix between Clerics and Crusaders for the purposes of whatever deity grants them their power, enforcing that deity's will upon the mortal plane. Race: Human Age: 33 Height: 6'1" Weight: 150 Pounds Weaponry and Armor: Temer is armed merely with two long gauntlets that reach nearly up to his shoulders, with sharp spade-like protrusions jutting from the dorsar side of the hands. They serve as primitive armor and give him some cutting and stabbing power - he is not accustomed with other forms of armor and would not be able to fight effectively using anything else. Appearance: Wears simple blue and brown robes and pants over his lower body, and is bare chested with a pair of shoulder-length plate-metal gauntlets inscribed with esoteric etchings. Has raven but greying hair, and two glass eyes (but still seems to see just fine, oddly enough). Alignment: True Neutral with Lawful Evil Tendencies
Temer has an excellent if somewhat morbid sense of humor, and has a weakness for terrible jokes that are not actually funny. He has a cheery disposition and is quick to find the silver-lining for almost any situation. He rarely complains about anything, and enjoys working with his hands and discussing a wide variety of topics with others even if he is not familiar with them. Almost nothing is taboo with him - he will readily talk with you about anything from five kingdom politics to interspecies reproduction to types of chairs and what wood they are made of. He forgives and forgets easily and readily, and will take offense with very little. He will try to keep his word and his vows barring extreme extenuating circumstances, and is occasionally charitable (although he will pointedly withhold pity).
It is only when the dead and those who would manipulate them are brought up when he gets decidedly unpleasant. He has an unfettered hatred for necromancers, graverobbers and tomb-defilers. He would kill a person on the mere suspicion that they have a necromancer as an acquaintance. He also has zero-tolerance for Resurrection magics of any kind. He does not care whether you are a shambling zombie or an innocent child miraculously restored by the divine, holy providence of the god of benevolence, hopeful thinking and rainbows. He will turn you to dust and bury you in the ground regardless of who you are or what you were in life. There is no crime he will commit, no act he will not perform, no sacred or hallowed things he will not break, no decencies or mercies he will allow when it comes to the dead.
Temer suffers in the same way as all specialized units do. Outside of his area of specialty, he will only ever be decent at his very best.
Temer's strength lies in his magic. His spells are, for their level, powerful and efficient, and he has mastered of several of them. They are some of the most effective spells of their respective categories, and when used correctly make him utterly peerless. Any fight between him and necromancers, undead or the resurrected is simply a slaughter with a foregone conclusion. However, despite his large number of spells and their level of power, they are largely useless for anything other than countering necromancy. They will have no effect whatsoever on anything that is not and has not been dead and that does not make use of necromancy. Outside of his spells, Temer's reliance on his gauntlets makes his unarmed strikes less effective than those of a Monk, he doesn't have any effective means of circumventing heavy armor, he himself is entirely unarmored with the exception of his arms, and he has no ranged means of attack whatsoever. His biggest advantage is his agility and his ability to deflect incoming attacks as well as subduing targets with takedowns, and as such he will never excel as a frontline fighter. In a conventional fight, he is better off utilized as a support unit used to harass, flank and harry enemies. He will fare poorly if forced to directly engage multiple enemies wielding even simple weaponry. He has high damage output when facing enemies with light armor or chainmail, but they can likely return as good as he gives.
In short, have Temer take point when going into crypts, and have him just behind the meatshield at all other times. Otherwise he'll likely just get in the way.
Magic Level: None - All his magical abilities are derived from his patron deity, who only bestows such powers upon Temer when there is a need for them.
Temer was once an undertaker in a remote, rural forest community. He knew what most people didn't know at the time, that being the village had a bit of a necromancer problem. It is not known how, but Temer is thought to have either discovered his powers then, or to have reverse-engineered and then extrapolated upon the abilities of his necromantic foes. He spent the next several years of his life putting the living dead back in the ground. One day, a priest came to the village and brought a recently deceased hunter back to life using powerful magicks. Temer didn't particularly care for this and killed the priest, and would have done the same to the hunter had she not fled. Temer handed his apprentice the keys to the local barrow and the gravekeeper's official badge of office (a shovel) and then set out into the world at large to put the hunter in his place. He has yet to find the hunter, so he wanders the land in the hopes of hearing about her eventually. And in the meantime, there are plenty of abandoned tombs to keep in check and occult practitioners to keep an eye on...
And he supposed an adventure or two wouldn't hurt. Mot knows, he could use the practice.
Temer's patron deity is Mot, the entity of Sterility and the Infinite Nature of Death. Mot's alignment is thought to be Neutral Evil with Lawful Evil tendencies.
According to what Temer has been told (which means that all that follows may or may not be true), Mot's throne is a deep pit in the Earth where all the dead and refuse of the world falls, and all things that never were, are not, and cannot be lie within Mot's domain. Mot has an insatiable hunger for all things that live, and to die is to pass through it's maw and enter the world that is Mot's stomach, which is larger and darker than the largest and deepest of oceans, from which there is no escape.
Mot is typically worshiped in order to either ensure or ward off death, or to cleanse life or prevent it from arising. Mot dislikes Necroturgy of any kind, since according to it all the dead belong to it, and reanimation, communication or any other form of Necromancy is equivalent to attempting to steal from Mot. Mot is affiliated with filth and refuse, but is aligned against disease and pestilence, and while Mot is predominantly a god of Death, it prefers to prevent rot, decay and stagnation, but also prevents healing and restoration. It claims to have 'torn the heavens asunder, the corpse of the sky is the darkness between stars,' and that stillborn children on moonless nights are made to become it's servitors - which are centipedes.
Mot can grant a wide array and variety of boons to those who pray to it, although these boons are highly focused and often carry a heavy price. Common forms of 'payment' include being rendered sterile, removal of appendages or digits (and their subsequent burial), bloodletting, ritual sacrifice, prevention of natural healing, loss of sensation and need, ritual scarring, grinding plants into a fine powder, burning of various bodily fluids, rubbing preservatives into open wounds, extraction of organs, etcetera, etcetera. These afflictions ironically serve to prolong overall lifespan, although inflicting hideous pain and lifelong deformity in the process. It is not uncommon for priests of Mot to be missing several limbs or to resemble inexplicably agile mummified corpses.
Mot is a foreign god, distinct from the various deities worshiped within the boundaries of the five kingdoms.
Temer is granted a number powerful spells through worship of Mot, all of which are geared explicitly to combating necromancers and the undead, along with ensuring the newly dead remain so. It should be noted that, for the purposes of these spells, any effect that would manipulate the dead in any fashion qualifies as necromancy, up to and including miraculous and divine power.
Novice Spell: Inertia
A simple but effective spell, Inertia severs any and all arcane connections of necromantic nature between multiple entities in a wide radius around the caster. This could result in a horde of reanimated corpses simply falling to the ground, or can result in bound undead becoming unbound and rampaging, free from control. Inertia has trouble disrupting connections that are warded or otherwise protected, does not affect enchantments, and does not affect any connections that are not necromantic in nature. Inertia is a simple spell requiring little concentration, and is easily retained. Incantation: "He feasts but is not sated, he imbibes but is not slaked." Concentration: Low Verbal, Divine Components Required
Novice Spell: Diminution
This spell goes hand in hand with Inertia, and it is similarly simple. It merely weakens and dispells wards and other forms of protection over arcane connections of necromantic nature in a wide radius around the caster. That's it. It does not affect wards or barriers that protect connections which are not at least partially necromantic in nature. This spell, like Inertia, requires little concentration and is easily retained. Incantation: "The due to the dead is paid in full to he of insatiable hunger." Concentration: Low Verbal, Divine Components Required
Apprentice Spell: The Lamb's Exposure
Generates an aura around the caster. All incorporeal beings who enter this field are rendered tangible. The transition of state will momentarily paralyze those affected. Incantation: "Void shall be ash, darkness shall be dust, air shall be blood, mind shall be sand, and spirit shall be dirt." Concentration: Intermediate Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Intermediate Spell: Vital Upbraid
Causes a shift in the atmosphere of the surrounding area, equivalent to a light breeze. Undead, reanimated, or resurrected entities within range are stunned, and weaker entities are immediately reduced to dust. All necromantic entities within the area of effect become silenced and unable to cast spells. Incantation: "Feel his presence, feel his power, feel helpless like a lamb before the slaughter, for you shall be carried away in the breech of the windpipe that is the beast of your final demise." Concentration: Moderate Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Intermediate Spell: Stygian Rift
Releases a faint, nearly indiscernible pulse of power from the caster in a wide radius. All undead hit have a chance of being instantly vanquished. Those that resist are instead crushed from all sides by an immense pressure. Warding and various forms of similar protection can help defend against being instantly vanquished, while armor and the like can protect against being crushed. Incantation: "Time is meaningless, space is meaningless, matter is meaningless, energy is meaningless. He pervades the boundaries and condemns the heel, and with a patience savored unleashes begotten and eternal despair." Concentration: Moderate Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Intermediate Spell: Potentiate Redshift
A ranged, single-target spell. Exponentially increases the drain required for necromantic spells and effects for as long as the target is under the influence of the spell, but it also converts all drain into heat. Targets that make use of necromancy will (for example) literally be burnt to death as their bone marrow liquefies, boils and cooks them alive from the inside out. Contrary to common opinion, targets will rarely be set on fire, although it is not uncommon for them to be reduced to a sludge-like pile of fossil fuel. More traditional undead will typically become incapable of movement as their weakened ligaments and muscles dissolve into goo. Ghosts tend to evaporate. It's an immensely unpleasant spell to be affected by. Incantation: "Hasten to the end, see with darkling eyes as light recedes the fate that befalls you as it shall befall all." Concentration: Moderate Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Experienced Spell: Ontological Feedback
An advanced spell, it is specially designed to combat powerful undead or necromantic foes. It is a spell with casting comprised of two Somatic components, a hand gesture and a simple palm strike - the spell requires high levels of concentration, but the fusion of a spell with a physical attack allows for the user to circumvent this problem, since their own muscle memory and the energy put into the strike will allow them to use the spell swiftly while in the heat of battle without having to worry about the spell failing or not being retained. However, for this to work, the attack must be executed perfectly. If it is blocked or deflected, the caster's concentration will inevitably be broken and the spell likely lost, so it is vital that the user be absolutely certain they can land the attack before using this spell. Hitting magical wards, for the purposes of this spell, counts as a direct hit. When connecting with an opponent, this spell causes every necromantic enchantment within the target to almost literally implode, severing all arcane necromantic connections and wrecking immense physical damage in direct proportion to the amount and potency of necromantic enchantment present in the target, and also dispelling all such enchantments. This spell is therefore extremely useful against more powerful undead such as liches, and will vanquish most undead instantly. Necromancers will likely be gravely injured but will survive most strikes, unless they were making use of particularly powerful enchantments. Warding and protection are generally ineffective at preventing this spell's effects from occuring. Incantation: "Feast upon your sins." Concentration: Considerable Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Experienced Spell: Sterile Visage
An advanced spell, it forms an aura around the caster which serves as protection and warding against necromantic spells, curses and effects, and also repulses disease and pestilence (but notably, not poisons or toxins that are not part of a necromantic spell). However, all living matter within this field will be unable to heal naturally, with healing and regeneration being severely dampened or entirely negated. Incantation: "His gaze keeps, his breath halts, his voice purifies, and his will decrees. Behold the crystalline certainty of promised oblivion." Concentration: Considerable Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components Required
Elite Spell: Eternal Death
By performing the rite of Eternal Death over the corpse or remains of an entity, resurrection, regeneration, rejuvenation, reincarnation, etcetera become impossible. That entity shall lie dead forevermore, with no exceptions - everything from reanimation of the corpse to divine intervention on behalf of other gods will fail. The concentration required for this spell is immense, since one literally calls down a conduit from the divine realm to serve as an extension of that otherworldly plane and momentarily allows a specific deity to work their will upon reality within the confines of the spell's boundaries. In this case, the spell is limited to the boundaries of a single dead entity's remains. Incantation: "Once but dust from heavens far, as you were forged you shall return! As body fails and spirit wanes, you now shall join the mass of graves, the earth and worm shall have their claim. His hunger seeks and hunger finds the snuffed-out ember of your time. The woesome winds of bearing beast's fearsome visage carries on and carries off, the kidling preykind of your mind - embrace death eternal, and eternal you shall lie." Concentration: High Somatic, Verbal, Divine Components
De'Myr(played by Zhaliora)
Name: De'Myr Draee Class: Priestess of Lolth (Cleric) Age: 118 Race: Drow Height: 4'5" Weights: 82 lb. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Deities and Beliefs: Ardent worshipper and follower of Lolth Weapons and Armour: Dagger whip with three heads, Wooden Shield and a Spidersilk armour Magic Level: Divine Caster Languages: Common, Elven, Undercommon, Drow Sign Language, Abyssal
Aura of dread: De'Myr Draee gives of an unsettling aura that can be felt by others making them uneasy in her presence. Creatures with a very low will might even start to shiver or flee from her. Non-magical or people without sufficient magical experience notice that something is off with her but an experienced spell caster can almost see the image of a huge spider hovering over her, as if to protect her. The negative effects can be negated by long exposure to De'Myr or if they get on her good side. Highborn Drow: May use Detect Good, Detect Magic and Levitate once per day with low mental drain and no chance of losing them after use. Eschew Materials: De'Myr don't need material components cheaper than one gold to cast spells Spell Resistance: Due to her Drow heritage, De'Myr have innate spell resistance that she can lower or return at will. The spell resistance works this way: Novice spells 80%, Apprentice, 60%, Intermediate, 40%, Elite, 20% to resist the spell cast at her. Death Touch: Kills one living subject per day that is under 30% health with a touch. De'Myr needs to physically touch the subject’s skin to be able to cast the spell. The spell can't be lost but the drain on her mind is very heavy. Master of Spiders: De'Myr can call on the assistance of vermin in the vicinity. She can either command them with simple commands, or make them leave an area. Currently five times per day, may improve later. She can do this with low drain to both body and mind and no chance of losing her ability. Master of Poisons: Due to much experience dealing with poisons, De'Myr can't accidentally poison herself when applying poisons to weapons. Spider Exoskeleton: De'Myr has a Spider Exoskeleton that she can call out at will. The skeleton takes a minute to fully appear and the same time for it to disappear again. Currently De'Myr can only retract the Exoskeleton once per day without passing out from the pain. The Exoskeleton is a permanent change unless De'Myr wants to hide it again. During the usage of the Spider Exoskeleton, De'Myr's Aura of Dread grows even stronger.
De'Myr can cast Dancing Lights , Darkness and Faerie Fire once per day with low mental drain and no chance of losing them after use. Dancing Lights: De’Myr summons up to four lights that hover over targeted location, object or person, they shine the same amount as a torch. Range: C Components: V,S,DF Darkness: De’Myr summons complete darkness in an area of 1000 Cubic feet (10X10X10), you can still use torches to light it up, but they only shine half as much. Range: C Components: V,S,DF Levitate: De’Myr can float up into the air for up to a total height of 300 feet, the drain gets higher for every minute spent levitating. Range: P Components: V,S,DF Faerie Fire: De’Myr causes the subject or object to light up and shine as bright as a candle. Range: L Components:V,S,DF
V: Vocal, De'Myr needs to say a few words to cast the spell. M: Material, Specified materials are needed to cast the spell. F: Focus, A specific focus object (specified in spell description) is needed to cast the spell. S: Somatic, Specific hand movements are needed to cast the spell. DF: Divine Focus, Like focus but the focus must be something related to Lolth, mainly the spider tiara or the spider armband that De'Myr carries.
P: Personal, Only able to cast on herself T: Touch, Arm Length C: Close, 40ft M: Medium, 170ft L: Long, 600ft *: Specified in the spell description
(Subject to change)
Detect Poison: De'Myr can detect if an object or area has been poisoned or is poisonous. Range: C, can pass through barriers but 1ft of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a think sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood/dirt blocks it. All detect spells works the same way. Component: V,S Drain: Low mental Cause fear: Causes fear to take root in one living subject. Only works on people without training to shut out fear. Range: C Component: V,S Drain: Low mental Command: One living subject can be commanded to do simple commands Example: Drop: Drops an item that subject is currently holding, Flee: Subject flees from De'Myr as quickly as it can until outside of M Range. The subject may try to resist the command given with willpower, Medium Mental Drain. If the subject can't carry out the command, the spell fails but still drains mental power from De'Myr. Range: C Component: V,S Drain: Medium Mental Disguise Self: De'Myr can disguise herself, her cloths and all her equipment into something or someone she has seen before or change minor features of her body. Those who know the impersonated subject has a 50% chance to notice that something is odd. Range: P Component: V,S Drain: Medium Physical, Low Mental Drain goes up for every hour spend disguised. Invisibility: De'Myr can turn invisible along with all her cloths and equipment. She can still be bumped into and interact with her surroundings like normal. Range: P Component:Drain: Medium Mental Summon Monster: Can summon monsters from other planes of existence, the level of the spell determines what kind of monsters can be summoned, Novice-Elite. Range: C Component: V,S,F/DF Drain: Novice: Low Mental, Apprentice: Low Mental, Intermediate: Medium Mental, Elite: High Mental. The drain gets higher for every half hour summoned. Current level: Apprentice Confusion: One living subject takes a random action out of these out of a d%: 1-10, Attack Caster with any weapon available, charge close if not possible.
11-20, Act Normally
21-50, Do nothing but babble incoherently
51-70, Flee away from caster at full speed
71-100, Attack closest creature/person
If confused person is unable to do the randomized action, it babble incoherently Range: M Component: V,S,DF Drain: Mental stress goes up per minute creature is confused, from Medium to Very High. Poison: De'Myr can poison one living subject by either touching the skin of subject, or by wounding said subject with her Dagger Whip:. Subject takes High Physical stress directly and if subject fails a 50% endurance check, it takes another High Physical stress after a minute. Range: * Component: V,S,(F) Drain: Medium Mental Shatter: De'Myr may cause target, non-magical solid object, weighing no more than 70 lb. (subject to change), to shatter into a thousand pieces, or all non-magical, brittle objects (Glass, Crystal, Ceramic or Porcelain) within 5 feet of point of origin for the spell, weighing no more than 7lb. (subject to change). Range: C Component: V,S,DF Drain: Low Mental Cure Wounds/Inflict Wounds: Either Cures wounds or Inflict wounds upon Living/Undead subject. There exist levels from Novice to Elite in the spell:
Novice, Heals/Deals a very little amount Drain: Low Mental
Apprentice, Heals/Deals a little amount Drain: Medium Mental
Intermediate, Heals/Deals a Medium amount Drain: High Mental
Elite, Heals/Deals a High amount Drain: Very High Mental De’Myr can evolve the spells into Area of effect version. Then instead of a single target, it's every target within "C Range". When evolved, the "single target version" lowers its drain by one category (low becomes minimum and so on). The "area version" remains at the spells original drain
De'Myr Draee has always been arrogant, selfish and greedy; however after travelling with Lisha, she started wanting to protect Lisha, instead of just thinking about herself. But after Lisha's death, De'Myr grew dark, grim and started disliking the "lesser races" for their part in Lisha's death. De'Myr also came to realise that life was precious, but only for those that she cared about or was vital for a mission; the rest could die for all she cared. With new powers granted to her by Lolth to pursue the highest form of greed and selfishness, to revive a dead lover, De'Myr is ruthless in her quest to do so.
De'Myr Draee has long, silver hair, red eyes, a tattoo under her left eye and her left ear is full of different piercings. She also has grown a spidery tiara on her forehead. Her Spidersilk armour is a very beautiful attire of the finest spider webbing, partly transparent throughout the whole dress, and thicker webbing panties to make them non-transparent. The dress also has two clothing pins made of black sapphire and gold with very sharp cones at the end to double as daggers and quick removal of the dress. To the dress, there are spider webbing sandals, made strong with magic and have green magical snake ornaments which lock themselves around her legs to make the sandals stay there. And lastly, on her left arm, near the hand, she has an ornament in the shape of a spider with a deep red ruby in it. Not to mention all the secret pockets that she store her poisons and gold, just in case.
Name: Epi (Epimeliad) Malus
Race: Elf (Sky)
Age: 50 years
Weight: 120 lbs.
Weapons/ Armor: Light Armor mostly consisting of animal hide and metal clamps to hold the pieces together. She has a bow, arrows, and also carries around healing salve for minor scratches and wounds. For close combat she has a small dagger.
Magic Level: Novice
Vasanta (Apprentice) (see description in Patron Deity- Spells) Mastering this spell is expected of everyone who lived in Epi’s village.
Varsha (Novice) (see description in Patron Deity- Spells)
Hermanta (Apprentice) (see description in Patron Deity- Spells)
(Shishira is not known)
Aura of Righteousness(Untrained) The uncanny ability to continue battle even when hope is lost.
Taking Aim(Novice) Through practice and concentration, Epi is mastering the bow. When this spell is active she shoots faster and further than most with decent accuracy.
Tracking and Trapping (from her job description)
Plant Lore (from her village training)
Alignment: Neutral Good
The patron deity of Epi, and a few of her surrounding villages is Aphelion. He is in charge of changing the seasons. His siblings include the twin goddesses of time and fate, Clepsydra and Fari. Like them, he is known to be impartial to the everyday affairs of mortals. Aphelion’s alignment is neutral.
Followers associate him with gold and moonstone which represent the celestial bodies that also change with time and seasons. His patron colors are green and brown.
(The level of the spell is affected by its difficulty to cast and the amount of words for the incantation. The focus of these spells is to promote harvests / food production or minor protection.)
Novice: The caster can speed the healing of minor cuts/ wounds on themselves.
Apprentice: The caster can speed the healing of minor cuts/ wounds on others; The caster can speed the growth up of a herbaceous plant.
Intermediate: The caster can heal major wounds / cuts on themselves; The caster can speed the growth up of a few herbaceous plants or a single woody plant.
Experienced: The caster can heal major wounds/ cuts on others; The caster can speed can sped up the growth of several herbaceous plants or a few woody plants.
Varsha (rain/monsoon/summer season)
Novice: A cup of water can be pulled from the air
Apprentice: The caster can create mist in a 20 foot wide area or pull a pint of water from the air.
Intermediate: The caster can create a small storm in a 20 foot wide area or pull a gallon of water from the air.
Experienced: The caster can create a large storm in a 50 foot wide area or pull several buckets of water from the air.
Novice: The subject becomes sleepy or less aggressive for a limited amount of time.
Apprentice-: The subject become sleepy or less aggressive for a longer amount of time.
Intermediate: The subject falls asleep but can be awoken by touch or a loud noise.
Experienced: The subject falls asleep and is unlikely to awake for a longer period of time.
Novice: The palm of the caster becomes cold and rock hard.
Apprentice: An object touching the caster becomes cold and rock hard (weapons, shields, ect- size limited)
Intermediate: The caster can encase parts of themselves or another in ice.
Experienced: The caster can entirely encase themselves or another in ice.
Previous Occupation: Village Hunter
“So what are you going to do?” Xerus asked, his beady eyes focusing on her.
“I’m not sure,” Epi replied as she gazed out over the forest. She reached up and picked a ripe walnut from the tree branches above and handed it to the Ratatosk, perched on her shoulder.
Xerus took the nut with his tiny claws but held off eating it. “The others, they’re too tame. I suspect it comes from generations of living out in the middle of nowhere, being secluded from the rest of the world. Not you though, you’ve got that sparkle.” Xerus skillfully stripped of the shell of his treat, allowing the nymph time to think. “My point is that you have two choices, Epi. These aren’t mere rumors anymore. A war is coming. The world is going to burn- your world, Epi.”
“I know,” she said again, letting out a long sigh, “but how can I bear to leave this place? I’m not like you, Xerus, the only place I’ve ever lived is this village. I don’t even know what’s out there. Besides, is it really a good idea to leave my village behind? Unprotected?”
“The choice is yours, Epi. Go and meet the battle head-on or wait here for it to come to you…but if you choose to wait, I am certain your village is guaranteed to be destroyed.”
That was three years ago and no one from their village has seen them since. They are believed to be dead.
Age: (Unknown- Appears to be adult squirrel sized)
Height: Body 20’’, Tail 8’’
Weight: 1.37 lbs
Weapons/Armor: None, but he does have the uncanny ability to ‘disappear’ in the heat of battle.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Patron Deity: None
Magic Level: Expert (Although you could never tell from looking at him)
Whispers of the Word (Expert level) Through time and place Xerus can pick up on the events of the world. The more people affected by the event or the closer the location, the easier it is for him to find. Even with all his power and concentration however some things remain vague. This is a very hard spell to cast and takes him time, energy, and immense concentration.
Disappearing Act (Expert level) This spell allows Xerus to disappear (literally) into a different dimension for a short periods of time. While it is very useful, he must anchor himself to some object to help him find his way back. He disappears and reappears in the same state. (So if he is bound and disappears, he will reappears bound).
Aura of the Blessed (Intermediate)Those very close to him seem to experience a decent amount of luck.
Xerus has the senses of a normal squirrel. He has a wide range of vision, powerful teeth, acute hearing, and a highly developed sense of smell.
Occupation: Gossip mongerer, Advisor
Biography: Xerus is a gather of information. He has spent his life traveling from town to town delivering news and messages. Recently, he has been seen in the company of an elf. No one knows why he has decided to adopt her as his traveling companion but he is often found perched on her shoulder, spouting off information and advice.
Alaron (Played by Dark Project)
Name: Alaron Baird
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Half Human, Half Elf (Sky).
Weight: 160 lbs.
Weapons and armor: Alaron wears studded leather armor. Uses a black steel short sword in close combat, and a Yew wood shortbow in ranged combat. Alaron is more skilled as an archer than he is a sword saint, though when forced into melee combat fights with a classical fencing style of swordsmanship.
Magic level: None
Personality: Alaron may be a thief but he's not a cutthroat. While on jobs he does everything he can to avoid killing anyone. He sees it as unprofessional and doesn't believe in killing innocents, though is totally fine with stealing from them. Of course, should he find himself looting the home of a known rapist, he may take a little extra time to slit the man's throat while he sleeps. Alaron despises 'truly' evil behavior such as child abuse, rape, and senseless murdering of innocents.
Socially Alaron is can be distant, but welcoming. Due to his profession, he's been conditioned to keep a low profile. The less people that knew of him was for the better and and his social tendencies reflect that. However, those who did know him personally, usually his fences or the local bartender, knew him to be very kind and at times quite talkative once he's had a few drinks. Alaron is the kind of person who once he lets you into his world, you're there to stay. To close friends and companions, he's proven to be very loyal and generous so long as they can stand his drinking and heavy smoking.
History: Alaron grew up on the water under the care of his human father who made a living as a trade ship captain and often frequented the port of Arbich. During his time spent aboard his father's ship, Alaron's father did his best to mold him into a respectable sailor. Teaching him all the necessary skills and etiquette a sailor should have. Over the years Alaron did become very familiar with the art of sailing, but it was never his passion. Whenever the ship came into port, Alaron spent all the time he could on land, frequently visiting the dock workers and slums surrounding the busy harbors. He began to become very familiar and close with many of the workers, some of which were involved in...criminal activities. As Alaron formed friendships and connections, he began to learn the disciplines of another trade that he had far more interest in rather than sailing.
The dock workers taught Alaron how to make a 'dirty' living. Picking locks, moving silently, pickpocketing, staying hidden, finding and disabling traps and other security measures. The life of a thief was Alaron's passion, not that of an honest sailor. As soon as he had saved up enough money from working for his father and robbing unsuspecting nobles he moved into a small apartment in the city of Arbich. From then on he made a living the way he had planned. He kept his landlord at bay pulling small jobs frequently such as breaking and entering, pick pocketing, and even a bit of tomb raiding when things got really tight.
Though now times were getting tough. Jobs just aren't yielding the coin they used to. Alaron is barely scraping together enough money to afford a few cigars and a bottle of rum. He needed to make money fast or face the shame of crawling back to his father for his old job as a sailor. Either way...the rent is due...
Marcurio Deltran sat in the meeting room of one of the larger taverns in the area. This event wasn't in the city proper of Arbich for several reasons, but the main one was that there were no guards here. Marcurio was an honest man, a rare thing among the merchants and traders who were out to make money first. He was fairly well known and very respected.
He loved his daughter. He had lost his brother and his nephew already, and that hurt, it hurt a lot. But his daughter wasn't found. He wanted her back. If he had to hire people who were not welcomed in the city walls of Arbich, or people who wanted to avoid the always watching eyes of the guards, then so be it. His priority right now was to get his daughter back. Plain and simple and by any means he could utilize.
It had only been two days since posting and advertising that he was paying to get a group of people together willing to go search for her. The city refused to provide support as they wrote her off for dead, dead like everyone else in the caravan. All other bodies were accounted for. On top of that, the area around Small Haven had recently been all but taken over by goblin bands.
In fact, there was a small army being put together that was marching out to clear the area within 3 weeks. But Marcurio didn't have 3 more weeks. He'd already waited two days, two agonizing days. He was done waiting.
He looked to the only two people in the room, the officer in charge of his home security team, Ateo and his lifelong friend and recent brother in law, Traynt. Ateo was a battle hardened warrior and had given up fighting for money or honor or valor many years ago. Wanting to settle down, he came to Arbich and looked for work. Seeing Marcurio for who he truly was, he chose to offer his services to him, knowing he wouldn't require Ateo to slit throats in the night or leave dead bodies in alleyway and ditches.
Traynt was a priest, of sorts, and while he was genuine and very just, he was bawdy, loud and a heavy drinker at times. Everyone loved Traynt, so long as they had nothing to fear in him. Both man had experiences that would help the group be weeded out.
They went over everything again. Marcurio was to play the part of “the merchant’s banker” so that he could see what was going on and not elicit the pleasantries and maneuvering that would most likely occur if they knew “the boss” was there.
It was time to begin the process and get his band of potential heroes together…
The first interview was somewhat disastrous. Marcurio was pacing behind Ateo and Traynt as the man entered, looking at his feet and the floor, sometimes looking out the window. Every so often he'd glance at the prospect or his two companions, but he only half listened. In fact, it took him moments to realize that there was shouting and an scuffle, and as he looked up he was shocked to see Ateo pinning the prospect to the ground while two guards worked to restrain the man. "--anted for murder and extortion. You think you can fool us and use us to leave the city and escape justice? Take him away to the city," Ateo commanded of the two members of the house guard.
Ateo moved to the door and watched them leave, also noticing that a handful of other individuals that witnessed the altercation snuck out, some casually, some openly in a hurry. 'Good, less time to waste,' Ateo thought to himself.
They closed the door, had a quick talk before bringing the next person in, hoping a few more of the dregs would clear out. Ateo and Traynt both asked Marcurio if he wanted to be here, noticing his mental distance. "Yes, I know you and I trust you, but I need to be here. Thank you friends. Bring in the next please..."
The second man came in and nodded to the two. The briefly went over the listed information they had on him. Yorgo Mintfield. Half human, half elf ranger. He sat down as Ateo motioned for him to do so, and they launched into a few questions; his experience, capabilities. Initially, all seemed well enough. He’d fought in several skirmishes, was well trained and disciplined. Marcurio got up slowly and began to pace as the two continued questioning the ranger. Traynt then asked him, “why do you want to take this job?” Marcurio ceased pacing and stared at the man at this point, looking at him intently. Yorgo noticed this and was slightly taken aback by the intensity of the scrutiny.
“I, well, have been to the area, am familiar with it, and I could use the payment. Seems like we could be in and out pretty quickly.”
The two men seated looked at each other after the answer. Marcurio moved his gaze elsewhere and paced again. Traynt continued, “are you aware that now the area is swarming with goblins and even several giants have been seen in the area?”
“Yes, intelligence is pointing to them being in league with the giants, trying to carve out a small new territory for themselves.”
“Now I uh. I hadn’t heard that.”
Ateo spoke up again, asking “did you have any other questions for us while we consider this Yorgo?”
“Just how much steel we’re talking about for this job?” Once again Traynt and Ateo looked at one another as Marcurio stepped forward and answered “we’ve been allotted 150 gold per qualified person for this.”
“Gold? 150 gold can buy me a horse and sword and a months worth of food. You’re talking about giants and goblin clans and throwing around gold? I’d consider it for 150 steel but you’re crazy.”
Ateo spoke up quickly and very much to the point, “well thank you for your time then sir. Show yourself out the door behind me and enjoy your day.”
He left, face slightly flushed with anger but he said nothing. When he left, they started to talk, making a point to note that the ranger was only interested in what he thought was an easy job and probably high paying. One less person to worry about…
After several more interviews that went south, Marcurio was getting somewhat frustrated. And scared… He wanted to send this party out to find his daughter, and soon. The other two sensed his silence and agitation, and Traynt spoke up about it, "Marc. Be patient. We are going to do this and do it right. You do not see it now, but it's better this way."
"Two of those men would have done fine. That ork especially. He was battle hardened. I don't understand the money part. Pay them, pay them upfront. People will not go into goblin infested lands for free or scraps. This is my daughter we're talking about. Dahla. Who knows what she is going through right now." His tone was sharp and accusatory, as if these two were to blame, but they both knew it was just him venting and he needed that.
Ateo spoke up next, "he is right my Lord. You are a merchant. Not a warrior. Paid swords will scatter as soon as the first goblin group decends on them. Let alone a giant. You want a group that will fight for you and for your daughter. Not for coin. Paying someone to do errands, and clean, that is different. It's not life and death. This is different. Doing something because of the cause and not for pay, that is what will keep this group together and get Dahlaholtrah back. And sending a group out there today that is scattered tomorrow is worse than sending a group in a few days if they do what is required of them."
Marcurio hardened his jaw and simply waved his hand for them to continue. Traynt stamped the end of his staff twice on the floor which signaled the door guards to send in the next person.
The door opened and in walked Fitch, ducking slightly to get under the door. Ateo grimaced the moment he saw who walked in, while Traynt and Marcurio studied him intently. Marcurio kept his gaze neutral, playing the part of a person here to shell out coins and not a person who needed these people to bring back his daughter.
"Fitch," said Ateo with distaste, as if that name alone tasted of something awful. The eerkro (ogre father, ork mother) smirked at Ateo and returned the glare he was getting. The two locked stares for a moment and then Fitch turned to the other two, nodding politely towards Traynt and slightly at the coin bearer.
"You two know each other?" Traynt could sense the tension and meant to have it in the open right away. "And feel free to sit sir."
"I'll stand just as well, thank you." His voice was deep and sounded like rocks grinding together. To be honest, he'd like to sit but his form would most likely break the small chair, made for unarmored humans and not armored eerkro weighing over 350 pounds. "Yes, Ateo and I are acquainted. We fought together before and he did not care for me tactics in battle. But, I left our disagreement on the battlefield, I'm hoping he has too."
Ateo didn't say anything immediately. He didn't like Fitch, knowing him to be somewhat bloodthirsty, prideful and difficult to work with in battle. But he kept his mouth shut. For something like this, as much as he hated to admit it, Fitch might be just the perfect person.
"My name is Traynt, I'm Lord Deltran's advisor. Why do you think we should hire you for this?"
"As Ateo or anyone who has seen me in battle can attest to, I will not back down. My mission is important to me. I do not quit, they call me Fitch the Relentless for a reason. While I have been bested in individual combat, I have not failed. Or you can come collect my armor and bury my corpse."
"How do you intend to search for his lordship's lost girl?"
"By any means necessary. I know you are forming a party. I am not a tracker, so others can do that. But if we have to cut through goblins or orks or what have you, I will get the answers. If anyone lives and they know something, they will tell me. When a girls life is at stake and someone holds information, that is the same as being her captor. I will give no quarter."
Traynt looked at Ateo, then back at Fitch. "So if you found a man who knew something and wouldn't tell, what would you do?"
"That is a very broad question. I'll answer though. If he had a wife, I'd threaten to kill her. If he wouldn't tell me, I'd kill her. If he had children, I would gather them up. Then, I'd start breaking bones and healing him back. The wounds would heal, but mentally, he'd remember what he was through. Then I'd break them again. After seeing his dead wife, and watching and feeling his bones crushed--"
"That's enough, we get the point," Ateo spoke up.
Traynt looked up to Marcurio, nodded, then back to Fitch. "Well sir. We would like to officially welcome you to the party. Please step through the room there and wait for others. Help yourself to drink or food. In terms of pay, please understand that his lordsh--"
"Bah. I don't care about the pay. We can settle up with that later. My temple will accept it as a donation, and as a donation, any amount is something to be thankful for."
"Thank you sir. Very well. Well you'll receive said payment when the others are selected and briefed." Only a 150g, but still, he turned it down. Traynt was impressed. However, something about the animosity between the eerkro and Ateo had him curious. But now was not the time. More needed to be done. He heard the door close behind him as Fitch closed it.
"Shall we?" Both Marcurio and Ateo nodded and there was another THUMP THUMP of the staff…
"Shall we?" Both Marcurio and Ateo nodded and there was another THUMP THUMP of the staff…
The door opened, and in strode a man wearing simple blue and brown robes and pants over his lower body, bare chested and bearing a pair of darkened shoulder-length plate-metal gauntlets inscribed with esoteric etchings. He had raven but greying hair tied into a braid, and his most startling feature by far were his two glass eyes. They were empty and dead things, shining in the light of the room, staring unceasingly at whomever the man looked at. The man, however, appeared to still be able to find his way into the room to sit down before the interviewers without any trouble.
"Astounding pleasure to make your acquaintances." He said jovially as he sat down. "I'd shake yer hands, but eh," He held his gauntlets up to reveal the spade-like sharpened protrusions attached to them, along with the palms, were covered in viscera and dried blood. "...mine are kind of covered in death. Should have washed up before coming here, sorry."
They briefly went over the listed information they had on him.
The man's only given name was Temer, and he was a human foreigner from far-off lands. He claimed his profession was that of a 'Mortificator,' which was not one they recognized.
"We're a bit like clerics, or maybe crusaders. Our duties revolve more around handling of the dead and deceased." He explained. "So, uh, things like preparation, burial, ceremonies, maintaining and defending hollowed grounds, that sort of thing. A bit like undertakers, only we're usually backed by divine sanctioning. It's not strictly a profession where you see much scrappin, unless you happen to work for the right god." He gave them an easy smile, his glittering glass eyes drilling holes into his interviewers. "And I assure you. I work for the right god."
They then asked him a few questions about his experiences. He had no formal training of note, and claimed that his main experiences with combat involved bandits and highwaymen, occasional tavern brawls, and a few misunderstandings with guards ("er, though I'm not a wanted man," he hastily pointed out). It was a frankly unimpressive resume until he started mentioning the walking dead. He claimed to have slain scores of necromancers and their minions over an eight year period, and further claimed to have cleared out several haunted crypts and ancient barrows of the restless dead by himself.
"Well, that's just my job. The god wants the dead ta stay dead, so I go out and make sure of that." He said matter-of-factly. "Fightin' the dead isn't anything like fighting the living, so I don't know whether or not I have the kind of experience you're looking for - but I do have experience aplenty, in my chosen profession."
“why do you want to take this job?”
"Ah, well, I'm here in your land on a bit of a pilgrimage, as it were." Temer said brightly, with an easy and cheery smile. "I want to be more familiar with the area, get some basic funding, possibly make a few contacts, and as long as I am here I need to keep myself sharp. A little bit of adventuring, or eh, investigating as it were, is as good a practice as any I suppose."
“are you aware that now the area is swarming with goblins and even several giants have been seen in the area?”
"Well, it could be worse." Temer said with an easy shrug of his broad shoulders, his gauntlets clicking softly with the motion. "It ain't like the Earth itself has come to life and started devouring everything left and right. Goblins aren't nothing to worry about next to that. And can't say I've ever fought giants before, but I'm sure we can either work around 'em or bring them down with some quick thinking. If there are giants in the area, I'm sure you had some kind of plan for them anyways."
“did you have any other questions for us while we consider this?"
"Yeah, I'd much appreciate it if ya only paid me in gold, silver, bronze and the like. Where I come from steel is common as dirt, and when I eventually go back home I would prefer it if my pay were not chickenfeed, thanks." The man winked one of his glass eyes. It was rather disconcerting to experience. "But uh, that said I'd be happy if I only got paid in food and basic amenities, I'm not asking for a king's ransom. Not like I live here, after all."
Why do you think we should hire you for this?"
"I'm a stout and hardy soul. I'll carry my weight and the weight of two men besides. I'll stand by you and be fair when possible. I don't complain, cause I don't need nor expect much. I fear nor heed no evil, beast or man, cause I've spent my life fighting things a thousand times worse. And I promise you, if ever we should have to deal with necromancy or the like, you too will having nothing to fear." He made the last statement firmly, with a determined set to his face.
"How do you intend to search for his lordship's lost girl?"
"Well, I'm not tracker if that's what you're asking. I had been assuming you were doing interviews to get together a party for the job...?" He looked to both of his interviewers with a raised brow and an appraising, glistening eye. "Either way, I need to find her in order to either keep her alive, or ensure her body is treated properly. Presumably I would do that by killing lots of monsters or blackguards and then treating their dead, broken bodies properly in the right general direction." He laughed aloud as he said this, a loud, booming and deep sound. "But yeah, I'm a foreigner in your lands, can't say I'd even know where to start looking."
"So if you found a man who knew something and wouldn't tell, what would you do?"
"Kill him and ask my god if he knew anything." Temer said flatly. "I'd prefer it if I didn't have ta do that often, gods don't really like it much when you only talk to them about basic sundries, am I right? And if he's not feeling generous then that's quite the literal dead end we've smacked into. I suppose I could tie him to the ground and beat him until he forgets his own name, but then I suppose he'd also have forgotten the whereabouts of this girl we're looking for. Brutal torture is good, clean fun, but I ain't trained or experienced in it so you should probably have someone else handle it. If that don't work though, and the bastard off and dies, I can probably get us a second chance to figure out what he knew."
"Thank you sir. Very well. Well you'll receive said payment when the others are selected and briefed."
"Don't hire any necromancers, I'll have to kill them." Temer said as he got up. He winked again, and then strode past Marcurio and Ateo, heading through the door behind them and then closing it.
We Try Things. Sometimes they even work.
-Parson Gotti, Erfworld
Three soft knocks came from the door. The door opened and from behind it appeared a young female elf who was much shorter in statue than the previous men. Her waist long, white hair fell off her shoulders as she leaned her head in. ”Are you still interviewing for the position?” she asked shyly, her voice low and melodic.
When the men indicated that they were, she walked quickly inside and gently closed the door behind her. She was wearing lightly tanned hide armor that had been recently brushed clean. On her shoulders sat a beady eyed squirrel with long tufted ears. The maiden bowed and walked over and sat down across the table from the three men. She seemed very nervous and continued to look down at her hands in her lap. This elf had spent almost three years away from her village but she was still very shy when it came to strangers, especially since she didn’t come to town often. ”I’m not very good at this. I’m afraid.”
The squirrel scampered off her shoulder and onto the table. It walked purposely to the center before sitting back on its hind legs. ”We are pleased to meet you and are honored to take part in the endeavor to rescue the missing woman. This is Epimeliad Malus- Epi for short,” it reached a paw out in the direction of the elf, ”and you may call me Xerus.”
”He’s a Ratatoskr,” Epi said continuing to look at her hands. She knew the merchant and his guards must have been a little confused. The creatures were incredibly rare, so much that she had only ever met one, ”unlike squirrels they can talk. Xerus is particularly talented in magic as well.”
Epi was asked a few more questions about the origin of her companion. They’d been traveling together for almost three year. He was a common visitor to their village that supplied them with news from the outside world. Whenever the men asked more specific questions about his species, Epi deferred to Xerus and the Ratatoskr simply replied with a shrug and a ”I am what I am.” When the questions faded, the merchant explained th background information to the duo. Epi squirmed at the words “Golbin” and “giant” but Xerus remained unphased.
”Why do you want to take this job?” one of them asked.
As if to answer a small growl played across the room. Epi flushed and put a hand on her painfully empty stomach.
”Food.” Xerus turned and looked at her exasperated. They’d had this conversation a few days before.
”It’s not just food.”
”It’s primarily food.” Epi argued back, her hunger adding a slight edge to her voice. ”I can’t eat nuts and berries all day. Game is fine but an elf can’t live off of meat alone!” Looking back over at the men she flushed again before adding. ”But I would also like to save your daughter. It’s hard to find jobs when you’re wandering around all the time and not everyone trusts elves.”
”Why should we trust you for this job?”
”Why should you trust us?” Xerus sneered and pointed behind them at the door the other hires had gone into. ”Why should you trust them!? We waited in line to come in here behind those ‘men’. You sure you’re sending a rescue party after your daughter? More likely they’ll hold her for random.” Truth be told, Xerus wasn’t pleased that the men had hired the Mortificator, he had really been hoping they’d toss him out but it couldn’t be helped. Xerus would just have to make sure Epi steered clear of the man.
”We would not do that,” Epi continued vehemently, ”I swear to you if I am hired that I will do my best to get your daughter back safely no matter what the other try to do or say.”
The merchant and his guards huddled up and spoke softly to each other for a few minutes before settling back down. ”And how do you intend to search for his lordship’s lost girl?”
Xerus smiled widely. ”That will be the easy part. I am a collector of information and do not find it through sheer luck alone. The closer we get to the girl’s location the easier it will be for me to find her. If you have an object of your daughter, one that she holds dear and would feel separated from, it will be easier from the start. In addition, Epi was the top hunter in her village. She is one of the best trackers I know. We are travelers ourselves and are used to harsh elements and demanding labor. In truth, I am more concerned about getting her back here once we do find her.”
”I can also heal minor wounds,” Epi added softly.
”One last question, that is, if you don’t have any for us-” when neither spoke up the man continued, ”if you found someone who knew something and wouldn't tell, what would you do?"
Xerus was about to reply but then figured he would leave the question to his companion. She was an interesting specimen indeed. Sometimes Epi was incredibly pliable but other times refusing to move an inch. He admired this about her and had enjoyed witnessing her growth throughout the past years. A stab played across his heart as his mind replayed the haunting image of her death.
”I wouldn’t do anything.” Epi replied, ”I assume we’re being hired as rescuers not tortures. If I am expected to do that then I will simply starve.”
She went to stand up but the merchant spoke up and said they were hired. Epi, not expected that turn of events bowed stiffly and waited only long enough for Xerus to scramble back on her shoulders before walking into the back room with the rest of the gathering party.
The chamber she entered was dimly lit by flickering candles and a low fire in the corner hearth. It was more intimate that the previous one and had a few couches and corner tables. A small gaming table stood against the far wall, cards already laid out for the occupant’s enjoyment. This room had no exterior walls and thus, no windows. The colorful but faded tapestries hanging on the wall depicted outdoor screened, nevertheless, the room felt closed and cramped for Epi so used to living in open spaces.
The two other members in the room seemed to be taking her in. The eerok made her nervous and she tried not to stare. He had a mean look about him, but then she figured it might just be his teeth that naturally protrude out of his bottom lip. The other person was a man, whom Epi felt like she had met before. That was possible, of course because her and Xerus had traveled many different places. Then again, humans did often look very similar to each other. She smiled warmly at him until she saw what was plastered to the skin of his palms. ”How can he stand to walk around like that?” Epi wondered to herself, ”I’ve had to clean a lot skins, but I always washed myself thoroughly afterwards.” “Maybe he doesn’t notice it anymore?” The thought made her ill.
She was about to ask Xerus if they had made a mistake in agreeing to the job but she found the Ratatoskr was no longer perched on her shoulder. In fact, Xerus had scrambled down her back and was now resting comfortably in a bag attached to her hip that she had especially designed for him. Awkwardly, she sat down on one of the many couches next to the eerok (feeling he was a tad safer) and offered a shy ”Hello.”
Last edited by Irell Starling; 11-06-2012 at 06:16 PM.
A few thumps came from within the interview room and Alaron was waved inside. He nervously approached the desk where the three men stood and had a seat. As he leaned back casually and threw his right leg over his left he noticed one of the men giving him a harsh look. Alaron began to feel uneasy. This experience was entirely new to him. He had never had to go out of his way to look for a job before, the jobs usually came to him. Another man paced slowly back and forth at the back of the room with his arms crossed. The third, gripping a large staff, began to ask him questions.
"My name is Traynt, I'm Lord Deltran's advisor. What is your name and why do you think we should hire you for this?"
Alaron could still see out of the corner of his hood that the other man was still glaring at him.
"My name is Alaron Baird. I am a...locksmith of sorts by trade and fancy myself as quite adept in trap-disarming, lockpicking, and other feats that require subterfuge."
"You're a thief! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you turned over to the Watchmen?"
The man who had been glaring at Alaron finally spoke up. He saw right through him the minute he walked through the door.
"Because I don't shit where I eat. I've taken many jobs in the past and I'm not stupid enough to take from the people who pay me to do what I do for a living. You may not trust me and what I do, but you can depend on me to get the job done. I don't steal from those who help me survive in this world."
Alaron words were stern and he returned a harsh look back to the man. What he said was true. Alaron had never stolen from any of his fences or informers. He knew that to be a good thief, you had to be dependable to get the best jobs. His words seemed to have satisfied his accuser only slightly and he relaxed his stance. Traynt continued with his questions.
"How do you intend to search for his lordship's lost girl?"
"Before coming here I tried my network of informants for any information I could. Unfortunately I could only turn up that which you already know. Best thing we can do is go to where she was last seen and start things from there. Squeeze any locals for information. Once we know where whoever captured her is keeping her, I'm going to be the one who'll be able to pick the lock to her cell."
Traynt looked to the brawny looking man before asking his next question.
"And how would you intend to 'squeeze the locals for information'?"
"Drowning" Alaron replied quickly.
Traynt gave him a confused look. "Sounds dangerous. You're likely to kill them whilst drowning them before you could extract the needed information."
"I used to be a sailor. We used to drown men who weren't pulling their weight on-board. Once you've done it for a while, you get very good at finding that threshold before they die. Very effective."
With that, the three men huddled together and quietly conversed. Alaron's heart was racing. He was dying for a cigar. He needed this job less he be forced to move back onto his father's ship, and he couldn't bear to live a sailor's life again. After what felt like hours Traynt finally turned to Alaron.
"You're lucky there's three of us here Alaron. With two votes to one we have decided to hire you on to our lordship's rescue party. Please step through to the next room and accompany the rest of the party. Once the party has been formed, you will receive your pay. Please help yourself to any food or drink."
Alaron felt relieved. He rose from his seat and walked past the men towards the door to where the other group members were. As he entered the door, he heard a voice behind him. "And don't make me have check your pockets on your way out."
Once within the room he took a quick assessment of the other members thus far. What looked like a huge ogre, a man, and an elf. The ogre looked to be half-orc, and shot him a quick look. Alaron couldn't tell if he was angry or just had a neutral expression. The protruding teeth may just be playing tricks on his eyes but he looked menacing nonetheless. Alaron felt a bit of relief knowing that this behemoth was going to be working with him as the muscle.
The man appeared to be giving him a weird blank look, something looked off in his eyes. As Alaron moved towards an open window and looked a bit closer, he noticed dried blood on the man's long gauntlets and saw he gave a quick smile in his direction. Alaron gave a quick nod back and continued walking.
Last was the elf. Sky. Alaron adjusted his hood as his eyes were drawn to her long ears, reminding him of his own only his were shorter. She looked about as much as what Alaron would expect from an elf of the woods. Her attention was on the eerok so he continued on to the window.
Once at the window Alaron gave out a long breath of relief and reached into his pocket for a cigar. He felt like he should converse with some of the party members but didn't want to annoy them too much with his habit, and he was in dire need of a some smooth tobacco. As he lit the cigar and took the first drag, he could feel the smooth smoke flow down inside his chest.The embers crackled softly and he exhaled a cloud of smoke out the tavern window.
Last edited by Dark Project; 11-05-2012 at 05:38 PM.
Fitch sat on a thick bench, having already eaten his fill of roast chicken and ham, along with a plateful of vegetables and two bowls of fruits. He wrapped it up with some bread, then a hunk of cake with sweet frost and washed it down with water and a little bit of wine. He wasn’t that hungry, nor did he want to eat the entire spread before others had the chance. Assuming there would be others. He had seen at least 5 people go into the room, and he was the first to be sent into this room--or at least that is how it appeared.
He sat on the bench casually, getting as comfortable as he could, when the door opened and a human walked through. Fitch was not very well traveled beyond the Peninsula, but he got around the 5 Kingdoms. The man who walked in was not from the area, he was exotic in everything about him: his feel, his smell, his dress and his armor…if you could call it that. Fitch studied him openly, but not with a lack of respect. The eerkro’s breath even now sounded thick and as if there were a slight rumbling emitted each time he exhaled. Just like almost everything about him, his natural demeanor could be completely misconstrued as a forced way to seek to intimidate. Fitch had long ago ceased caring. He had decided that most people who are so easily intimidated and so eager to be judgmental are not worth fretting over.
After studying the human a moment longer, he shrugged slightly and continued lounging. The food started to smell once again, filling his nostrils and almost making his mouth water, but he would wait. Another misconception about Fitch was that he was a glutton because, when he did eat, he ate a lot. Most people, in their narrow-mindedness, failed to see that as someone naturally almost twice as big as most humans, he required more food and also didn’t see that for someone his size, he ate rather sparingly.
He turned back to the human a few moments later and was about to ask him why he didn’t tend to his armor and left it bloody and filthy, when the door opened again and to Fitch’s surprise, in walked a small elf. Fitch wasn’t overly fond of elves, in the past having found them cowardly and lacking courage, but he was not one that would react with prejudice first.
He was even more surprised when she spoke to him. Most little people looked and him and ran, and those that had the respect to at least stay near him seldom spoke. “Hello,” was all she said and he studies her for a moment. After several seconds Fitch spoke up, his voice rumbling, “Hello little one. I am Garfitchadrasah Stonecleaver but generally go by Fitch. Pleasure to meet you.” He nodded his head, not bowing or anything of the sort. Fitch had manners and could be polite, but he was no knight and he didn’t play with bows and fancies and exaggerated courtesies. He waited for her and studied her just as he studied the human moments before.
A second or so later, before any answer, the door opened and another human male entered, but for the moment, he turned his attention back to the elf girl.
"Serenity and wisdom... These are the ways of the Henshin..."
"Use your sorrow, use your hate! Strike down all that stand before you!"
"Peace Nazgrul... your past does not make who you are today..."
"Peace is a lie... there is only endless conflict... My Son..."
Nazgrul woke with a start chest heaving as his scream echoed around the small wooden room. He sat up from the cheap cot of the Tavern and tried to calm down.
A loud knock came from next door and a voice called, "Shut tha' heell up! Some of us are still tryun ta sleep!"
Nazgrul glanced toward the wall sheepishly and climbed out of bed to sit cross legged at the foot of the cot in a meditative stance, There is no emotion, there is serenity. There is no vengeance, there is forgiveness. There is no chaos, there is wisdom. Nazgrul silently mouthed the words as he sat in silence, trying to slow his heart rate.
He had been staying at the tavern for two days now after a month long pilgrimage from his Monastery. It was tradition for Henshin Disciples to make at least one pilgrimage into the outside world to gain knowledge before they were considered to be full fledged Henshin Master. So far, Nazgrul had yet to achieve anything but sore feet and a growling stomach.
He sat their in silence for over an hour, lost in a trance of meditation.
Finally he opened his eyes and stood up with a groan. This was the last day that he was staying in the tavern. He still did not know what he was looking for even after a month of wandering aimlessly. His master, Eledrin, an Elf had said with a twinkle in his sea green eyes, "You won't know what you're looking for until you find it. Searching for an answer can take many forms, helping the less fortunate, ridding the world of evil, or sharing the wisdom of the Henshin. You won't know the answer, you'll just know it..."
Nazgrul pondered on the words of his master as he pulled on a simple, brown, hooded tunic. His master always spoke in riddles. It was difficult enough to interpret their meaning, it was even harder to act on them.
Nazgrul gathered his few belongings, his staff, a water skin, some copper inside a small pouch, and exited the room. He peered both ways down the corridor, it was empty and most of the occupants seemed to have already left to eat breakfast.
As usual, there was a large ruckus going downstairs in the common room. Men ordering tankards of ale (for breakfast), pulling aside waitresses that caught their eyes, and starting fights and arguments over who won last night's boxing match. The smell of eggs and sausage permeated the air along with the laughter of and general hub bub of the tavern.
Nazgrul wove his ways through the table, being careful to avoid the tables that had shady characters occupying them. To his surprise, a long line had formed in front of a private room reserved for business matters. He looked at the assortment of warriors, rogues, and scoundrels with a raised eyebrow and curious, he tapped the shoulder of a human waiting in line, "Excuse me, what is this line for?"
The man turned angrily sweeping away Nazgrul's hand away, "What in the blazes do you wa-" his eyes traveled upwards to meet Nazgruls and he stopped mid sentence. At six foot two, Nazgrul was an imposing figure. His chest was broad and muscular, speaking of unnatural strength that was nurtured since childhood, and his lower canines were pronounced revealing his Orkish ancestry. The man stuttered and stammered, "Uhh I mean uhh... This 'ere line is fer ehhh..."
Nazgrul raised his eyebrows in encouragement, "For?"
The man sneered and said, "It's for some easy steel. I herd some wealthy merchant lost his precious little daughter," His voice rose to a mocking tone and he laughed, "S'posed to pay a king's ransom for a group of able bodied men to look fer her!"
Nazgrul looked toward the wooden door thoughtfully, perhaps this was what his master was talking about. A way to help the less fortunate... A way to an answer?
Nazgrul's brow furrowed more, and he stared more intently at the door trying to decide if this was the elusive answer that he was searching for...
Then the door burst open.
"Wanted for murder and extortion. You think you can fool us and use us to leave the city and escape justice? Take him away to the city!"
Two city guards shoved a struggling half elf out of the door and clamped him in irons. They then proceeded to jostle him out of the tavern, causing heads to turn in their direction. Several figures got out of the line and casually walked... or ran... away...
The man that Nazgrul was talking to nervously fidgeted from one foot to the next, then seemed to make up his mind and walk away from the line, disappearing into the crowd of Tavern patrons.
Nazgrul snorted in disgust. He had made up his mind, he couldn't have such unsavory characters looking for an honest man's daughter.
He drew up his hood and got in line...
Nazgrul strode into the room, and slowly let up his hood, revealing dark brown eyes. Three men were present in the room, one with the look of a seasoned warrior, and the another of a sort of priest. The third sat quietly to one side and Nazgrul tried to get a better look at him until he was interrupted by the priest, "My name is Traynt and I am advisor to Lord Deltran," his voice was clear and almost had a commanding air to it, like that of trumpet fanfares announcing the arrival of an Emperor, "What is your name, Ork, and why do you wish to take upon this job for Lord Deltran?"
Nazgrul put his hands together and bowed respectfully, the long sleeves of his tunic covering his hands, "My name is Nazgrul Rasgnorr, and I wish to help the Lord find his daughter."
The warrior raised an eyebrow quizzically, "What? Out of the kindness of your heart?"
Nazgrul gave a slight nod of affirmation.
The priest smiled and leaned forward to ask, "And how do you intend to search for his lordship's daughter?"
"I am no tracker, but I will do whatever is in my power to bring his daughter home safely."
The other man growled, "Not a very clear cut answer... What exactly can you do?"
The priest waved him off and asked with a kind smile, "What my esteemed colleague means is that... well... What can you do?"
Nazgrul leaned forward on his staff and said, "I am just a simple monk. I may or may not be useful, I will assure you though that I will do whatever it takes to protect his lordship's daughter. You have my staff."
The warrior snorted. Traynt ignored him and said, "You will be payed the sum of a hundred and-"
"Money won't be an issue. Lending aid to those in need is a reward unto itself," Nazgrul said quickly.
All three men looked surprised at this. The man in the corner perked up and looked at Traynt. Traynt looked at the warrior who then shrugged.
Turning back to Nazgrul with a smile he said, "Welcome, Nazgrul Rasgnorr. Please step through to the next room and accompany the rest of the party. Please help yourself to any food or drink." He waved in the direction of a door off to the side of the room, and Nazgrul bowed to the trio of men present before striding over to it.
Opening the door revealed a sort of private lounge. Several members of the party had already arrived and Nazgrul ran a quick eye over them. Not seeing but observing. An Elf and huge Ogre were exchanging greetings. A half elf was just getting comfortable in his chair, and a strange looking man with glass eyes sat staring off into space with a slight smile on his face.
Nazgrul quietly bowed to the lot of them and took a seat next to a basket of fruit. Picking out a nice juicy pear, he began to eat his breakfast...
Death Row (Season 1)
A role play about major political problems including Capital Punishment, The issues of Democracy, and America (High Casual to Advanced)
Run by: Me!
Character(s): Thomas "Thom" Nantz, General James Cesario, Samuel L. Mason
The room felt stuffy, then didn't everywhere that was above ground. With all that light filtering through the glass, which only really seemed to brighten it. She wondered, not for the first time, how blind humans were to be able to wander about in such strong and blinding light without a care in the world. Ironically it reminded her of moles, the little cute fuzzy ones you found underground of course, not the mutated ones in the mine shafts of their home nor the type that she was accused of being from time to time. Of course there was a problem with that theory too, humans just weren't cute...
Traynt then asked her, “Why do you want to take this job?” The belle of the undercaverns glanced away from the shimmering light beam that was illuminating the desk. She'd moved the chair the moment she'd stepped in, placed it in a corner away from the window and partially concealed by the shade. One knee was drawn up so the heel of her boot caught the edge of the seat while the other was relaxed against the ground. The room wasn't too warm but the light beam was surely heating up the table and had she been sat where they wanted her to be that annoying beam would be right in the middle of her back. She wouldn’t' have been able to concentrate at all. Luckily the fella's here hadn't seemed too annoyed when she'd shifted the chair, then again it wasn't like she was running off with it so only a orc brained moron would get upset by it.
“Money.” She answered simply, a rather sharp edged smirk crawling onto her lips, she wondered how such a blunt an honest response would sit with the merchant and his little entourage. Sensible move of course she recognized the guy hanging like a crow in the back of the room. She'd offered him a wink as she'd walked in. They hadn't crossed swords s the metaphor goes but she certainly had to have caused him grief at some point and he looked mighty annoyed he couldn't slap her in cuffs and haul her away. He looked almost disgusted with her answer and the guy who'd asked the question had risen a brow in...well she couldn't read it. The merchant guy though, he looked down right shocked, like he'd blow a blood vessel at any moment. “You really think any one here is going to be doing this out the goodness of their hearts? They all have some kind of ulterior motive, even if it's benign in nature.”
“You're repulsive.” Ateo spat, to which the Drow grinned and shifted a little in the seat. “And you're naive, the world isn't the pleasant place you tell your children it is, it's a savage and primitive place, where you have to do anything to survive. It's a predator gentleman and there are only two types of people in it. Prey, like you.” Having raised one finger she now gestured to the would be employers, “And predator's like me.” “I should have you hauled off, your a bl--” Ateo however was cut short by the friend of the Merchant's hand being raised in protest. “How can we trust you?” He asked. “Ah well that's simple sir. I have my moral code.” She heard Ateo scoff but continued regardless, “Once we enter a contract verbal or written, I prefer the latter clears up any possibly messy understandings, I am bound to your service until the job is done.”
The three seemed to exchange a look and watched curiously as the Merchant this time spoke up, “ There are goblins and giants...probably other things too.” They all watched as one white brow hiked up towards the fringe line, Ateo already writing this girl off as another runner, “What are you paying me?”
“150 gold.” They watched her other brow rise to meet the first. That would get her a lot of alcohol, mind you wouldn't really get her anywhere with supplies. “Alright...You buy my supplies, don't worry I don't eat much, and you have yourself a deal.”
“Who the hell do you think you are darky! Marching in here an--” He was abruptly stopped as the chair skidded back into the wall and the Drow now stood in the hated beam of light. Her silhouette haloed by the golden light of day but it was not a pleasant effect, she looked like a steel eyes demoness from the bowels of the underworld. She glowered at the racist little prick and interrupted him before he found his words again. “Who do I think I am? I think I am a well renowned rogue with special qualifications that make your rangers look like children playing in mud. I think I am the person offering to risk my life to go and fetch this man's daughter even if any of the other dipshits he hires turn tail and run. I am the person who is going to drag his daughter, kicking and screaming if needs be, back to her fathers side while you sit in the nice warm comfort of your home playing with paper and pretending to be a man. Now MISTER Ateo if you have nothing to say I'd suggest kindly that you shut your trap so these kind people can ask me any other questions they have.” Common belief was that Drow's teeth were the flat peg shape that humans and surface elves were. This wasn't the case as she proved when offering a snarl from the corner of her mouth, sharp, predator's incisors lined the inside of her mouth. The underground kin's diet was varied and often consisted of very tough and tuberous roots, they needed to develop sharp teeth to manage to chew them.
Ateo was struck silent and it almost looked like the merchant's friend was grinning a little, the merchant just looked dumb struck again. She offered a brief bow of her head in as close to an apology as anyone was likely to receive. “So how...how do you plan to search for my daughter?” “I'm a good tracker, you kind of need to be in my line of work, I have no qualms in cutting things out of my way either, or greasing the palms of people who might hold information. I have several contacts that may have heard rumours that I can tap into."
"So if you found a man who knew something and wouldn't tell, what would you do?" The Drow returned to her seat, brushing her hair back behind her ear and she contemplated it a moment, then smiled, “I really don't think you'd want to know. However I can say my track record is impeccable when it comes to getting the answers I desire. People have a...hard time denying me.” Thankfully it seemed even Ateo was not going to push her on that one, which was good, she preferred not to torture people, she didn't really have the stomach for it but she knew how to make people talk and most of her methods didn't require her to lay a finger on a person.
"Well Miss. We would like to officially welcome you to the party. Please step through the room there and wait for others. Help yourself to drink or food. We will have your contract written up once the others have been accepted.” A smile seemed to accompany the man's words, she found that...odd? Strange guy, still at least it was over. Sliding from the seat she sauntered into the adjoining room and left the three be.
“Traynt what are you doing that woman is a rogue and a Drow on top of that!” “Perhaps so Atreo but I am sure Lord Deltran would agree with me when I said. At least she was utterly honest with us, she answered truthfully even though the truth wouldn't leave us with a good impression of her. No. I don't think we have to worry about her at all.” Ateo was again quietened and the merchant just nodded lightly.
Ateo leaned back in the chair. Outwardly, he was heated and annoyed, but inside he was smiling victoriously. He had no qualms with elves, dark skinned or light, but accomplished two goals in the heated exchange: first, he tested the drow's honesty and resolve and was satisfied with the answers. More important, he had succeeded in curbing both Marcurio and Traynt's unrealistic expectations that each person coming in was going to be a shiny armored, righteous paladin worth of every cause.
When the day had started, the other two, Marcurio especially, would have scoffed at Ateo and fought him to keep the hot blooded ranger for hire.
It was very difficult to keep the smug smile hidden, especially as the other two regarded Ateo differently, as he was not prone to outbursts and hurling insults.
'All is well that ends well,' he thought to himself as he leaned back. "Let's get the next person in here?"
Last edited by Hymusia; 11-06-2012 at 01:10 PM.
Originally Posted by Pax
All is going according to plan...
First Hymusia, then the WORLD!
Originally Posted by Pax
Really Hym? I didn't know they have doctorates in being awesome. (Double finger gun)
De'Myr was walking around in the town, looking for a job that paid well and thus went to a local tavern to get some information about high paying jobs. She had just recently discovered that one of the needed components for the revival of Lisha was diamonds, and lots of them, so she needed a job that either paid in diamonds or would get her enough money to buy some.
When she came close to the tavern, she saw a steady stream of people heading into the tavern, and just a short while after, some guards dragged out a man and a little after that, people started leaving the tavern, this piqued her interest and the curiosity was impossible to keep away.
When she entered the tavern, she could see a queue, the persons in it waiting to get into a room. She grabbed one who was exiting the tavern and asked what the queue was about. He turned around and fear shook his eyes when he looked at her. That same fear compelled him to answer her questions and he told her about a quest to find a merchant’s daughter and that they pay was good, but the prospect of running into hoards of goblins and giants had scared him off. Coward, De’Myr thought, it is people like you that cause problems for the strong, and pushed him away.
De’Myr saw another Drow go into the room and hoped that the Drow was a “true Drow” and not one more of these “untrue ones” that she had fought with for over three year in search for her vengeance and information about resurrection. De’Myr listened in on the conversation that was happening inside the room and heard angry shouts from a male and a very arrogant female voice, bragging about her abilities and finally she heard:
”Well miss. We would like to officially welcome you to the party. Please step through the room there and wait for others. Help yourself to drink or food. We will have your contract written up once the others have been accepted.”
The angry male’s shouts could be heard again through the door and a thin smile appeared on De’Myr’s face, this can get interesting; she thought and strode into the room when the next person was called.
”Oh gods be damned if it isn’t another Drow!” the man who looked like a soldier said, but the man’s words bore falsehood, as De’Myr could see that he almost looked pleased over this fact.
“Be quiet whelp, I have no interest in you” she responded and waved her hand dismissively and sat down in the chair presented to her. “You, merchant, you were hiring people for a rescue mission, yes? So get on with your questioning, I don’t have all day.”
The three men looked extremely shocked by her arrogant attitude and manners, but after a while, the man who introduced himself as Traynt asked ”Who are you and why do you want to take this job?”
“I am De’Myr Draee, priestess of Lolth and I am undertaking this job because of a personal quest, you don’t have the right to ask any more about it only that I need diamonds or money to buy diamonds for it” De’Myr responded. ”Ahem, so what skills do you have as a, priestess of Lolth?” the armoured man, who had introduced himself as Ateo asked.
“My skill set is: magic, poisoning, torture and fighting, I have been constantly fighting for four years now against all kinds of opponents.”
”Are you aware of that the area is swarming with giants and gobl…..”
De’Myr shot him an icy glance filled with venom that stopped Ateo from finishing. “Do you think that I care about some lowly giants and goblins? They are nothing compared to what I have experienced in my battles, be quit unless you have something useful to say.”
”What did you say!?” Ateo snapped at her. Now, now, let’s all be friendly towards each other” Traynt cut in. Ok, let’s get down to business. Why do you think we should hire you for this?”
“It’s either hire me and you have more fighting power, magical power and, diplomatic, power” De’Myr said with a wicked smite. “Or I’ll just go somewhere else and take my skills with me.”
”How do you intent do search for his Lordship's lost girl?”
“I might not be a tracker, but when I get the scent, I never give up and if we should find someone who might know something, I can use my, persuasion, on him or her.” ”And what is this, persuasion?”
“Easy, he can choose either an extremely slow and painful death by a combination of poison and torture, or divulge what he knows, and after he spills his guts, I’ll just kill him so that no one on his side gets to know about his betrayal.”
“But fear not, if I find the Lordship's daughter alive, she’ll be returned to unharmed, she is my “ticket” after all” De’Myr continued. “I’ll do anything to complete my quest after all” she muttered under her breath, but not aloud enough for the trio to hear her.
”I might not like your tactics, but they work, and despite not liking you, your skills are valuable” Ateo said. ”Very well, you’re hired, and even if you tried to do something stupid, I think we have enough personal to stop you” Traynt said. You can go into the next room, get some drink and food and be seated with the others while we sort out the rest of the candidates.”
“It was a, pleasure, gentlemen” De’Myr nodded. "Oh, I want my payment in diamonds if possible" she said over her shoulder and went into the next room. ”Did you two also feel a strange aura radiating from her?” Ateo asked with a thin smile on his face ”Yes, it felt like there was something watching us with a murderous glare, a big spider or something” Traynt continued. ”It felt like, it was accept her proposal or be destroyed, I’m still shivering in my boots and I feel a little sick, I just hope I don't get on her bad side” Marcurio finished.
Once inside the room, De’Myr immediately walked up to the other Drow, ignoring the rest of the group, grabbed her shoulder and asked with much malice in her voice: “Where do you come from? Are you from Thürian?” De'Myr's rage caused her aura to go uncontrolled and started shooting out all around her, engulfing the entire room. "Answer me!"
The room was filled with other beings, some of impressive...who was she kidding they all looked like pinkies, all fleshy and dependant on that giant ball of fire in the sky. No doubt they were practically blind at night, no wonder she was hired as, honestly, the best way to catch up with people or take them by surprise was at night. Offering a brief nod of her head to the gathered folk she went straight over to the table and grabbed a hearty looking tankard of ale from it and, just to balance things, a chunky red apple.
Fruit was obviously a rarity in her diet and if some muppet was going to leave the most succulent of all fruits within her grasp she was going to take it. She was a bit of an apple fiend, she couldn't help it, all red and shiny and glossy and they were so sweet! She knew it was a bit hypocritical to like 'sun fruit' but she couldn't help it and she doubted many others of her kind could either. It even appealed to her aesthetic preferences because as it was turned in her hand it seemed to reflect the colour of blood right back at her.
Without further ado she'd taken a large bite from the apple, the jagged marks from her viciously sharp teeth puncturing the skin of the fruit and leaving solid proof that a person wouldn't want to get bitten by her. While chewing. Mouth closed thankfully, she took a large gulp on her brew, which, she had to admit, was rather good, and she made her way towards the darkest little corner of the room she could find, ignoring for the most part the people around her unless she was actively passing them. Where upon she offered a grin or nod dependant on what they looked like, stuffy dick heads obviously got the grin and those who seemed to be able to have a little fun got the nod.
Just as she was getting herself settled at her table she was grabbed on the shoulder, impulse kicked in of course and her fingers dropped the succulent fruit, the flagon of ale slammed to the table. De'Myr's hand upon her shoulder was gripped at the wrist as she twisted under the other Drow's elbow and pulled the woman's arm up behind her. Vel's free hand had at some point loosed one of the throwing knives that flashed briefly before it was placed to the back of the woman's neck. “I'm going to say this once sister. You don't want to be grabbing me and you certainly don't want to be threatening me. I don't know from what pair of legs you sprung out of to think you got the right to treat me as anything but an equal but I'll happily send your pretty head back to them sans the rest of your body.”
De'Myr's aura didn't faze her at all, nor did her demanding princessy attitude. It was obvious this bitch wasn't from the Northern Mountains, from their glittering halls. She was one of those primitive fucking retards that thought violence and attitude got you everywhere. Of course it mostly did and Vel was the first to resort to such but to deal with one of these pricks? It was going to scupper her entire plan. The blade span in her hand, over the backs of her fingers like the shimmering scales of a fish in a stream before it found it's place in her holder. With all the ceremony she had grabbed her with Vel pushed the fellow Drow from her and glanced down at the floor.
Her beautiful apple bruised and dusty from the tavern floor, pale white brows knitted together in a true show of utter grief. She seemed to mourn the loss of her pretty fruit and of course she fucking did! They were so hard to come by for her, sighing she rubbed between her brows and snarled quietly. “Idiotic bloody woman.” Glancing up to the person in question she glowered and lifted the tankard from the table, “Try talking to me again when you remember how you're supposed to treat your sisters.” This was why she didn't bother with her kind, well outside of their mountain collective. Not exactly a separate species but a more enlightened one in any respect and once again these 'common Drow' proved the reason their ancestors had traversed the harsh colds and put up with the frozen mountains in the hopes of bettering, nay, saving their race.
Should she not be stopped she was going right back to the fruit table to find another apple.
Originally Posted by Pax
All is going according to plan...
First Hymusia, then the WORLD!
Originally Posted by Pax
Really Hym? I didn't know they have doctorates in being awesome. (Double finger gun)
As the second Drow moved over into the other room, the three started talking again. Traynt said, "are you sure this group will be…cohesive? They seem a very odd group with little in common."
"Traynt, you are wise but you are not a sellsword or a warrior. We do not need a common cause or common ideals." He caught himself saying 'we' and quickly corrected himself. "Sellswords and mercenaries need a JOB. That is what they are looking for. That is what binds them. It MAY be for a cause. It may be for money or gold or valor. But that is what they need and that is the glue that--." He was interrupted by voices being heard from inside the room next door. They weren't very loud, but Traynt had a spell that allowed them to listen in on what was happening and being said.
"Please calm them," Marcurio said. He was still shaky and uneasy after the two Drow. He was a merchant, and even without De'Myr's aura, he was not comfortable. Orks and humans caked in blood, these were not the types he associated with and it shook him up. He steadied himself and his resolve and forced it all down. "Please."
Traynt nodded and muttered a few words while making some hand gestures. A moment later his mouth moved, but his voice was heard from the other room. "Ladies. Please cease this immediately or you will both be asked to leave. Not only the room, but the service of our benefactor. Thank you."
"Are you well my Lord, you look tired?" Traynt studied him and noticed the battle internally that was going on, trying to steel himself and get his wits back.
Marcurio dismissively waved his hand and said "you both know I am not made for this. But I need to be here nonetheless. Thank you for your concern. Let us continue."
Ben was outside in the hall and mostly kept his gaze on the floor. Occasionally he went over his armor with his hands. He knew it wasn't necessary but he did it none the less and out of habit more than anything. He heard the door open and knew he was next, so when the guard at the door called for the next person, he stepped forward.
He moved forward and stood next to the seat and nodded his head politely, "gentlemen, good day."
"Ben, great to see you chum." Ateo's demeanor changed dramatically at that moment. He had no formality when speaking to this new man and was very warm while he was almost always professional and restrained. He went up to the man and gave him a friendly embrace. "It has been a while Ateo, hasn't it?"
"That is has. But, there are other matters more pressing than our catching up, unfortunately. Please have a seat and let us continue."
Ben nodded and sat down and one of the first things that Traynt noticed was his gaze. In spite of the smile and warm look and feel to this man, his eyes seemed…distant. As if he were lost in thought or mentally elsewhere. He looked at their feet, or at the floor, and sometimes their chest, but never did he look anyone in the eye.
"Benjamin, Ateo was pleased to hear you accepted the invitation to go on this, and we are grateful as this type of mission is normally outside of your…profession. So thank you. However, we must formally conduct this interview as Lord Deltran requires a few questions be asked."
"I understand. Who is that man?" Benjamin nodded his head slightly to indicate he meant Marcurio.
"That is the Lord's coinsman. Here to pay out if necessary."
"Indeed," Benjamin replied with a smirk.
Ateo spoke next, the casual nature from moments ago gone from his face and tone. "Why do you want this job?"
"A person who I owed a debt to called in a favor. However, in light of the circumstances, if I were unable to help out because, as stated, it's slightly outside my normal calling, I would have ensured that someone who was qualified enough would be appointed to serve."
"Well enough. Now what can you offer to us, why should we pick you?" Traynt felt awkward asking, knowing that based on what Ateo spoke of this man, he was in, but still it was a formality.
"I am well versed in combat and am level headed. I'm dependable. I am a capable tracker. Moreover, I am extremely familiar with that area, having traveled in and near it during my travels. I have actually stayed at the village several times. On top of the job, I am very eager to see what has happened to the people there."
Traynt followed up once more, "in what way do you intend to find her? And if you find someone unwilling to give up information, how would you handle that?"
Benjamin shifted in his seat and his lip made some form of hybrid between a smirk and a scowl, but still his eyes stayed low, moving to Traynt's chest as he answered. "Well between my tracking, and some of the resources I have, I intend on doing a good and proper investigation. Get to the village and look for clues or hints and go from there. Assuming we find anyone unwilling to part with information, that is…Not my area of expertise. I do not torture, however I am sure some of those you allow in will not be so refined. But in the event this person partook in a crime, and I can tie it in with that and of course, if Setveo wills it, I have some abilities to gather information and confessions from this individual. I am not blood thirsty killer."
"Very well. Thanks again for this Ben, I wan--"
Traynt cleared his throat and interrupted suddenly, "Benjamin, I do have one more question for you. Well a request of sorts. I heard about your weapon and wanted to know if--," he started.
Quickly however Ateo cut him off, his voice unusually sharp and commanding, more so than usual. "That is ENOUGH. I told you not to mention anyt--."
"It's ok Ateo," he said quickly. He smirked again slightly, but there was something behind it, a hint of sadness, tinged with amusement. "I will show him. It is…good for me occasionally."
Benjamin stood up and walked over to Traynt, his strides graceful, like the wind cutting through grass. Eyes on the table, he took his sword from the loop at his waist. It was a beautifully crafted long sword in a crimson and ebon sheath. As Benjamin handed it to Traynt, once past the initial beauty of the weapon, he noticed how extremely light it was. "Is this--."
Cutting him off, Benjamin answered the question quickly, "yes, it is."
"It's a beautiful sword. Is it true you will not unsheathe it?"
Benjamin looked over at Ateo, looking him in the eye and after a brief second, they both looked down and Benjamin audibly sighed. "It is true, I will not unsheathe it." He reached over and took it delicately and reverently, placing it back in its look and making his way towards the door, not waiting for the word, and not wanting to continue the conversation further.
"And sir, this is not a sword. This is a burden. This is a reminder."