It was early afternoon on the island of Sander’s Reach, the tall grass breaching through the rough sandy terrain wafting in the sea breeze as it careened over the rocky shore. Barely upon the horizon from the view of the castle, a ruined guard tower destroyed by time and a lack of maintenance. Typically, three stories tall much of the tower was left scattered across the ground the rubble strewn about the sand knolls. What remained was less than a crumbled husk of a sandstone tower. White smoke billowed through what was left of the second floor into the sky, noticeable for miles around. What few peaks crested above the remnants of the first floor were lined with arrow slits, a defensive measure in case of an invading force from the eastern seas.

Inside the remnants of the tower, an old wooden chair had tipped over near the remnants of a smouldering fire. The logs charred, emitting an eerie red glow beneath the white smoke that drifted into the sky. A rancid odor reminiscent of rancid meat or decaying flesh filled the air wafting from a poorly concealed heap of dung in the southern corner of the room. A pile of wood lay haphazardly against the northwestern wall - quite obviously the remains of stockades hacked apart and used to heat the small room in the chilly nighttime air. A quick glance around the room, it would not be difficult to notice a small crate filled with flasks both empty and full recognizably labeled as “oil” in the common dialect. Upon further quick inspection engravings could be seen, highlighted by a ray of sun breaking through the tattered remnants of the wooded ceiling. The written words were noticeably of a foreign tongue, their letters thing and elegant with strong flourishes at the ends. The letters were engraved above opening that quite obviously lead to a descending staircase. From within the darkness came an eerie cackling laughter, a squealing high pitched cacophony carrying up the stairwell on the northeast wall.



He had heard it from Harrold somes day before, listening from a front porch table just outside the Crow’s Nest. The King had placed a bounty on some rabble rousers towards the northern expanse of the island. But he had heard the rumors. The golden crown had been replaced by thorns that were slowly bleeding the settlement dry. Rumors as they were he was inclined to agree seeing how the island community had changed over the years. However, he was not foolhardy enough to simply believe the random twaddle speak of the locals.

Jaegar had prowled the area surrounding the tower the night before. Skulking from outcroppings of fallen rubble for most of the evening hours in an attempt to scope out the inhabitants before he would find the means to terminate their existence. He had never gotten close enough to lay eyes upon those on the inside but the smoke that poured from the top of the ruined tower that night was known for miles around as the scent of burning wood filled the night time air.



By the time he had awoken in the morning, nestled in a cozy cave created by a few pieces of the crumbling tower that had fallen together in a collection. The sun was almost directly above the island when he had finished patrolling the perimeter only to find that the fire had since burned out, billowing white in the sky. Carefully, he crept upon a lower lying slanted boulder. Peering over its edge he came to find two individuals collected in a small group near the outskirts of a small clearing near the doorway. The stood there in what seemed to be a nonthreatening manner, maybe they had already assessed the situation to be just that. Not a threat, at this particular point in time. However, he would be weary in his approach - doing so with a hand on his sword.

“Greetings strangers,” Jaegar said as he approached from the rear, “I suppose you too are here to collect the King’s ransom?”

"I find it strange, a bit amusing even, how seriously you take what it is you are speaking on. Do you not recall your earlier endeavors, your previous excursions? Men, those alike you in flesh, were just as content to take your aid as they were to speak in hushed tones behind your back - to call you 'sorcerer' and 'monster' - and to hunt you for fearful sport."

"And why would that change my heart? Surely some of them can be swayed - to see the more noble things we love just outside their stone walls. Some must know what it is they feel somewhere within the depths of their soul. How could they not?"

"Because they are mortals raised by that same like. Do not forget what it is you see and experience remains the exception, more so in their eyes. They will be just as suspicious in their willful paranoia as they were before... perhaps even greater now."

"Then it should be me to dispel those illusions of what they believe they know and prove to them not all things born wild are so mindlessly vicious, that some are instead beautiful and wondrous. If I can -"

"If you could, you would succeed where others of your blood have long since failed before. However, I still consider your desire to show them favor, immense pardon at that, noble and even in its own way charming. I will not hamper your efforts... but do not consider it explicit permission. I have no interest in you throwing away your youth, your life, on a matter of risk we could in time tend to."

"You shall return to me and the call of the world whenever we summon."

"I shall."

"And you will..."

---

It was of no surprise that the journey to the foreign land itself was a special endeavor. Fortune was it that the younger man had means to make the trip, in particular by avoiding those places one might expect to find travelers. He had no reason to fear the surrounding wilderness that accompanied the roads, not like the merchant or peasant; he was never truly quite alone. At the same time however, he made the worthwhile effort to not arouse suspicion whenever the chance came as hiding in the woods when others were about was a fair way to do just that. He conversed with these unsuspecting men, women and children with no appearance other than a robed vagabond devoid of anything of value. In turn, having neither bothered them for alms nor aid, they seldom took problem with his company as brief as it might have been.

There was a relief in his heart that he had no need to perform any of the gifts he had been blessed with; a wanderer in brown, thick clothes that followed in slight upon dusted paths bearing a single sheathed blade who could perform minor miracles might attract unwanted company. Not that he would have denied them, not in the slightest of course, but he had no desire to yet go beyond what he had planned. It was already such a dangerous effort that he could only muse on how many ways it could go; it rightfully worried him, nature's favor or not. Not a question of fear like that many had of death, but of failure.

It steadied his nerves whenever he recalled that this was his one great chance to start the turn of the tide. In fact, it kept him the most company on the dark nights he spent travelling, more so than his actual companion.

At last when he did yet arrive to his destination he found himself not quite so alone; a lithe woman of athletic build and figure, marked by vibrant red hair seemed to be the only other company the wanderer had. She carried little more than a pack of what he could only assume to be her travelling stock, but moreover she was armed and armored - with a pointed spear and metal studded leathers. Regularly this would be some cause for alarm, but the young man was not completely uninitiated; certainly not naïve at that. What odds were it that such a distinct woman was a foe rather than a potential friend? It was immensely unlikely she was here, with the ruined tower looming in the distance with an apparent fire still burning, for any other reason than she too answered the call to arms.

Outwardly so minimalistic to her, he made no attempt to hide as he followed the road which was flanked by tall grass and spots of open sand not far from the sea itself. When he drew near enough, his humbly bound feet slowing in step, he spoke audibly to her;

"I must ask, are you as well headed to that ruin? I mean no offense in this question, just that you seem of the determined sort."

---

It was on approach to the tower that the traveler, with his added company, did screen the building's fading architecture; how it had so clearly decayed and fallen into disrepair, worked over by nature in many, many years. It concerned him some that this was the place they were sent by the summons, being so confined and small. He knew well what blessings that did entail, but he was unsure if the woman at his side now would even be accepting of it. After all, it had been one thing to agree to travel with a strange man who had nothing more than a lonely worn iron dagger and old robes to a fallen tower, but another to have him practicing magic or more on whim.


The two had halted, as the man prepared to converse, but another stranger seemed to arise behind them from his hiding. He appeared as mercenary as one could in truth, enough that it prepared the druid for a fight, but his spoken word did not seem overtly harmful. A trap perhaps this was, but at least they were not truly alone against the man with his pair of swords and strung bow. Resting idly upon the hilt of one of those blades did he address them both.

"Greeting strangers, I suppose you too are here to collect the King's ransom?"

"I will not speak for her business," The man gestured, the long outstretched sleeve of his drab earth robe motioned toward the woman slow enough so as not to be threatening, "But you could say that I am here on a similar quest."

Carefully with clam mind, body and spirit, he tried to look over the added company; he would rather another friend than foe, but something about this man seemed that he was just as wary of them as they were him. A positive sign, but not everything one could judge the situation of off. The air smelled of smoke, a bit rancid at that, with the structure behind them appearing quite disorganized but only time would tell further when or if they would ever be able to venture into it.

"And what of you sir?"

@ELGainsborough@Yamazaki

Keris, by her very nature, was an adventurer at heart. Sure, she could've turned to theivery easily ages ago, and had in the past, but let's face it, the live of adventure had much more promise. The danger and reward in such a lifestyle called to her in ways nothing else could. And to be honest, the red hair makes it much harder to be sneaky, so it would be very difficult to be a quality thief...

* * * * *

As the red-haired woman traveled towards the ruined tower, just as the job boarded requested, she discovered she wasn't the only one headed that way. A man in heavy robes and a cloak walked towards the ruins. He slowed his stride to allow Keris to catch up, although she had no intent originally. She had her spear at the ready, as well as a couple of daggers poorly hidden in her boots. He spoke up once the distance was shorter. "I must ask, are you as well headed to that ruin? I mean no offense in this question, just that you seem of the determined sort."

Keris wanted to roll her eyes as obviously as she could, but she resisted the urge to be mean. Instead, she spoke back, "I could throw that question right back at ya. You're obviously trying to pull the whole 'mysterious' gimmick, which means you're going for the exact same thing as a crazy out-of-towner like me would: Gold and Glory. But yeah, I'm headed for the ruins." She shrugged. "But I suppose I could use the back-up on this, assuming you're out here for the same thing. If this is as terrible as the job posting claimed, this isn't likely to be easy. Otherwise a few locals would've already did the job and claimed the reward by now."

* * * * *

The rest of the journey was fairly quiet, which Keris was actually grateful for.



Another man, coming out from hiding, approached the two, speaking of rewards. Keris sighed. "No, we're just sight-seeing. I heard this was a wonderfully romantic place to bring one's lover..." Sarcasm dripped like venom from her voice. The red-head's voiced returned to normal as she continued, "So lemme guess - another adventurer trying to fight his way into fame and fortune?" She shrugged. "So, I guess introductions are in order..." She didn't continue.

[ooc] lemme know if the colors work or not. I try to make sure dialog has focus so that it can be easily spotted. You can blame my time on Gaia for that... [/ooc]
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@ELGainsborough

"I could throw that question right back at ya. You're obviously trying to pull the whole 'mysterious' gimmick, which means you're going for the exact same thing as a crazy out-of-towner like me would: Gold and Glory. But yeah, I'm headed for the ruins."

The strange woman proved to shrug in a manner one might mistake as initially haughty or arrogant, to which the man felt in first instinctual reaction. Why would anyone seek those things out and wager their life on? The thought seemed foreign at first, but the further he distanced himself from just that - himself - the more sense it all made. The notice was very much a promise of reward, more so one granted by the nobility of the region, just not the same kind as he sought out.

"But I suppose I could use the back-up on this, assuming you're out here for the same thing. If this is as terrible as the job posting claimed, this isn't likely to be easy. Otherwise a few locals would've already did the job and claimed the reward by now."

She quickly continued, still at the ready with the point of her spear should he have been so willful to try anything. The man however, proved not so trying and more confused than anything. His expression was one of lacking understanding, yet it only disappeared when he composed himself to reply in turn.

"You would be wrong in truth, as I am neither here for gold nor glory. Business yes, but not those ones." He said calmly, moving with his hand in a manner to emphasize the negative, "As for the nature of this task? I take it to be of some danger, which is why I do not travel alone but... wherever my friend is off to he is of no danger while I am well."

"This said, I have no issue with us going together to the tower."

Off into the distance he looked briefly, examining the ruin then back to the woman whose boots but partially concealed her other weapons. She seemed as hostile in person as she looked in body, threatening a poorly armed man dressed in worn-in robes. At least she was not foolish - appearances were most deceiving, so in its own way her reaction was appreciated. The young druid had need of allies in the world here, one so clearly rooted in it would be even better, especially with such wariness as to not trust only what she saw.

@Yamazaki

He had no intuition to suspect the kind of danger he could have been in. Stalked like the unsuspecting sheep carolled in on a farmer’s land. As often times it occurs in the wild the hunter becomes the hunted. But as always he was ready. He would not be caught off guard by those gathered harboring ulterior motives. It was obvious they were foreigners. What did they have on the line, he wondered? For Jaegar, this was personal. This was a means to protect his home. If this mess could be handled swiftly, whatever was left in the mines could be exploited to help bolster the community. It was a dwindling prospect to say the least, but as long as there was hope.



As Jaegar approached, he would not remove his hand from the sword at his belt, “Aye, a similar quest in deed.”

Jaegar began to step around the outsiders. He looked them up and down examining their profiles. Typically, he would do such matters on the fly. However, as he was about to delve into what could potentially be smaller than a jail cell he felt he needed to do it now. Known weapons may be dangerous but left unnoticed and one could end up with dagger in his backs at the most inopportune time. Or maybe a tiger’s jaws wrapped around his throat.

“Around here, I’m called Jaegar.” The ranger said as he repositioned himself to stand in between the newcomers and the ruined tower. “Sander’s Reach is my home, which is a lot more than I can say for that tiger you’ve got prowling around out there.” He snarked pointing out into the distance where he had caught a glimpse of the big cat. “But whatever is hunkered down in here - it’s a problem for us here.”

Dropping his left hand, Jaegar laid hand on the hilt of the dagger at his other hip. Turning sideways he made it as to keep his eye on both the party and the door. He would not be caught off guard.

“Shall we?”

@Yamazaki @The Harbinger of Ferocity

@ELGainsborough@The Harbinger of Ferocity

Keris shrugged. She glanced at the tiger that Jaegar mentioned. How did I miss that? Gotta start paying attention... The spellthief returned her attention to the group. "The name's Keris Mardok. Adventuring spellthief. I'm ready whenever you two, er, three," she glanced again at the tiger, "are ready." She did a quick mental checklist on her gear, making sure she has enough food, water, and tools for whatever might happen.

[ooc] Short post is short... [/ooc]

The man sauntered himself into the discussion, being so kind as to reveal his own stakes in the quest at hand and what interest he seemed to have in its varied rewards. There was no reason in large to believe him otherwise, as fortune seemed to have it; he appeared enough of a local, both in dress and demeanor. If anyone concerned him some, it was the woman who called herself "thief" - not that the man had anything of interest that he felt was under threat, just that the notion was concerning. In particular for whatever a "spellthief" was, which brought about more question that he could only hope would in time be answered.

"If this island is your home, Jaegar, then what was this place to you and your people? Do you know anything of it?"

The robed man began as the woman finished eyeing carefully the tiger, only to then step past her and toward the new addition to their seemingly growing collective. He briefly paused, shifting his eyes back to the accompanying beast and with a wordless exchange, roused it from the grass with a swiftness to its step, drawing it in much nearer. Guiding it, almost with thought as it so seemed, the animal kept its distance from the three at the moment.

"I would rather not be wholly unsure what we are likely to meet in this tower's rubble."

He gestured in slight with his fingers, signaling the beast once more and at last encouraging it to close to his side. Once there, its attention was called forward and watchful of the door before them; the two, man and animal, shared only a moment of contact as the same hand of earlier pat the thickness of the feline's pelt. Of many beasts this one was well attended to and very much a living weapon, perhaps the foreign man's only one, but without a doubt a deadly tool at that...

@Yamazaki@ELGainsborough

He took a deep breath. Jaegar began to look around. His eyes seemed to glaze over. His expression solemn. A subtle grin crept over his enshrouded visage. He looked to the guests that he had intruded upon. The shake in his head was ever so subtle. The hand that once clutched the hilt of his long sword relaxed. With a few strides away from the gathering Jaegar found a quaint place to lean rest his back against. It was a larger piece of the crumbled tower, big enough to keep the sun from beating down on his wilderness colored traveled cloak.

“I wasn’t alive for its days of glory, overlooking the rocky shore to the east. A perfect place to keep an eye out for enemy ships.”

After reaching to his side, Jaegar withdrew a very plain looking pipe. Made of simple wood, he tapped it on the rock. A small barrage of black specks fell to the ground, the pipe leaving a blackened smudge on the stone. With his other hand, Jaegar had already retrieved a small bit of weed from a side pouch and had began to pack it in chamber. When he was satisfied the ranger pulled a tindertwig from his vestments. With a quick flip of the wrist the small piece burst into a tiny flame that was quickly raised to the bowl of the pipe that had found a pleasant resting place in between his lips. With a few quick puffs, he tossed the match to the ground and snuffed out the fire with his boot.

“The island we know today is but a shadow of its former self. But that was a time when everyone wanted a piece of the mystery. Whatever it was. At the very least it was a very strategic location for ventures into the west.”

Jaegar paused for a few moments to smoke his pipe. He looked into the sky, envisioning his not so fortunate beginnings here.

“Catapults and ballistae lined the hilltop.” He said pointing out in the distance with the stem of his pipe. “They may not have had ships to launch but the small regiment that was positioned here was enough to fend off those who made it to shore. Story told, if I remember correctly, a few catapult bearing ships made short work of it before making landfall. I believe that was two or three generations ago. The King wasn’t even a twinkle.”

He took another drag on his pipe.

“Shall we?”

@The Harbinger of Ferocity @Yamazaki

"Long since 'abandoned' I see then." The man said, idly observing Jaegar's puffing then motioning with the aged pipe.

One subtle gesture later, he guided his companion forward to act as a fearsome living wall, being keen to follow just behind in footsteps at first. Once the motion was underway, he proved to slow and see to who would be next in the order underway. If anyone he would prefer Jaegar, given the man might know a thing or too beyond what he had been willing to share, but the "thief" of Kerris would do just as well. His almost ferine eyes under his hood looked to them both questioningly.

"I appreciate your insight, Jaegar." He added, giving only the faintest of smiles with his words, "Before it eludes me, I am the man known as Geraint."

It was not what he had hoped for, but there was nothing that could be done about that. If even the local men and women were unsure of what dangers lay here, it was time to err further on caution. The wisest of actions would not be to blindly storm what appeared to be a labyrinthine structure of decaying rubble; no, the likelihood whoever called this "home" was prepared for that. Perhaps more than ready for mundane soldiers and at best an accompanying cleric, not a small group.

"I am no able fighter with my dagger, unlike as you two appear to be, but I will be guiding our friend. I would prefer not to be so close if possible... that and I have not the faintest what trickery men might be partial to - that's assuming we are even hunting men."

"There are a few other talents I possess, but let us hope we needn't make use of those." The outsider's lips further admitted, but he shared little else beyond that, instead staring into the ruined archway as attentively as he could manage. With a few steps beyond that, he drew closer to it yet off to the side but a few feet from his wild cohort.


@ELGainsborough@Yamazaki

Geraint was wonderfuly vague in his description of his talents, which caused Keris to roll her eyes. Still the mysterious cliche, huh... Although with a damn tiger at his command, I'd wager he's a druid. Meanwhile pipe-man is more of a fightery type, likely either archery or light-fighter. Well, this could be... interesting. Gods I hope I don't die down there. That'd just suck. With nothing more than a shrug, the red-haired spellthief ventured into the ruins. "Let's get this thing started. The longer we wait, the longer it takes to be done with this job..." She kept her eyes open for traps, hoping not to find any...

(searching for traps = 25. Also Keris will light a torch if it starts getting dark in the ruins, which I suspect will be very soon.)

Inside the remnants of the tower, an old wooden chair had tipped over near the remnants of a smouldering fire. The logs charred, emitting an eerie red glow beneath the white smoke that drifted into the sky. A rancid odor reminiscent of rancid meat or decaying flesh filled the air wafting from a poorly concealed heap of dung in the southern corner of the room. A pile of wood lay haphazardly against the northwestern wall - quite obviously the remains of stockades hacked apart and used to heat the small room in the chilly nighttime air. A quick glance around the room, it would not be difficult to notice a small crate filled with flasks both empty and full recognizably labeled as “oil” in the common dialect. Upon further quick inspection engravings could be seen, highlighted by a ray of sun breaking through the tattered remnants of the wooded ceiling. The written words were noticeably of a foreign tongue, their letters thing and elegant with strong flourishes at the ends. The letters were engraved above opening that quite obviously lead to a descending staircase. From within the darkness came an eerie cackling laughter, a squealing high pitched cacophony carrying up the stairwell on the northeast wall.

As the party entered tiger, spellthief, ranger, druid - Keris would be pleased to discover that not a single trap was to find. From one corner of the room to the other it was clean, doorway and all.

Upon inspection, while Geraint’s attempts were little more than futile his search would reveal that the small crate while containing a number of empties also held six full flasks of oil. But his search would also uncover that the engraving on the wall was a warning written in elvish - “Weary eyes, the wolf strikes.”



As with the others, Jaegar would breach the cracked portcullis into the remains of the fallen guard tower along with the rest of him. After finding the means to hide his pipe away the Ranger unslung the bow from his shoulder and notched an arrow. Little did he know what to expect. While he had explored the island to an extent that mimicked thoroughness, he preferred the wild. His time dungeoneering was spent in caves, the foothills of the northern mountain, even the strange tunnel system that worked as the sewers. But there had always been something about this tower that had put Jaegar at unease. In fact, if it were not for the party that he had the fortune of encountering, he would have failed to found the mental fortitude to delve the depths on his own accord.



Jaegar took up a defensive position behind the thief. He bent and contorted his form around the stone frame of the doorway. The range hid, protected from detection from inside inhabitants and did so quite well. He led with his arrow drawn, aiming for anything that may be disturbed by their presence. But just as the tiger and Keris had entered unharmed, so did Jaegar. He relaxed his arrow and lowered his bow.

“Few better signs than a clear room in the dark, aye?” Jaegar would quip.



While he would not waste a great deal of time on the matter; however, if there was one thing that Jaegar had learned throughout his life discovering the island land around him was that every new location was worth a once over. So he took the time to search. While not searching for any particular he would find that there were still half a dozen full flasks of oil in the crate. Continuing his search of the room would allow a glint of moonlight to catch Jaegar’s eye. It was not a brilliant dazzling light as if the sun had caught a mirror but just enough to draw his attention. Upon inspection Jaegar would find a small cache of treasure. Quickly he snatched up four gold coins. He did not hide his possession but pocketed the coins nevertheless. But what was more surprising was what this small discovery had led to. His jostling of the crate had disturbed the hay and stone that lay scattered around the crate. In doing so Jaegar discovered something spectacular. Tarnished as it was, it was still a set of full plate mail.

“The gods smile upon us on this night. Mayhaps it is safe to leave this here, if only until we --”



“Mani naa lye waitien ten'? Manka lye uma il- pelekta rato eller nothien hyarya.”

It would have been nearly inaudible to the others. It was only by chance that Jaegar had picked up on it. It just so happened by chance that it was the only other language that he understood aside from the common tongue.
“We are not a lone. Down there,” the Ranger pointed towards the only staircase that descended into darkness, “elves lay in wait, restless, anxious perhaps?’

He tightened his fingers around the fletching of his arrow, drawing it back slightly against the string. He aimed towards the breach in the floor that preceded the staircase that descended into the bowels of the tower.

“Well…”

@Yamazaki @The Harbinger of Ferocity

Heddwyn was late! He caught the forms of several figures - hired men like himself, probably - entering the ruined tower. Who else could they be, if they willingly came here? Of the few commoners he'd spoken to, all showed traces of fear at his mention of the place, and plenty tried changing the subject. It seemed nobody wanted anything to do with it, and that gave the king the desperation he needed to start hiring out foreigners. Heddwyn started towards the tower, picking up his pace. He didn't fancy the idea of getting left behind in a place with such dark reputation.

He reached the entrance after several moments and peeked his head around the corner of the portal. The fellows from earlier were inside, or rather, fellows and a lady. More surprising was the tiger at their side, a rare lord of faraway jungles.
Cautiously, as not to make an enemy of the creature - although he suspected it had sensed him long ago - Heddwyn ducked inside. One of the three was already prepping for danger, arrow notched and ready to be loosed at a moment's notice.
That gave Heddwyn pause, so he readied his own arms, then said in a harsh whisper, "Are you here on behalf of the king as well?"

He didn't address any of them in particular, but expected the man with the bow to answer first. He seemed like he had a handle on things. In any case, upon seeing Pelor's visage on his tabard, the'd know his purpose.

"Weary eyes, the wolf strikes." Geraint proved to mutter the same words as he kept the beast beside him under his control.

"I take it for whatever reason, elves might have something to do with this - as to better or worse, I do not know. The scrawling is a bit unexpected. I take this as forewarning not to be so trusting of our environment as we delve deeper."

The robed man cast a sigh, stroking his stubbled cheek with a few fingers before shaking his head. He had no issue with elves, be them wood or wild, but men oft found them opposed for one reason or another. Then again, mortals had proven content to war with one another for most any reason, going so far as to call upon terrible powers to these ends. At least such seemed unlikely here; whatever danger lied in wait was probably not quite of that unabashed vileness...

It was for a time the man followed, his fingers flexed ever so slightly in alert - ready to call upon nature's otherworldly power if it was so needed. Yet, in fact, it had not between the various chances matters had to go poorly. Jaeger seemed more comfortable in this dark, musty den than the outsider did; at least someone had that sort of experience. The thief-woman, or whatever she actually was, proved quiet but watchful, perhaps more so when Jaeger pocketed a few rogue coins.

"Plate? Strange..."

But before Geraint could continue further, the mercenary man that seemed to be Jaeger's character paused with alertness abounding, referring to a noise that might have fallen on less observant ears - even the druid's. It was likely only because the man pointed it out, and the tongue itself familiar, that he was able to determine it at all.


"Those words are familiar-"

But it was not the man of the wilds to interrupt, but the subtle snark of the tiger, whose curved ebony ears drew back. Its jowls flashed with tremendous, pearly fangs and it's footing maneuvered it back once more to defend the cadre of three from a nearing sound from behind.

A man with strange tabard, armor and weapon in tow, spoke; "Are you here on behalf of the king as well?"

With a staying motion, the druid silenced the grand cat's concerns and motioned to his own ear with his free hand while the other rested on the beast itself. The quieting gesture suggested something else was afoot and certainly to listen; after all, a man bearing priestly ordained armor and seemingly serving the land was not so much the danger as potentially ambushing elves...

@Aristo@ELGainsborough@Yamazaki

As the party ventured into the ruins, Keris kept her eyes peeled for traps. This wasn't her first dungeon crawl, although she was hardly experienced. But she understood her role at this juncture - make sure nothing goes off and kills the group. Or at least herself. The ranger found coins, but there were too few for the spellthief to make a fuss about them - a few gold was not much. Likewise, the discovery of the fullplate interested her, as it'd still sell for a decent amount of coin, but upon the ranger's sudden silence, Keris understood.

[ Keris makes an effort to listen in on the elves, furthermore elvish is one of her languages known: Listen check: 19 ]

Then another figure appeared from behind. Gods, we're surrounded! Wait, no... Of course, another one of these idiots. Cleric of Pelor maybe? Keris quickly twisted her head back, putting a finger to pursed lips, and quickly shushed the newcomer. The spellthief didn't want those within to spot the group's approach. Thinking quick, Keris smirked. The new guy was in heavier armor than the rest. The woman spoke quietly. "You're late. Keep quiet, there's someone up ahead - and you're on point."

[ Initiative, as requested: 15 ]

“Mani naa lye waitien ten'? Manka lye uma il- pelekta rato eller nothien hyarya.”

The words were faint, resting upon a stagnant wind that hesitated over the descending staircase. The words were obviously elfish in nature as everyone in the party would understand upon hearing them.

“What are we waiting for? If we do not strike soon, there will be nothing left!”

But what could this information mean? Could it be put into perspective in conjunction with the words scrawled on the wall? ”Weary eyes, the wolf strikes.” Elves were not indigenousness to the island. Of course, anyone who is even remotely familiar with the tales of the island would be able to say that the first people of the island were entirely unknown. Sure there were stories but no one could say whether or not they were true. So while this particular saying may not have been common its origins may not have been known to anyone.

However, the party of new acquaintances would not dawdle in the relatively small enclosure. They had to sally forth and carry onward. They would do so presumably in the same as they had found it prudent to act making their way into the bowels of the tower. The staircase seemed typical constructed of the natural limestone that covered the island, very similar to the tower. The staircase would lead to a landing. It was small in design; however, large enough to accommodate the four members of the party minus the tiger who would probably take up residence on the stairs. From that landing, further down another flight of stairs a doorway could be seen. It was ajar, apparent by the shred of light that fragmented the darkness.

[hider=Important Note]
Initiative/Order - Geraint’s Tiger >> Jaegar >> Keris >> Geraint >> Heddwyn

I have taken the liberty of rolling initiative of Heddwyn (@Aristo) since you’ve neglected to do so, which is okay. I’ve also rolled for Jaegar. The above is the current party order. I felt it was easier to maneuver by initiative. So make your moves and roll whatever checks you think you should make .



Crouching down perhaps near the top of the staircase peering down towards the slightly opened door. He tilted his head. He tried to listen as if attempting to discern the happenings in the room below. It was most unfortunate, perhaps a sudden throbbing making it difficult to ascertain. It was unfortunate, that the landing was so tiny no more than five by five feet. He would have preferred to use his bow. But in such close confines it would be difficult to properly draw his bow. Instead, he readied his blades, drawing sword and dagger in unison holding them as close to his figure as possible in order to evade hurting any of his new acquaintances. However, he waited for another to take the lead.





@Yamazaki @The Harbinger of Ferocity @Aristo

Obedient, as much as any great cat tamed by mutual understanding and relation could be with a touch of divinely granted powers over nature, the tiger remained quite still and quite calm; nothing but the slow rise and fall of its chest and subtle moving of its ears to indicate it was anything more than a living statue at this point. Its golden eyes, in the dim light, narrowed and searched as it prepared whatever defense it needed to mount. It was a game played between predator and prey, where men's lives took the place of those of boars or other beasts of the land. It was the patting of the earthy robed man's hand that guided the feline, to which the man turned his attention away from the newcomer's presence.


"The elves seem to be eager, worried that if they do not act soon that "there will be nothing left". I can try to talk them down - please at least let me try." The man uttered quietly, eyeing Jaegar's producing of two fine blades and keeping them close to his figure, "Stay your hands?"


As quietly as he spoke, he knew they might be discovered, but even if they were perhaps at least one of them knew the common tongue of men and other races, that perhaps the entire ordeal could be avoided in full if. The druid's eyes seemed pleading, sincerely, but just as ready to do whatever must be done; at least, he hoped, his companion would make quick work of it if the wandering woodsman and his fine swords couldn't. Life was not always a pleasant thing, but this all seemed strange. All he could do was wait, wait and hope that they had a chance. If there were monsters deep within this tunnel, perhaps what the elves seemed concerned of - as best the man could guess - then allies were better than enemies to be made.

@ELGainsborough@Yamazaki@Aristo

Keris allowed the man to attempt his diplomacy. She was a woman of little tact, but she understood the value of trying to avoid a fight. However, she steeled herself for a fight, given it was unlikely that they would stand down.

[ Keris readies an action to attack if the elves rush the party ]

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@ELGainsborough@Aristo

"I assure you - stay your arms and we shall as well. At least share the reasoning for your intentions as we might have a common enemy here, more than either of us know." The man began as he started his slow descent down the steps, the tiger close behind him, ready at moment's notice to defend it's sworn ally.

"'Weary eyes, the wolf strikes.' Was that your phrase upon the wall?" He continued in hushed, eloquent word, his hands remaining visibly above his sides and far from his dagger.

The druid drew no closer than he needed, stopping at the landing and observing the crack of light that stretched from somewhere below. The entire time he spoke he did so calmly, but willingly neglected to inform them of the tiger lurking but not more than a few feet behind him, poised and prepared to mount what would surely be an absolutely savage defense if called on. One Geraint himself was quite capable of, but these elves... something was off, that they still seemed worried, concerned and hurried by some unknown force. His elven was flawless, but the nature of the situation made even that little comfort.

Sincerely he doubted them to be the true enemy, whatever the source of light being beyond perhaps held the true foe to face...

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Yamazaki@Aristo

With the belief that the use of a bow would be extremely dangerous, the ranger crept down the staircase with both weapons drawn. While his archery skills were slightly better than his two-weapon fighting skills, the ranger had a sort of air of arrogance about him that required satisfaction. Slowly the ranger moved silently pressing his back against the stone wall for balance. He moved carefully, slowly - each step calculated to ensure that his presence was not known. He was careful to avoid the light of the that crept betwixt the slightly open door. Quietly he hid against the wall with his hand braced against the door.

Pressing his ear to the door Jaegar tried to ascertain what exactly was going on beyond the portcullis that separated the stairwell from the room beyond. Of course, the results would not squelch his progression. Slowly, the ranger stood up pressing his left hand (his dagger hand) against the door opening it and pressing onward. He did not rush in; however, instead he meandered as if walking with confidence.

“Vedui' iant Tel'Quessir, amin estela amin'm il- mor lle kaima.” Jaegar jested, which for those who were fluent in the language of the elf would understand it to mean, “Greetings, old boys I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”



Slowly, he followed behind the ranger. Little could he prepare to understand what exactly they were getting into. However, that would be the similar thinkings of the entire group. No one could truly know for sure what exactly was going on. Before moving, he pulled back the draw on his light crossbow and placed a bolt with the track. He readied it at his shoulder ready to attack.

The cleric mimicked the ranger’s movement. His scale mail scraping against the wall. Every step mimicking the rangers. However, one faulty maneuver put a damper on their plans. The Cleric had opted to trudge along the opposite wall across from the Ranger. Unfortunately for him, it put directly in the beam of light that erupted from the small part in the doorway.

He too would quickly follow Jaegar’s foot steps as he walked through the doorway.



Perhaps it was something about his dialect. Or maybe it was the inflection of his voice. The totem druid was not as savvy with the language as he might have thought. For encountering full-blooded elves on this island is particularly rare. More importantly, even the most naive islander would be well aware that the majority of true blooded elves are outsiders and typically find little solace in this particular location given its small perimeter. On any accord, it was needless to save that the druids attempt to fake out these elves was unsuccessful. At least it was unsuccessful in tricking the elves beyond the door.

As the Ranger and the Cleric breached the doorway their armor was pricked by the smallest of needles. Little time had they wasted in searching the door for traps. They would not find the means to. Luckily for the two of them they would not feel much more than the bite of a mosquito at this early junction in their career. It would not be enough to stop their movement.

Unfortunately, the druids words had found one slight drawback. It prompted the three elves on the other side of the doorway to take position against the far wall of the 25’ by 25’ square room with longbows drawn at the ready. As the ranger and the cleric breached the doorway before the remaining two party members they meet with three arrows flying through the air. While the Ranger was able to evade the flying arrows the cleric was unfortunate enough to take two of the three arrows squarely before he could even see it coming.

The elves wouldn’t waste any time. Their longbows were cast aside and they resorted to the use of long swords readying themselves for battle.

The three elves came forward. They rushed to meet the enemy. Three attacks were launched at the two individuals who found it prudent to interrupt their elfish toiling while counting the seconds before it was time for them to strike. But it would seem that the time to strike was now. The time had been brought to them, presented them and it was confronted with a particular zeal that was more accustomed to those who truly had the intent to achieve their goal.

Blade came darting from one side and another. The clashing of steel blades against iron studs and scale mail rang throughout the room, reverberating up through the staircase alerting the two left behind of the imminent combat. The elves eyes widened as the ranger and the cleric (particularly the cleric) had managed to dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge the fury of blades that they launched at their opponent. With every missed attack the elves found themselves more dumbfounded that they were unsuccessful in their attacks. Little could they understand what was coming for them.

Kerris had been on edge since their delve into the depths began and at the first sign of trouble, the onset of combat, she was more than ready. She moved from the opening of the door and to the far side of the next, where the cloaked man and the priest seemed to be locked in combat now; the clatter of steel ringing out. Nearly sliding across the dusty floor in her studded leather boots, she ably put herself into an opportune spot to strike from, using the armor of her ally as her shield. With the reach of her weapon, a long, pointed spear she launched out an attack from just behind the servant of the sun, the weapon darting like a lash from around his side.




Like a blinding flash of living lightening, the great cat threw itself into the fray with startling speed from behind the man it paid heed to, who in return made no effort to unwisely impede its snarly advance. It came from the stairs and through the doorway, covering the room in between just as Kerris had, delivering with a blurring paw a vicious slash to the nearest of its foes - it cared not, let alone knew not, as to prefer the cleric or the ranger's enemy, striking only at the first threat it knew.

The sheer force and violence of the surprise strike against the now seemingly ill prepared elven ambushers was remarkable. The room stormed by man, woman and now beast, the animal companion visibly bristled its orange, striped body and withdrew the attacking paw.


@ELGainsborough