Chromane

Hailstorm: A Burdened World

I'd be interested in joining up; this sounds interesting.
What kind of technology are we talking about? Like obviously it's post apocalyptic to a degree, was there a modern level of tech before the hail?

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

Posted, may put some minor edits up, but nothing major.
@Everyone; Tell me what you think?

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

Roderick ran deeper into the twisting maze of the castle's back passages, his mind still reeling from the terrible visions he had received of the Royal Family's fate. He snarled and shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but it was no use; he knew the images would be imprinted on his memory for the rest of his life. Which, given the circumstances, mightn't be an overly long time.

The sound of his hurried footsteps bounced off the cold stone walls and mixed with the din of battle and the weak cries of the wounded until it was impossible to tell where any of it came from. He supposed it was a mixed blessing; he would be harder to track, but he wouldn't be able to tell if anyone was ahead of him until he was right on top of them. Absently he noted he was still holding the carved wooden bowl in one hand and quickly stowed it in its pouch, glad he'd reflexively kept hold of it in the confusion. It wasn't some powerful magical item; it was just useful, and one of the few reminders of his adopted father and mentor he had left.

Roderick entered the room that had served as the guard-post for the dungeon entrance and blanched at the sight of the armored door hanging from a single hinge, a gleeful howling rising from below . A contingent of soldiers had obviously been sent to secure the high-value prisoners being kept below the castle in order to stop any of the beleaguered defenders getting any ideas about revenge or hostages. Then he was past it, a burst of speed carrying him as far away as possible, He had no desire to be nearby when the soldiers returned upstairs with the freedom drunk prisoners - some of whom he'd helped capture in the first place.

As he ran on, there was a great clamor of crashing and splintering wood that echoed through the corridors, though he couldn't place where it came from. Suddenly an inhumanly tall and thin figure with golden hair stepped out from up ahead, holding a short sword in both hands. Roderick gave a short cry of alarm and jumped to one side, colliding with the wall as he awkwardly tried to avoid running full pelt onto the sword into the narrow corridor. Luckily the figure seemed to recognize him and lowered the sword as he approached. It didn't stop him from having one hand on his knives before her identity finally clicked.

"Roderick?!" Lin'Lise said, "Can you get us out of here?".

"Yes m'lady". Roderick replied, adding the honorific automatically. Years of intensive etiquette lessons and life in the Royal Court had made the response instinctive. The vaelie-lorenvolk wasn't his favorite person in the Court, but right now he was happy to see someone not wearing enemy colors. His heart sank more at the blood on her hands and clothes, and he knew without saying what she'd been through. Seeing her also made him wonder which other members of the Court and staff might still be alive and present, though he had no idea how he'd find them without running into more enemy soldiers. "I was doubling back around to the east side - there's a hidden passage that can take us out of the castle proper" he explained, starting to head off in the same direction he'd been heading.

"We need to keep an eye out for anyone friendly still around" he said, building back up to his previous pace, although now trying to keep a better eye out, as he now knew there could still be allies in the castle, and considering he'd nearly got impaled.

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

Working on my reply now, should get it up in the next day or so.

Letters From Home

Neat concept, very interested to be a part of this!

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

My impression was that it was the same courtyard - the main one inside the keep at the base of the King's tower. There may indeed be other courtyards around.

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

King Erasmus VI, the Supreme Ruler of Altranor, known as Erasmus the Indomitable, dressed in only his underclothes and missing his right arm at the elbow and already beyond the aid of any magic known to man, crashed through the roof of the royal pigsty with a sickening thud and the sound of splintered wood and shattered tile. Roderick de Walden, moments previously the Court Sage to the Royal Court of Altranor and sworn vassal and friend to the King, was powerless to do anything but watch as everything he had ever known came crashing down around him.

"NO! No, No, No no nonono..." Roderick yelled, trailing off into desperate mumbling as visions of the Royal Family's bloody and brutal end assaulted his mind. Images of the Queen, fair and regal in life, her throat cut so deep her head hung by a thread above her mangled body. Crown Prince Alfred, his corpse in three pieces in front of the remains of his children. Again and again he saw the brutal fates of the Royal Family, until all hope for a reprieve had been extinguished. Every last root and branch had been burnt out with gleeful, callous cruelty. The proud kingdom of Altranor had well and truly fallen.

Roderick saw red.

He knew he had mere minutes, if that, before the courtyard was swarming with Ghantian troops, but if he was lucky, minutes would be all he’d need. He knew it was stupid and risky, and that it would probably get him killed, but he didn't care; he wanted to see them bleed, and he had the magic to do it.

He broke cover, running fast and low across the courtyard, sheer animal instinct guiding his movements as he closed on the pigsty. Most of the soldiers had gone into the tower to participate in the slaughter, or to loot the castle, leaving just two on watch in the courtyard; standing by the entrance to the pigsty, laughing at the fate of the dead King.

Not slowing, Roderick drew his long knives, charging the first man with an wordless yell of fury, using his momentum and the sharp point of the knife to drive it home through the armour. The second man turned in alarm, but was too late as Roderick crashed into him, bulling him into the pigsty, the two men slipping and sliding in the mud and muck. With another yell Roderick slit the man’s throat, dropping his body to the floor.

Working as fast as he could, Roderick pulled out an old wooden bowl from a pouch on his bandoleer, the intricate carvings on it faded with stains and age. Roughly he collected some of the blood from the dead soldier, then more reverently knelt to collect some from his dead liege and friend, before setting it on the ground before him. He drew his knife along his arm, dripping the blood into the chalice as he began chanting, throwing ingredients in from his bandoleer. There was no rational thought, no time for build-up and magical ritual, just dark, bloody magic forced into being by gut level instinct and a burning rage.

Blood of friend, blood of foe
Blood of mine, shed in woe
Brimstone ground, black frog’s toe

Bring mine enemies down low,
May they reap what they have sown
For our blood spilled, blood of their own!

His voice rose as he finished the chant, a strident call for blood and vengeance. From behind him he heard a soldier raise the alarm and the tromp of many boots heading for the pigsty. Knowing he had but moments, Roderick ran to the back wall where the pigsty butted up against the castle, using the bloody mixture in the bowl to paint his dark sigil on the wall, finishing with a scream of rage and a bloody handprint smeared across it, a dark curse on all who had a hand in the day’s events.

He felt the rush of magical energy leave his body as the soldiers came crashing into the pigsty, swearing and shouting. Turning on one foot he flung the remainder of the mixture at the eyes of the first rank, the concoction of blood, sulfur and poisonous frog burning their eyes as they started screaming as they recoiled, slamming into their comrades behind them.

Taking advantage of the momentary confusion Roderick darted left, heaving himself up and over the remains of the wall torn by the King’s entrance from above. The soldiers outside raised the alarm but he bolted through a door into the castle and took off into the twisting corridors, heading low as he could to try and get to another entrance to the secret tunnels. It was time to leave the city.

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

OK, so first post is up.
I know people may have problems with it, so if there are any issues, please let me know and I will try to fix them ASAP.
But really, is Roderick the kind of person to not take immediate decisive action?

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

@Hank: I swear the similarities weren't intentional, it didn't occur to me until just then. But it does highlight the whole equal-but-opposite factor doesn't it? Though to be honest Nykerius probably has an edge on Roderick when it comes to pure magical skill, whereas Roderick is more physically inclined.

I can see the two of them sitting down over a meal and talking shop; comparing their different schools of magic and spellcrafting. Their worldviews and personalities are completely different, but I think'd they'd have a good working relationship going, even if they do butt heads.

Such Haukes, Such Hounds

@Acrolith: I agree, they are quite similar with a lot in common. I can see them being good friends with a keen understanding of what makes the other tick. If it's OK with you, I can also see Roderick tagging along occasionally on some of her hunting expeditions in order to help out and search for rare ingredients and spell components. After all. he does have a lot of experience in the wilds and forests. Sort of a "If you fall behind, you get left behind" deal. Thoughts?

@Nemaisare: I think Roderick would get along fine with Sir, as mutual members of the King's pack. There'd be a bit of back-and-forth push and pull between them, and maybe even a little play fighting, but Roderick's a confident man who's sure of his abilities and position.