Lacks

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Still here.

Where No Man Treads | An Apocalyptic Dark Fantasy Western [ Accepting ]

It had taken Ryn little more than an hour to reach the outskirts of the human town now that he was on horseback. He rode down the main street keeping his head down and trying to ignore the stares and whispers of the townsfolk as he rode by. He rode straight the town’s livery stable and dismounted Rolando’s horse. An old Dwarf waddled out to meet him smiling and croaking a friendly hello until he got a good look at Ryn then his smile faded.

“What do you want elf?” any semblance of friendliness gone from the old dwarf’s tone.

“I would like to give you this horse. He is of no use to me and he tells me he is a loyal companion for any good master.” Ryn offered back attempting to be civil. The dwarf did not have to be told twice that he was getting a free horse and accepted. He allowed Ryn to fill his water skin from his well and filled Ryn’s ration bag with a few handfuls of oats and cracked corn.

Ryn then left the town of humans, as passed the last house in town he heard the murmuring of men. Cocksure humans were discussing whether they should try to capture the clip ear that just entered town, they were sure that the next time a slave trader or bounty hunter rode through town they could get a reward. Ryn headed toward the area the job advertisement had said was the meeting point well outside town. He needed to wait two days and this town was not safe for him, or rather he was not safe for this town.

He sat up camp in a small dry wash about a mile from the meeting point, then pulled out his flute and began to play. As the notes carried on the wind he thought of the last time he entered the helscape. Anaquandai had ordered him to do so and he had spent nearly two weeks roaming the wastes going wherever Anaquandai commanded and fighting creatures so terrible and powerful that he had barely survived. It was out there in the helscape in a long forgotten cave he had found the flute he played now. Anaquandai had told him it was an ancient elf flute but that did not mean much to him, just another relic of a time long forgotten.

On the morning the job posting Ryn had taken from Rolando’s dead body stated was the start of the expedition Ryn left the wash and headed to the described meeting point. He arrived to find a handsome old ancient, a young beautiful dwarf, a human, and two filthy mages. The human strode forward a somewhat confused look on his face. “Hello sir. I’m Thomas Essex and who might you be?”

Anaquandai spoke to Ryn “State the truth.”

Ryn looked Thomas Essex straight in the eyes. “I am Ryn the Clip Ear McCray. I have come here today to join your expedition into the helscape. I came across the job posting on the body of a mage that I killed in a fair fight outside of town and figured you wouldn’t mind having another experienced killer by your side.” He said this as he lifted the folded job posting into the air.

“Well this world is a harsh place. I appreciate your honesty and I won’t ask any questions, but if you want to start any trouble of any kind during our expedition I want you know that the other men traveling with us are killers just like you. Do you understand me?” Essex said slowing in a deep serious voice.

“I understand. I am here to work and nothing more.” Ryn replied.

“Well alright then we have ourselves an elf warrior. We just need ourselves a Halfling and a talking dog and we’d have ourselves a mighty grand party.” Essex joked as he shook Ryn’s hand.

Ryn introduced himself to the ancient and the dwarf shaking their hands and exchanging warm greetings. He then turned to the mages and gave them a slow acknowledging nod.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Yaroslav sat in the dark dirty alley his back against the cold wet wall with his feet outstretched before him. He stared forward watching the large orange and white stripped rats scurry between the forgotten rotting barrels and piles of moldering debris. He had spent the last four hours trying to force himself to move but had thus far been unsuccessful. Every time he attempted to stand his limbs seemed to turn to lead and he would fall back down into the damp filth.

He had arrived in Riverhope five days prior. Before this he had been preforming enforcer work for an upstart elf Lord by the name of Galvish Bramblethorn in a small muddy town a three day walk to the North. His duties to the Lord had been varied, one day he would be leading a team of mercenaries against one of Galvish’s many enemies the next he would be extorting gold or food from some backwater eleven village that was unfortunate enough to be under Galvish’s control. Despite the unpleasantness of the work Galvish had been Yaroslav’s kind of leader; a man of action who almost preferred when things got messy and did not set limits on how much or in what ways Yaroslav had used magic. Yaroslav had briefly been content there, then the messenger came.

A short confident human had ridden into town on horseback with a letter he said was for Yaroslav’s eyes only. It only took seeing from whom the letter had come from for Yaroslav to know that he needed to comply. After a brief confrontation Galvish had released Yaroslav from his contract and the mage had begun his journey to Riverhope.

He had heard the stories of Riverhope’s beauty and of the happiness of its people, and the moment he entered the city Yaroslav had known the stories to be true. This was not his place. His place was one of blood, mud, and death, this city was a place of love, art, and life. As soon as he entered the city and realized that he did not belong he had found this alley between a tannery and a brickworks. He had been here amongst the dirt and decay for the last two days unable to will himself to go forth into this wondrous place.

Yaroslav was about to attempt to stand once more when he felt something crawl up onto his lap. He did not have to look down to know that this creature was the small young black cat that had been his only companion the last two days. It was an obvious stray, hunger and disease apparent in its features and demeanor but after a time it had become friendly and loving. Yaroslav enjoyed its company and would feed it little bits of dried elk jerky from his pack and would stroke it under its chin as it slept on his lap. As Yaroslav started to pet the cat now he began to entertain the thought of bringing the little creature with him on his travels, he had seen many soldiers keep a sturdy leather pack to carry small pets along during his time in the service and he thought that his new friend deserved a better life than living on the streets. Then as his hand gently passed over the length of the cat’s body Yaroslav snapped out of his daydream and felt an all too familiar wetness.

He looked down to see his feline friend’s body covered in blood. A gaping wound ran the length of the cat’s back down to the bloody stump that had once been its back right leg. Yaroslav did not know how the cat had been injured so terribly but he did know just by a brief glance that the wound was fatal. The cat looked up at him and mewed weakly. Yaroslav looked down at his hand now covered in the animal’s blood and he knew what must be done. He began to let his magic flow.

At first the blood on his hand seemed to begin to steam then boil as it evaporated into a thin red mist. The magic flowed through his body as he looked down at the animal he had hoped to be his travel companion and he watched as its blood began to pour thick and red from its wounds. The cat laid its head down on Yaroslav’s lap and closed its eyes while its blood spilled down onto Yaroslav’s lap and soaked into the fabric of his robe. Then the flow of magic stopped. This was how his spell Blood Siphon worked a steady painless flow of blood out of a wound and when the target’s heart stopped beating the flow of magic stopped.

Yaroslav slowly and painfully stood cradling the limp dead body of his friend in his arms. He carried the poor creature to a small patch of bushes next to a tree on the sunny side of the main road outside of the alley. He used his hands to dig a shallow grave and buried the first creature that might have loved him in a long time.

Once the grave was finished Yaroslav turned and walked toward the Hearth and Flagon. It was time for this mysterious meeting with royalty and he was cover head to toe with filth and blood. He actually smirked at this as he thought “At least everyone there will know exactly what kind of man I am.”

He entered the tavern ten minutes later. He saw that many other individuals had beaten him there and they were mingling. He heard tones of familiarity in some of the conversations and the enthusiasm of introductions in others. He paid no mind to the people or their conversations as he walked directly to the first available chair sat down and closed his eyes in thought of what might be to come.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I added Yaroslav's basic spell list to his Character Sheet.

Where No Man Treads | An Apocalyptic Dark Fantasy Western [ Accepting ]

@Blu I'm going to get a post in filling in those two days and getting to the start point this evening.

@Polybius if you get a post in before me feel free to make an interaction between Ryn and Grimjaw about what happened with Rolando.

Who is Sam?

The chubby old man standing behind Sam in line audibly groans and says "Come on some of us have places to me."

One of the girls smiles and points to the two cups of frothy coffee drinks sitting on the table. The other turns to Sam and says "I have a coffee but I could go for something sweet." She winks as she talks.

The barista leans over the counter "Ummmm.... just a coffee or do you want anything else. Also Master Romancer you'll need to pay."

Who is Sam?

@Alder Yeah I've been craving a one or two line kind of thing lately. Large posts are great too though.

Who is Sam?

This was not the answer the barista expected but he chuckles and says "Sorry we're fresh out. Can I get you some coffee or tea?"

Some of the customers behind Sam seem to be impatient and Sam can overhear two girls sitting at a table to the left laughing hard.

Where No Man Treads | An Apocalyptic Dark Fantasy Western [ Accepting ]

@Mercenary Lord I also like inventing NPCs sadly my first NPC didn't survive my post.

Where No Man Treads | An Apocalyptic Dark Fantasy Western [ Accepting ]

The mage sat on his horse a quarter of a mile in front of Ryn both six shooter raised as he yelled to the Night Elf “What do you want? Why the hell have you been following me?”

Ryn did not respond he simply stood staring back at the man, even if he wanted to answer the mage he did not know the answers to his questions. As he pondered why he was here following this man toward the Hellscape Anaquandai spoke to him “The time for following is over, now is time for killing.”

At these words Ryn began to sprint forward. The mage did not hesitate as three steaming blue rings appeared in front of the barrels of both guns and he began firing them in rapid succession. As each bullet fired passed through the rings they began to glow and steam as blocks of magical ice formed around them. Anaquandai once again spoke to Ryn “Step Left, 1 second Slide Right, 2 seconds Roll Forward, Stand, and then Swing.”

Ryn did as Anaquandai commanded. The magical ice bullets coming within centimeters of striking him, he could feel the burn of their chill as they passed, but each of the movements that Anaquandai dictated kept Ryn from harm. After closing the gap between himself and the mage Ryn rolled forward, stood, and swung Anaquandai.

The familiar feeling of the ax breaking bone and rending flesh ran through his body as the mage made a low grunt before splitting clean in two at the waist. The two halves of the mage slide off the horse and landed on the ground with a wet thud. Anaquandai spoke to Ryn “Another beast is dead.”

After catching his breath Ryn began rummaging through the dead man’s belongings. Mostly ammo, some of the poison humans consider medicine, human currency, and a small package of papers.

The first few papers were wanted posters for various outlaws, then there were a pile of business cards with “Rolando McCoy, Mage, Bounty Hunter, Runaway Slave Hunter, and Mercenary for Hire.” Printing across the top and an address in some human city across the bottom. The last was a job posting for a job in a town the Ryn knew was just a few miles ahead. A survey crew needs an escort into the Hellscape.

Ryn was about to toss the papers to the ground when Anaquandai spoke “Go to this disgusting human town and meet the contact. Lie if you must, get on the crew, and don’t try to kill the mages.”

Ryn frowned at the thought of doing a human’s bidding and he sneered at the thought of working with mage’s but Anaquandai’s advice was always sound so he mounted the dead mages horse and rode towards town. He would be there within the hour.