Omni5876

Jewel of the Skies

Hey friend, sorry for the sudden notice but due to events IRL, I will have to retire from RP for a season. Nothing life threatening so please don't worry. I really do apologize. Take care and the best of luck to you.

Jewel of the Skies

Hey friend, sorry for the sudden notice but due to events IRL, I will have to retire from RP for a season. Nothing life threatening so please don't worry. I really do apologize. Take care and the best of luck to you.

Rise of the Shield Hero - From Another World

Hey guys, sorry for the sudden notice but due to events IRL, I will have to retire from RP for a season. Nothing life threatening so please don't worry. I really do apologize. Take care and the best of luck to all.

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers: Rebirth

Arn Thurson

Name: Arn Thurson of the Hammerstone Clan
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Age: 84 in human years a ripe 19 in dwarven
Gender: Male

Appearance

Such a pretty Face

Arn in full Battle Armor

Everyday Gambeson

Formal Doublet

Hair: Dark brown with sprinkles of red. He wears his hair in a half ponytail and it extends just past his shoulders. His beard is only a palm past his chin and sports a single braid.
Eyes: Hazel often piercing as he analyses everything. Except when he is performing his bedside functions of a healer.
Height: about 5 feet. this means he is taller than the average dwarf.
Weight: A nice round 215 lbs but not one oz of that is fat. He is very strong and muscular but not cut like humans.
Voice: a nice baritone and he does enjoy singing the ballads and shanties of his homeland.

Arn tends to wear the everyday gambeson which hides a mail shirt underneath. he always carries himself smartly and is rigidly. He is quiet but will speak out if anything needs to be said. Often he will voice his opinion in regards to tactics and such.

Class: Cleric

Personality: Arn is serious due to his military academy training. He often will quote his drill sergeant when he wants to make a point. He is very loyal to his kin and if he forms ties with others, he values them as family. He is often gruff as any dwarf but unlike most dwarves, he is not a hot head. This does not mean he is a push over and will not back down from a fight.

Strengths:[/hider

Languages: Common and Dwarvish
Darkvision
poison resistance
Proficient with Battle Axe, Hand Axe, Warhammer, Thrown Hammer
Proficient with Mason Tools Stone cutting
Dwarven history and architecture
All Armors Shields
Simple and Martial Weapons
Proficient with Vehicles (land)

Spells: TBD

Weaknesses[/hider

(What are you less than good at)
A bit prejudice towards Orcs, goblins, Kobolds, Drow and other such creatures.
Little respect for anyone who has not proven themselves in the battle field.
Very awkward around females
Stubborn
Is blunt with no filter.

Biography:

Background

Arn is the second son of Thur Hammerstone. He is from a small clan that followed Bruenor Battlehammer in the Battle of Keeper’s Dale against a force of evil drow, orcs, goblins, and Kobolds. Their bravery and skill with the Warhammer earned them renown and an assured place of honor amongst the ranks of the Dwarven military. It was to this legacy that the young dwarf was born into.

MILITARY SERVICE:
From a young age, Arn began his studies in regards to military history and training with shield, spear and Warhammer. Military service was required of all young dwarves regardless of chosen profession to instill obedience and sound tactics should the Iron Keep ever come under attack as it had in its past. Usually, this service consisted of little more than community service with some being able to actually serve on security duty around the settlement of Ebonstein. Only a select few actually got selected as scouts and entered a military academy. One of the classes enabled them to venture out on patrol duty to clear the surrounding areas around Ebonstein of stray bands of goblins and other creatures. Arn easily gained entrance into this select group due to his natural martial skill and sound mind. From a young age he had listened to the stories and glories of past clan members at the knee of his father and heard of the exploits of his older brother in the Underdark regiment.

It was during one of these patrols that Arn faced the true essence of war and battle, survival. His small band of 6 cadets and 1 elder Sergeant patrolled the desolate places on the slopes of the mountains on the outskirts of Ebonstein. It was meant to be a routine patrol with no foreseeable signs of danger.

They had camped at the foot of the mountain and set up watches. Arn had woken up his relief, a nobleman’s son who had been added to the group more out of political connections than actual combat prowess. The sleepy eyed lad grudgingly took his place on the ledge that overlooked the camp and that provided the best surveying position. Arn had a bad gut feeling but he decided to keep his business himself and headed off to bed.
Chaotic noises woke the young dwarf from his slumber. He poked his head out of his tent, almost losing it to a falling crude ax being swung by a snarling Orc. What followed next was a blur of chaos and adrenalin. Amidst grunts, clangs, and shrieks, Arn found himself facing down two Orcs. The lumbering brutes held their weapons ready and closed in for the kill. The battered and bloodied recruit looked about him, his comrades were either dead or dying. The Orcs had lost six of their own and the remaining two sported wounds themselves. The three of them knew that the victor would have to pay a dear price. With a lunge, Arn went on the offensive trying to catch the two orcs off balance. The deadly dance of battle progressed to the musical clang of weapons and grunts. In stroke of more luck than skill, Arn managed to get under the swing of one of the Orcs and brought the butt of his Warhammer up, effectively crushing the attackers wind pipe. The move however caused him to lose his footing and fall on his back. The remaining Orc did not lose his chance and flung himself onto the young dwarf, bone knife ready to plunge itself deep in the recruit’s throat. The battle and his own wounds had worn the young dwarf to the point that only sheer will was keeping the point of the blade at bay. The snarling Orc used all his body weight and the blade slowly descended on its killing path. Suddenly, warm blood splashed onto Arn’s face and the Orc went limp, a spear head sticking out of its mouth. With a gurgle of surprise the Orc died. Arn looked up to watch his Drill Sergeant falling to the ground. He had lost a leg and had pulled the very spear that had impaled him to use against the Orc . The young recruit made his way to the elder’s side.
The veteran laid there and grunted to his pupil “Don’t worry lad, I won’t tell anyone you needed help against two little Orcs. Sorry it took me so long to come to you rescue but I think I have a good excuse” said the elder slowly tapping his bloody stump. “Well, I guess after all the excitement a good night’s rest is in order. Night night…do..nt..let the …bed.bu…”. His arm that was tapping on the young recruit’s shoulder went limp and the veteran soldier exhaled his last. The relieving patrol found Arn unconscious on the floor next to his Sergeant, trails of bitter tears cutting a path through the blood and grime on his face.

THE BRANDING
His mind took longer to heal than his body. The blow he had received to his beliefs had been shattering. He had trained from a young age, came from a long line of warriors with distinguished legacy even his own older brother was sung on the ale houses. What good was all this if he could not protect and save. The fire in his eyes was gone, days, and weeks passed and the young dwarf had lost his purpose. That is when he met Hardal, a Cleric. He visited with the young dwarf, having seen this type of sickness before. Slowly Arn opened up, the calm and almost fatherly demeanor of the Cleric allowing for deep conversations and guidance. The Cleric knew first-hand about loss. He had lost his father, brothers, and even cousins to battle. “Warriors do not taint the deeds of those lost in battle with regret; instead, the aim is to honor them by surviving and protecting others. You were chosen to live on, do not live your life in self-pity. Let the fire of battle fuel you instead of letting it consume you.”
A renewed sense of purpose dawned in Arn. He inquired as to how to become a Cleric. Hardal led him to the inner sanctum of the small altar to Stollara. A single warhammer was suspended over flames by magic. “When you are pure of purpose and you accept the nature of war and battle. When you take up arms in honor and respect. When you have searched inside your soul and find that flame burning within. Then you may come to this altar and hold the sword. If you are not called by Stollara to be her Cleric the sword will be cold to your hand. If she chooses you….you will know” said the Cleric with a smirk.
It took months of study, self-reflection and hours spent staring into the crackling fire surrounding the suspended warhammer. During one of those times when he would stare in a trance at the weapon, Arn could hear a voice in his being
“why?”
Why what? Why did he want to become a Cleric? The question annoyed him. Wasn’t it obvious? To protect, to heal, to bring some sort of balance to the chaos of war…
“why?”
Because people die in war, because sometimes those who live did not deserve it and those who died should have lived….
“why?”
At this point, rage welled up inside Arn and he yelled at the flames. “Because I should have died that day!!” He fell to his knees defeated, his head hanging and broken sobs escaped his lips. Two strong hands gently held his shoulders. “War is a part of life. Different creatures struggle in different ways. Our job is to guide, comfort and protect those in our care. We cannot prevent war, but we can join in the fray and hopefully that tips the scales. You are alive for a reason. Are you ready to join the fight again? Are you worthy to be the light in the shield and the hammer?”

The young dwarf slowly stood up. He was ready to join the fray. He was ready to take up the shield and the hammer. He was ready to protect. But mainly, he was ready to battle. He made his way towards the altar and the hanging warhammer. His hand reached towards the handle and his strong calloused fingers closed around it. A sudden searing pain surged through his body. He wanted to cry out but his mouth would not utter the sound. He felt as if his soul itself was ablaze. At the point when he felt he would pass out, a warmth spread throughout his body. A certain calm and new found awareness and in the midst of the pain there was clarity. Hardal tapped the new Cleric on the shoulder and Arn released his grip on the sword. He held the branded hand on both of his and spoke knowingly. “Some warriors bear their scars on their body, others on their soul. Be the balm to both.” A dim glow emanated from the elder Cleric and the pain was gone. In its stead, a warhammer had been branded on the young dwarf left palm. He had been chosen to walk the path.

THE TEMPERING
After his initiation into the order, Arn was sent out to the world. This was called the Tempering. Just as a sword is plunged into the fire and the impurities hammered away, so must the Cleric. Refined by the fires of war and the blows of life, a Cleric will reach their ultimate calling. It was in this manner that he found himself at the steps of XXX. The young dwarf wondered what challenges awaited him in these halls.

Rise of the Shield Hero - From Another World

Fer took a deep breath as he listened to what sounded very much like admonition. He patiently waited for Lev to finish and then just nodded at the Spear Hero not wanting to get into a debate about the fact that Rin was the one who had judged them first. Despite any challenges in her past life or even current questing, nothing gave her the right to come barging in and start using Cole as a punching bag.
Still, he could agree with the Spear that a united front would be much more successful against the waves than broken bands of Heroes. If it meant extinction or working with that hyped up bitch, the Shield Hero was able to swallow any resentment if it meant that their victory would not only mean survival for this world, but that he could be returned to his.

At Lev’s mention of being mindful of what he said Fer merely shrugged. “I stand by what I said. And I don’t mind people thinking me as one who just follows the Sword around.” He turned to Cole as he said this. “I would gladly follow Cole around and protect him.” He kept in pace with Lev as they walked. Like a true charismatic person, the blonde Sword Hero was amiable towards the wolf girl.

The smile disappeared at Edusa’s comment. It was a gentle sort of back hand implying that Rivia had been in the wrong to follow him and spend time with him. He narrowed his eyes at the girl. Of course a Royal would think that the other person is at fault and overlook their own complicity. Still, he was glad that Rivia could at the very least not have to worry about animosity on that flank.

Fer tried to ignore the playful banter between the royal and Cole. After all, it was in the Sword’s nature to be friendly. He would not begrudge him that. Nor would he begrudge him the fact that he had chosen to stay with the new pair instead of seeking him out to train. The other hero did not have any contract or any other such reason to be bound to Fer. Still, there was a slight burning sensation in the Shield’s chest.

The Shield Hero looked towards Lev at the question. “I don’t really have any questions. I am sure you are quite capable with that spear. I am just glad you are willing to work together. As far as I am concerned, we can head out any time. However, I will not begrudge you any information you wish to share. Especially if it will somehow help us during the upcoming battel against the waves.”

Avalia

Time: 11 a.m.

Location: Beach in Riverport

Interactions: @potter Rue, @Helo Bowyn

Mentions:, @potter Saoirse @Tae Raven

Equipment: Axes

Amas: 899

Arn had still been massaging the lovely winter lady when she began to stir. One of his big calloused hands went to her forehead. The back of his hand pressed against the soft skin. At first he was concerned because she was cool almost cold to the touch. Then he remembered that for one of her species, that was probably normal. A thankful sigh escaped his lips as he brushed back Rue’s hair the more she came around. Finding a dish cloth from the counter, he had begun to dab at the fairy’s forehead and face.

“It appears you fainted due to heat stroke, Rue. Please drink this.” The dwarf said in a calm bedside manner and handed her a drink. “Please drink it slowly, I am not sure how much liquids you lost but we don’t want to overburden your stomach.” He gave her a smile, glad she was ok.

His arm crossed his line of sight and he managed to see his hairy appendage. A sudden realization dawned on him…he had no shirt on. What would Rue think waking up and seeing him leaning over her with no shirt on? A red flush painted his face and he stood up not knowing what to do. Thankfully, the sudden appearance of the wolf, Moony, monopolized the winter fairy lass attention. He moved away as Bowyn approached.

“Good work. Thank you.”

The sheer effort in that statement would have allowed Bowyn to move mountains or shift the very core of Avalia. The compliment had painted an expression on the winter lad’s face that was akin to extreme pain. Arns brown eyes held widened at the world shattering realization that Bowyn had actually paid him a compliment. The dwarf blinked a few times before returning the nod of understanding. It would not do to push his luck in building upon that statement to pursue a deeper bond with the lad.

Instead he instead quickly told the fairy. “Keep her calm, her heart rate is still elevated.” He walked off to find an orange, or pickle or something salty to replenish the sodium the winter lady probably had lost. He also tried looking around for something that could pass for a covering but short of wrapping the table cloths around him like some sort of checkered and colorful cloak, there was nothing he could do.

Resigned to his unceremonious appearance, he came back with a pretzel lightly dusted with salt. He noticed that Bowyn had gotten another drink for Rue. He silently commended the lad for his concern but as a medic he had to voice his warning as he offered her the pretzel. “Miss Rue, please don’t drink that cold water too fast. It would not do to change your temperature dramatically.” Then remembering these were fairies who probably did not have the same biological processes as warmer blooded beings added. “That is…unless cold is actually beneficial to you.”

The young soldier noticed the winds starting to die down and walked over to the windows. There was no danger of flying debris anymore but the sand that had been picked up still lingered in the air. It appeared that the red headed lass was holding the white haired one. Turning to Bowyn and Rue he said in the most innocent and confused voice they had probably heard. “I feel I missed something important.”

Avalia

Time: 11 a.m.

Location: Beach in Riverport

Interactions: @potter Rue, @Helo Bowyn, @Tae Eris

Mentions:, @princess Annya @potter Saoirse @kazemitsu Kharne,

Equipment: Axes

Amas: 899

In plain view of every eye of Riverport, a human, the only being able to harness the powers of the elemental forces of Avalia, hung amidst a raging vortex of gale force winds. Some stared transfixed at something many of them had not seen in their mortal lives. Perhaps only a few of the long lived elves had even witnessed such power. Some ran away in fear, others, such as the big lizard Kharne and the princess of the light elves Annya, actually ran towards the chaos.

Arn’s eyes were only fixed in Rue. Her porcelain skin beaded with sweat and a white tinge that was not her usual snow pure tone. He knelt next to the fairy lass. His knees first touching the melting snow, something that perplexed him for a second before he realized or inferred that Bowyn, another winter fairy, probably possessed the ability to generate such a substance, even in this tropical climate. The snow was not deep enough and soon his knees felt the familiar sandy floor.

The furious winds around them still did not drown out Bowy’s animosity at saying his name. The medic turned to the winter lad, who was desperately trying to keep up a frosty wall that kept on being assailed by the dangerous winds, bits and pieces crumbling off. The dwarf store a glance at the floating human. Was that one of the girls who had been in the beach with the princess? The white haired one? Remembering the greeting she had given him the time he had run into the princess and the Red headed fire sprite the night before, perhaps it made sense that the girls inner turmoil would manifest itself.

Even despite the scene before them of a power that had not been seen in Avalia for thousands of years and only been read in books found in dusty tomes, Arn was more surprised at Bowyn’s declaration to help Rue. The young soldier’s surprised look solidified into one that showed determination. He nodded to Bowyn that he understood the task.

When the winter lad turned his back to Arn it was the single most sign of trust that had ever been placed upon him. Even those he had saved in the battlefield had not trusted him with their lives. They had been grateful yes but none had ever put their lives in his hands as Bowyn was trusting Rue’s into his. The dwarf took a deep breath of determination.

His fingers dung into the sand under Rue’s body. She was light, as light as the unique snowflakes found in her homeland. Even with strong legs to propel him forward, the sand made his retreat a bit precarious. He had to hug the maiden against his chest. Despite the snow that Bowyn had produced, Arn could feel Rue’s skin was warm. His quick mind discerned that a winter fairy such as her might not have acclimatizes enough to the tropical climate. “Heat Stroke” he huffed as he moved away from the winds and the shrapnel flying around.

It was only then that he noticed the other elf lady with red hair and green dress. Arn remembered her being with Bowyn and Kaleb last night. She started talking to Bowyn about taking care of Rue. The Winter lad stubborn as always moved away from the elf lady. The young soldier had not time to watch them quarrel as he walked away.

A medic’s first job was to evacuate the wounded from the X. He spotted a nearby building. It had been a place for Slime Day participants to get refreshments. He was making progress towards it when he heard Eris call out “Your turn.” He looked back in time to see a ring rushing towards him. In a instant, his next step landed on hard wooden floors rather than shifty sand. It took him a second to figure out what was happening. The ring disappeared and he was inside the Inn where all of them had breakfast earlier that day.

He noticed Bowyn, a few feet away. The medic shook his head. He would never understand magic. His people had a healthy dose of distrust in it and after experiencing first the whirlwind and now the portaling, he could not blame them. Still, rue was his first priority. Spotting the bar, he moved towards it. A few people crouched behind it too as a few of the windows that looked out to the beach had been shattered by the strong winds. “Excuse me” He told them. Nobody questioned what he was doing or why he had an unconscious lady in his arms.

The soldier moved to settle Rue behind the counter. As gentle as a dream he set her down, taking care to not fold a wing under her. Then he located some cold drinks and placed them on either side of Rue’s neck, where her arteries were. He also placed some under her armpits. Looking around, he found some towels and placed one under Rue’s head and a few more to elevate the legs. This done, he chanced look over the edge of the counter. Immediately he had to duck back again as a flying piece of something shot into the room crashing behind them.
Taking Rue’s hand into his he began to massage her palm with thumb and fore fingers trying to facilitate blood flow. Hopefully the cold packs he had placed would soon begin to cool her off. “Come on Rue” He whispered to her, encouragingly. The soldier risked another glance over the counter at the scene before them. He looked around the counter to Bowy. “Don’t do anything rash. Rue needs you alive.” Though he knew that the best bet of survival was to somehow bring the white haired girl under control.

Bowyn was not somebody to take things laying down or forced to do anything he did not want to do. Being forced into the Inn by the elven lady was not going to sit well with him. “Do what you must, just please be careful” He remembered Eris apologizing for the probability of Bowyn being pissed off. “Oh that lady has no idea…” Suddenly he had a realization. “Where the hell is the wolf?” Arn was sure that Rue would be deathly worried about the canine companion of hers. With a raging storm outside and demons running amok the dwarf hoped the wolf would be ok. "Well, shit..." was the only thing he could say looking down at the poor winter lass.

Rise of the Shield Hero - From Another World

Fer had never been to a theatrical play. Once, a travelling circus had come to town and the mannerisms and overly flamboyant way the Spear hero was talking reminded him of the Circus Master who had exaggerated the actual abilities and show that the people were to experience. The young hero had to admit though that the show as appealing to the current audience. A look around showed him that the town’s people were gleamy eyed.

The Shield Hero clasped the Spear Hero’s hand firmly. Despite the extravagant nature of the man’s speech, what he was saying was truth. So Fer had no reason to show any type of resentment towards the man. Actually, the young hero would rather a snowperson than a rude jerk like Ren Matsunaga.

Fer’s face sobered a little as Lev leaned in. So this person was not as foolish as he appeared. In fact, the Spear showed he was smarter than he appeared. To be able to discern that even Heroes such as they were still mistrusted or at the least kept tabs on. He remembered the shadowy messengers that had delivered the quest to hunt down the Bandit Queen.

He followed the lead and walked next to the new hero. This new Edusa lady seemed to at least understand that they should be doing more than just lavish introductions. Fer shot her a glance. Why was she so willing to be following Cole? Surely, it had to be more than a national pride. With royals, everything was politics.

Hearing, Lev’s proclamation the Shield hero almost rolled his eyes. “Friends huh.” At the least they had to work together. Though, friendship seemed something too far off. “We can certainly at least be civil. After all, I assume we heroes are not from this world.”

The young voice of the wolf girl soon reached his ears. A smile appeared on Fer’s face as he turned to look at her. “Speaking of friends and allies. Here comes Rivia” He told the group. As she offered him the sweets he smile and took one. “Thank you Rivia, I have had dango once or twice.” He took what was offered and put one in his mouth. The sweet dougy morsel making him smile again. “It appears you have found the hidden treasures of living in a city.” He took another dango off the skewer.

“We are only missing Auriel….oh and Rin Matsunaga” The Shield Hero said, a tone of distaste in his voice. “I must say, meeting the Spear hero was much more pleasant than when the Bow Hero appeared so already Lev, you are in high standing in my book.” Leaning a little closer he added. “Now what is the plan? I am sure you want to talk to us about something”

Rise of the Shield Hero - From Another World

I shall also try to post this weekend

Avalia

Time: 11 a.m.

Location: River Port Beach-Slime Day-Bath House

Interactions: @kazemitsu Kharne, @potter Rue, @Helo Bowyn

Mentions:, @princess Annya @FunnyGuy Kaleb @potter Saoirse [@thekingofchaos] Ismael

Equipment: Axes

Amas: 899

The humid heat of the bath was loosening muscles on Arn that the soldier did not know existed. He did, being a medic, of course, but he did not know they had been neglected on his body. Years spent in armor and with a travel pack strapped to your back tended to make you forget that muscles also needed relaxing. Despite these hardships, dwarves' were not all spartan living. The armor was actually crafted with comfort in mind. It was made of the lightest materials that offered the best protection. Royals and nobles enjoyed the protection of Mithril. Lesser people like himself was still afforded material that some would still adequate.

His introduction had earned him a name from the demi human as Ismael. The male had seemed to have an issue with Kaleb. Had the two also gotten into the sort of misunderstanding that Arn and the curly haired elf had? The big lizard known as Kharne seemed to find his medic profession useful and this encouraged the soldier that his place was not simply secured due to words on a letter. The young dward had worried that he would just be the token dwarf. However, he hoped that his skills were actually of use.

While in the tub, he suddenly found himself flanked by Kaleb and to his surprise, the red headed fiery elf that had introduced her knee to the street vendor’s family jewels. She had yelled earlier that the group talked too much and so the medic was surprised that she wanted to share the tub with them. Then again, he could not fault her for wanting to enjoy the relaxing warmth. There was something odd he could not quite place his finger on. Most elves behaved haughty and detached. Being grumpy and loud tended to be a dwarvish trait….or someone like Bowyn. He dared not look in her direction though, the red in his cheeks more than just from the hot water.

The young girl was covered enough to be sure, but the soldier had never had to sit so close to somebody like her. Dwarven women could even be called good looking but none came close to elves who were known for their ethereal beauty. Rue had been the first fairy he had seen and that race also seemed to generate artistic specimens. Despite his height, he sank deeper into the tub, even ignoring his beard that dipped into the water. He chanced a glance up at her and noticed that the lady seemed to be irritated. Soon he realized the reason. The curly haired elf seemed to have taken the red haired lass words as offense.

In truth, Arn could not follow. Entertainment was not something that dwarves concentrated too much on. Artistic release was their way to release stress. Dwarven artisans were truly inspired and the works they produced were hard to imagine came from the hearts and hands of a race that seems to hate everyone. Even the medic spent his days reading medical journals and other subjects. His quest for being the best prepared medic had landed his eyes on tomes ancient and almost forgotten. Then, there was always the taverns, where copious amounts of liquor were sure to flow. Thus, this talk of main character and such was lost on the dwarf who merely looked from one speaker to the next. Kaleb was using words he did not recognize.

Why was being a main character so important to them? Should he interject his own opinion? Whatever the case, it seemed like the curly headed elf meant disrespect in his words. The tone in which he said certain things seemed like a barbed arrow. Arn was no knight in shiny armor but he could at least ask Kaleb to show more property towards a lady. Then again, would in doing so, offend Saoirse? After all, the girl had shown she could take care of herself. The poor medic did not know what to do.

Thankfully, the dragon born spoke up to keep the peace. Chastising them all as if they were children. Though compared to the lizard’s size and probable life experiences, they were. Arn had seen much fighting in his life but it basically was part of his culture. A part that the medic did not want to normalize. He understood where the warning was coming from and looking at the three around him in the tub, felt a slight twinge of sadness. Would any of them pay the final price in this upcoming war?

The mysterious look that passed between Kaleb and Kharne made Arn wonder. Why were they trying to keep an elf hidden? It was true that royals or those of high standing would be likely targets but as far as he knew, the curly haired elf had not implied any sort of nobility standing. But certainly Kaleb’s way of speaking to people spoke of a certain privilege. Like the red headed girl, this elf also seemed to be out of place. Even spoiled royals did not act this way. It was almost as if the young lad believed himself better than anybody else. His musings were interrupted by the almost growling voice of the big mercenary.

Thanks to his quick disclosure, the young dwarf now knew that the giant lizard was a well versed veteran of the battle field. Mercenaries seldom lived long. The fact that Kharne was able to survive two score years meant that the mercenary was skilled in survival. During the Slime Day events, Arn was able to appreciate how the big lizard’s body moved effortlessly and efficiently. The dragon born was literally a killing machine. He was sure that Princess Annya or whoever had hired the mercenary, was quite aware of the asset such a being brought to the fighting power of the party he was in.

Suddenly, his own experiences came into play. At first, Arn had not paid much attention to the sounds of the transmission as he thought it might be something relating to the Slime Day festivities. Probably, somebody announcing this or the other but certain key words caught his ear. Humans? Demons? The dwarf sat up from his position trying to listen.

None of that mattered when the screams began. Having cared for the wounded and maimed for two decades, the medic did not need his experience to let him know when a person was in pain. Excruciating pain at that. Such pain is laced with a sort of manic desperation when all reason leaves to be replaced by the basic need to survive. Every instinct in his body urged him to act. His body filled with adrenaline as his stocky body jumped up and out of the tub with a speed not proportional to his body. His hearing sharpened almost feeling the pain the other person was feeling. Perhaps it was an instinct that all people who have experienced a battlefield had as Kharne immediately rush out of their tent.

Other screams of onlookers soon began to form a sickening cacophony of terror. Arn reached the tent flap, having grabbed only his pants and his axes. As he rushed through the threshold he was greeted by a gust of wind that almost knocked him on his ass. Sand and debris began to swirl around as the screams continued. Blinking and covering his eyes he soon noted the beginnings of a tornado and something in the middle of it. Was that… Was that a person?. “By Novldir’s Hammer”. His brown eyes went wide.

Where they being under attack? But that did not make sense. Elemental magic was something only….only humans could do. Realization hit him as hard as the beach furniture was hitting the walls of the nearest buildings as the tornado continued to form. Having come just behind Kharne he noticed that he was shouting to the red haired member of their group. Wait…did that mean that there was humans in their party?

His eyes began to widen as he remembered Kharne’s scolding of Kaleb. The secrecy in which they all behaved. He looked back towards all three who had shared the tub with him. Where they all human? They did behave strangely and spoke with strange words.

Once more his glance fell on the swirly vortex. The dwarf did notice that it was coming from the direction the princess and other ladies along with Bowyn had been. Suddenly, he noticed Bowyn kneeling down….over Rue? A sudden urgency welled inside Arn. He saw the princess rush over to the tornado yelling something that was being lost in the roar of the increasing wind. His concern for the princess was not as strong as what he felt for the white haired fairy. Why was this? Was it because, even briefly, he had spent more time with the two winter fairies than the princess? Or was it something else?

His body moved on its own as his short legs pushed against the sand and rushed over to Bowyn’s side. “Bowyn….what happened? Please let me take a look.” He offered, concern permeating his voice. He had almost pushed the winter fairy lad out of the way but even in this emergency situation, the medic had the presence of mind to not surprise a person that would lead to being harmed himself.