Red Wizard

From the Ashes shall be Woken

Last call, people!

From the Ashes shall be Woken

So when are we starting?

@agentmanatee

Tomorrow, most likely.

From the Ashes shall be Woken

@agentmanatee, accepted!

Fantasy's Shattering

Yem looked at the light shining from within the ruins and frowned. He had of course heard about the purple relic as well, and he acknowledged that whatever was in there could be it, but seeking it out now was too risky. He was wounded and had spent his strength fighting the Drider. Using the amulet had saved him, but there were too many unknown factors in using it again while he was in this weakened state. It could also be another trap, or something completely different trying to lure him into its cavern. He would definetly return here later, as he could easily find his way back, but now was not the time. For now he would rest and heal and divine as much as he could about the relic currently in his possession. He turned away from the light and, supported by his spear, began limping away through the night. He reckoned he could retrace his steps to that old tavern at the crossroads by dawn if he kept up the pace.

From the Ashes shall be Woken

@Vagabond, yes we are!

Fantasy's Shattering

Yem had no time to think and reacted on instinct. It was all he could do to sacrifice the spear in order to avoid getting caught in the web of the Drider. The weapon got stuck, glued to the sticky thing, and the beast tore it from his hand by twisting its head sideways. Armed now with only a knife, the situation looked grim. He felt the beckoning of the relic in the fire, and let his eyes get drawn to it. The stories said they were full of power, those relics. Power he could probably use now. He still hadn’t discerned whether the fire was magical or not, but at this point his options were dwindling fast. He would have to risk the fire, flee the scene or fight the Drider practically unarmed, probably resulting in his death. Yem had no wish to die, and fleeing after having come so close left a bitter taste in his mouth. He would brave it, then, and curse or thank himself later. Now there was only the matter of the Drider and how to distract it. He suddenly turned, as if to flee, and when he was sure the creature was lounging after him, Yem twisted back and threw the dagger at it. The Drider was too distracted with charging to evade in time and was struck by the sharp blade, and so Yem seized the opportunity and dashed for the relic. He could hear the creature screeching behind him as he ran, but it wouldn’t be able to catch him before he got there. He realized that he had nothing to grab the amulet with from the fire, but decided to proceed anyway. The flames licked at him as he reached in and snatched it from its place, but the pain was distant, unimportant. The adrenaline was keeping him sharp, and his body was tough when in totem shape. He stared at the relic, unsure what to do with it now that he had it, and watched with mounting terror as the monstrosity came charging at him through the night. Then, just as if he’d known it his entire life, it became apparent. He closed his eyes, and the totem ceased. She opened her eyes and saw the monstrosity before her. It was a simple matter of bending the darkness in front of its eyes in order to escape its charge. The creature stopped and looked about, puzzled, shaking its head and clawing at its face is confusion. She had, meanwhile, produced her bow and was lining up a shot even as the creature was still trying to regain its sight. With a soft twang, the arrow left her bow, and with a quiet thud it embedded itself right between the eyes of the Drider. It gurgled, still more dumbfounded than before, and touched its hand to where the arrow was lodged into its skull. Then it started swaying, mildly first but soon wildly, and finally collapsed in a jumble of chitin and undead flesh. She dismissed the magic with a thought and walked up to the beast. The bowstring hummed once more, another arrow digging into the creatures head, just to make sure it stayed dead this time. The she put her bow away and inspected her surroundings. It was a strange place, this. She recognized it slightly, as if she’d seen it in a dream somewhere, but couldn’t place it. Then she looked at her hands, and her feet, and touched her hand to her face. Now this was interesting. Suddenly, there was a tugging sensation in her stomach, and she felt her conscience rapidly fading. She closed her eyes, believing she was about to faint, and then everything went black. He opened his eyes and took a desperate, ragged breath, like if he’d been drowning. That had been… interesting, to say the least. Unexpected, but interesting. He had seen everything, seen how he had killed the monster with a bow he apparently no longer possessed, seen him inspect himself. He hadn’t heard himself say anything, or think anything, but he knew somehow that another mind had been in his body. He had done all those things, yes, or at least his body had. This truly was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Pain rushed to greet him, and he grunted as his burned hand and cut back made themselves known to him once more. He would need to rest and heal, preferably somewhere safe. He would have to find a tavern, or a farm with rooms to let. Night or no, he could not stay here.

From the Ashes shall be Woken

Bump! We could always use more players! Check out the proper thread

From the Ashes shall be Woken

Even if this doesn't pick up a lot of people we should still start this.

@thegreenleafe

I agree completely. I would like to wait a day more or so to attract more attention, and then start playing.

From the Ashes shall be Woken

@WilsonTurner That was just what I wanted to hear :) You clearly have the right motivation for this character. Accepted!

Fantasy's Shattering

Sitting in a bush, Yem inspected the fire from a distance. It was clear that whoever had been there just a few moments ago had left in a hurry. They could have heard him approach, but it wasn't likely. Most did not detect Yem unless he wanted them to. This left Yem with more questions than answers, and a few possible scenarios. In the best of worlds, the people sitting by the fire had become afraid of Rexicorgs grim reputation and, fueled by the darkness, they had simply left the place. They could also have spotted him, however unlikely, and either run off or prepared a trap. It was also possible, and Yem hoped that it wasn't so, that something else had driven them off. Something that might or might not still be somewhere close by. It was not a safe situation, and Yem was concerned. He had seen the black shape in the fire, of course. Just lying there, unscathed by the flames, shimmering with light from the dancing flames and the watching stars. Yem suspected it was one of the relics. It felt appropriate, somehow. Meant to be, like in a great story. He also suspected that this was some sort of trap. It was too easy and obvious to not be one. Someone was watching the fire, waiting for the ideal moment to strike, or perhaps there was more to the fire than it seemed. Yem was no sorcerer, but he knew plenty of sorcery. And if sorcery could be one thing, it was subtle. The only way to be sure about anything was to deduct the possibilities, one by one. The easiest one to deduct was the presense of others. Yem might have been a mere human, with poor senses of sight, sound and smell, but he had his ways. The transformation was almost instant. Yem breathed in and closed his eyes. When he opened them again and exhaled, the world was a different place. The night was as bright as day. He could hear and place the individual whispers of the leaves in the bush. The scents of the night flowed through his snout leaving trails almost like colors through the air. Every fibre of his body stood in rapt attention, his muscles vibrant with energy. He needed one sniff to confirm his suspicions; there was someone or something nearby. It reeked of corpse, but it was moving, which told its own disturbing tale. Yem was up against an undead of some sort. This always unsettled him. Corpses should remain still, such was the way of nature. He would have to be careful. Gripping his spear in one powerful, fanged hand and his curved blade in the other, he leapt from the bush and charged the being with terrible speed. As the creature came into view, his instinct was to retreat but he forced himself to disciplin. He thrust at the Drider, the dreaded man-spider, with the full force of his charged but was easily turned aside by a flick of a chitin-clad leg. Stumbling past, it was all he could do to throw himself away to evade a stab from one of the creatures other legs. Yem rolled on the ground, quickly regaining balance, and brought his spear up to keep the fiend at bay. He would have to finish this quickly, lest he'd tire from the strain of his totem. Vile creature!, he cursed, Putrid thing! Die again in the name of all that is good and living! Return to the ground as you should have long ago! If the Drider had understood him, it gave no sign. They circled eachother, kept apart only by the length of the spear between them. Then, suddenly, the monster moved with lightning speed and forced the tip of the spear out of the way. As it jumped for Yems flesh, screeching madly, he ducked beneath it and sliced it with the blade while passing. It was not without cost, however, as the creature pricked him in the back just below the shoulderblade. It left a long scratch down Yems back, and he yelped at the pain. The two combatants quickly found their places again, and continued the dance like before. This fight would prove interesting.