Fortress Konnacht official RP thread

[samoht]

Fortress Konnacht​

RULES

*First: normal forum rules apply.

*Before you can post, your character must be approved in the lore thread HERE
*Before you post, after your character is approved, make sure you’re familiar with the lore HERE
*Follow rules set down in the lore thread.  New lore can/will be approved, but please run it past us in the lore thread first HERE

**Try to keep all off topic discussion in the lore thread, too, that way this thread is clean and just for the RP.

**I fully expect our characters to be on the winning end of tough engagements, but please don’t suddenly unveil godlike powers.  New powers/abilities/items are allowed but please RP it accordingly and slowly develop the powers over time, or gain items in appropriate encounters.

****Very important, and also common sense, but no taking control of another person's character without first obtaining permission, even for seemingly insignificant actions like blinking or sneezing.

****Please take some time and care to make decent length posts.  Understandably some posts will be shorter than others, and there is no required minimum, but RP is an attempt to develop a well written adventure where all participants give equal input and progression to the story.

*HAVE SOME GOSH DARN FUN.

Without further ado...

It begins....​

Getorix Fal had been traveling for three days.  West, always west, towards the location of Fortress Konnacht.  Or the supposed direction of Fortress Konnacht.  Getorix was not sure where he was really going, and had always thought Konnacht was little more than a tale told to small children to keep them quiet and give them good dreams.  But Fortress Konnacht was real, or real enough for the tribe shamans to send him to find it.  The Felimid tribe was in danger, soon to be attacked and likely annihilated by Diotagnet and his marauding warriors who seemed intent on destroying all those who stood in the way.  And Fortress Konnacht, the place of legend, was the last hope for Getorix and hist tribe.

But Getorix was skeptical.  Many times he had heard of the city where metal flowed like water and life was easy.  Many times he had dreamed of a place where the behemoths came to give of themselves freely and the tents were made of stone and tribes never had to leave in search of food or water.  As he grew older, and became a veteran of the hunt, Getorix began to think that Fortress Konnacht was only a story, but the shamans spoke for the spirits, and the word of the spirits was final, and the shamans had said Getorix must travel was and find the fortress.  He must travel west, through the ancient stone ruins of the tribes that had come long before, where the behemoths fed on the plants that thick in the streets and on the old buildings, through the dense, lonely forests where the old and sick behemoths would go to die, west over the hills that lead to the spine of the world, and beyond that… he knew not, only that Fortress Konnacht was supposed to be there, somewhere.

But he had been traveling for three days, alone, and now he was thirsty.  He stopped at where two of the flat valleys, that seemed to run to and fro through all of the ancient ruins, came together in a large square shaped clearing where water had gathered over the years and plants had grown up around it over time to form a sort of oasis in the middle of the ruins.  Getorix crept to the edge of the water, careful to not only watch the water and the surrounding plants for predators, but to keep his balance on the crumbling grey stone along the edge of the water.  The wind moaned through the ruins, like a voice softly mourning the souls who had once lived there, and Getorix worried about his tribe, if they would be able to stay safely away from Diotagnet’s warriors long enough for Getorix to find some help - any help - even if it wasn’t from the mythical Fortress Konnacht.  The shamans had said they would lead the tribe to the west, hopefully to follow Getorix and buy themselves some time before Diotagnet’s forces inevitably came encountered them, but Getorix wished he was with them instead of on this fool’s errand, even if it was an errand given by the spirits themselves.

The towers, walls and old stone homes of times long past looped over Getorix as he kneeled down to dip his hand into the water, still keeping a wary eye on the shore of the oasis, he wondered how long his journey would take  and how far his path would lead before it lead back to his people.

 

[silencekyo]

She had been walking for many years now, drifting from one place to another with no specific destination in mind. Today, however was different. Stories of the wonderful city had been told a thousand times to her, and probably a thousand times more if they haven't...

She stopped in her tracks for a moment. The cool forest air blew through her hair, as the carpet of leaves rustled, creating a sound familiar to her ears. The girl stretched her hand out to a falling leaf, catching it in midair. Sometimes, she felt like a leaf, flying about, blown by the winds. She let the leaf go and watched it fly for a moment, then fall among other leaves on the ground. And maybe, like the leaf, she could find a place she belonged.
She shook her head, berating herself for thinking such stupid thoughts, reminding herself it was not possible. That she was deemed cursed and a demon by her own tribe, by her own family. The other tribes were blood thirsty and would kill her for the sheer sport of it, judging from the stories the elder warriors tell.

Then again, maybe if she went to the fabled city... . She continued walking, following the sun. Her grandmother had once said, to reach the city, she must follow the sun to where it rests, passing through "forests filled with ghosts" and climbing up to the "mountains where the demons dwell", finally down to the city. Convinced it was not real, yet hoping for it to be real, she could not see a way the city tribes would accept her. A way for the superior peoples of Konnacht to accept her. For she was Naomi, one who had dishonored her family, cursed by the tribes and sentenced to death.

//This alright, samoht?

 

[samoht]

//Yes , altho I would like for the characters to start encountering each other soon (unless you strongly planned on having a loner character) and for OOC discussion to be kept in the info and OOC thread. 

 

[The Dominator]

Axoror wanderd as he had done for the past 12 years to searh and explore. When he approched an old oasis he saw someone kneeling down and drinkin, Axoror quickly lept to the side behind some obscure stone pillar twice as thick as a man. Axoror gazed at the lone figure, pondering about what he should do. He could ofcourse just attack but the man for it was a man Axoror could see that now probably weren't with Diotagnet's scumbags.

A twig cracked behind Axoror and he spun on he's heels axe in hand and stared into the eyes of an Creblar. This particuler Creblar was old and slow it probably had come here to die, but it attacked anyway and forced Axoror out into the open. Even if it was slow and old it was still a formideble foe, Claws as long as knives and strong as three men.

Axoror backed away out into the open completley forgetting about the man...atleast for now. all he had eyes for now whas the creblar.

((will be adding some lore about Creblar in the other thread if it's okay.))

 

[Incaa]

Grim moved swiftly through the undergrowth making surprisingly little noise, the clear forest air filled her lungs as she ran. The sun broke through the treetops and bathed the forest floor in warm light, she could still smell her prey.

Ahead the deer thundered through the trees frantically trying to escape it's dark pursuer, it tore gashes in it's sides as it collided with the trees. Blood littered the trail behind it as Grim approached, 'This has gone too long' she thought as she fit a bone tipped arrow into her longbow mid-step. She aimed at the deer just as it reached a clearing, then suddenly it was gone.. forced to the ground by a mass of feathers and a flash of talons spilling blood on the earth. 'I could've shot you' She thought. 'I have faith in you' Wraith replied smugly as he tore a strip of meat from the kill and swallowed it with a snap of his blood soaked beak.
The metallic smell of blood assaulted Grim's nostrils as she approached even through her clothwrap mask. She felt a surge of hatred rise in her chest, she quickly suppressed it, though the moment's weakness did not go unnoticed by her companion 'Every step you take is a step towards redemption' The Sythian falcon said reassuringly.

She knelt in the clearing beside the fallen deer and set her bow aside before drawing her bone dagger and beginning to skin her portion of the kill.

 

[Kalnia]

K’hel walked at a pleasantly slow pace through the long grasses of the plains, nothing to spoil the illusion of unending, rolling grasslands stretching beyond the horizons in all directions. The sky was as clear as the great oceans that he had once seen, probably around three human lifetimes ago... give or take a few decades. With the dark wooden staff of his spear in his right, the lone man gently raised the edge of his hood up so that his vision was not impaired by its covering folds. The quiet sunshine found its way onto his now uncovered face and illuminated the soft grey and strong bone-lines of his features. Seeing that he had meandered slightly northwards since he had last checked, the Ithari glanced around casually and decided his current place was perfect.

Resting his spear on one shoulder, the tall figure undid the clasp that held his hooded cloak across his neck and threw the garment like a net. The cloak fell flat across the grasses and, with the same simple elegance that he always conducted himself with, the Ithari sat cross-legged on the cloth. Laying his spear near at hand and hidden by the swaying grass, K’hel busied himself, reaching for pouches that hung off of his belt. A comb of wild honey emerged from a leather pouch and two loaves of unleavened flatbread came from a small bag that hung across his back, along with fruit that had fallen from a tree he had passed earlier that day.

Smiling at the memory of bartering with the bees for some of their stock, the Ithari chuckled at the stubbornness that insects always possessed. In the end, he had promised to move the windfall apples from around the base of the tree their hive was in, as they had been attracting hornets and other rivals that would steal from them without any thought of it. As he appreciated the taste of wild honeycomb and the craftsmanship of the honey bees as he had many a time in his long life, K’hel thought it a worthy trade, despite the few stings he had earned disturbing the feeding wasps.

After a quiet, easy meal, the Akir lay back and watched the clouds go by. The wind moved them all so slowly, and he could appreciate how lovely the life of careless, endless meandering was. Although at ease, the Grey One’s hand was still on the handle of the weathered stave of his spear, still hidden partially in the grasses at the edge of the outstretched cloak. His ears were attuned to the world around him, from the windsong that gently pushed and pulled at the grasses to the far-off chatter of birds, of which he occasionally caught a snippet of conversation. He had not lived for as long as he had by being careless, and the black obsidian spearhead was perfectly ready to lunge upwards from its hiding place and spoil the perfect day with the smell of blood on the breeze, should it be needed.

 

[RalliX]

"Gafflwn Dihenydd Or fuddugol yn wiriol sydd, Ni fydd neb yn ein drechu, Falch ydy ni I drochu, Traed o flaen Ir Annwn, mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni." How it sounds sung(Minus the gunshots.)

This is what Hrothmund sings, quietly and solemnly as he travels, searching for a salvation to his clan, and it also dictates to the spirits what his goal is whenever he slays one of their beloved wolves.

"Gafflwn Dihenydd Or fuddugol yn wiriol sydd."
He thrusts downward with his ceremonial flint knife. "We cheat Death from his rightful victory."
The wolf is dead, and Hrothmund becomes as fast, and keen as it was through the strength of it's soul manifesting in him... "We are glad to plunge feet first into Annwn,"
"Your blood is shed for a cause, friend." he said to himself.
"With the knowledge that we will rise."
__________________________________________________

McKeenfere stood short as he was, over the wolf's corpse, hidden in a forest. "Better not let this go to waste..." He began cutting away the fur, and skin. He did not need any, it would merely burden him over his already sufficient fur clothing. Instead he cut open the chest cavity, and called for some of the ravens with the beacon of a food call. Around ten showed up in the tree branches around him quickly. "Reward:Fresh Sustenance after I take mine. Task:Gather kindling & twigs for firemaking. If you don't, I'll burn the rest."
This is what he told them, to which they responded with joy and quickly setting about gathering wood for Hrothmund to burn.
He set head-sized stones around his makeshift fireplace. The birds held up their end of the bargain, and were rewarded with the entrails, head, and rear legs of the wolf, that Hrothmund cut away. They promptly began pulling away at it until only the bone was left. Meanwhile, the halfling got to work spitting a set of ribs on the end of his spear, and then began roasting it.

 

[zollum]

The tents burnt, screams could be heard not so far in the distance. Diotagnets army was not being careful, but they had never been, conscripting new soldiers was never difficult with Goblinoids being so willing to join. They were using the information he had provided, sneaking behind the very hills which were meant to hide them. The shaman turned out to be a psionic though and the battle was taking longer than expected.
"Tejooq!, the town hall needs reinforcements!" called Aquey, Captain of the guard and one of the townsmen who had believed he was just a friendly stranger. He had thought we were friends, but that trust was misplaced. He repeated himself and I turned to look at him, he tried to wave me over but I stood. A Goblin snuck up behind him and drove is blade into his back. The look on his face as he was stabbed made him stop.
"Something wrong Mr. Bonislai?" asked the Orc
"No, it's nothing" I replied, swallowing deeply.

Not sure where that memory had come from I continued climbing, hoping to get a better look from the top of this hill. Despite the large amount of information at my disposal (knowing the fortress is to the 'west') it never hurt to see where he was.

//Is first person OK?, I'll change it if need be.

 

[Incaa]

'We have company' Wraith said suddenly lifting his head from the now near-stripped corpse of the deer.
Grim quickly lifted the cloth back over her mouth and grasped her dagger. Had her nostrils not been filled with the smell of blood she would have known they were there by the stench of them.

"Wuts dis den eh?"
Goblins.

"Ello lovely, nice bird ya got there" A goblin said as he emerged from behind the largest Orc.
Grim nodded but did not stand.
"Wut you hidin' uner all dem clothes eh?" The first Orc said, his stench assaulting Grim's nostrils.
The woman remained silent.
"Sumfin' wrong wiv' 'er" The large Orc stated dimly.

'Shall I?' Wraith enquired.

"Yeeeeah somin' ain't right with this one" Agreed another goblin.

'No, It's my turn' Grim replied.

"Oi! You! You lisnin'?" The first Orc shouted at her.

'But I only got to kill a deer' Wraith replied dejectedly.

"That's it, git 'er boyz!" The large Orc roared.

'You can have one..' Grim said with a smile behind her veil as she stood, and with one fluid movement sliced the oncoming Orc's throat.
Wraith launched himself upon the largest Orc and tore at his neck with beak and talon.
The first goblin launched himself forward at Wraith, stabbing at the falcon with a stone-tipped spear. The fire in her chest burning, grim bore down upon the goblin from behind, she clasped her elven glove around the creature by his slimy chin and thrust her dagger deeply into his jugular, spraying blood everywhere. The large Orc gurgled as he attempted to speak his last words and fell lifeless on the forest floor. Grim looked around, the other goblin had fled.

 

[kosmik]

Rain was dripping down as Elindhir was fleeing through a forest almost as thick as Behemoth's skin, with her trusty raven familiar circling them on a small distance. She was closely tailed by some brutish hunter from one of the forest tribes. The pursuing hunter was hairy as a bear and his whole body was covered with blue tattoos and scars from a hundred or possibly more bloodsheds. The hunter must have also been strong as hell, but his strong bulky body wasn't nearly as agile as the girls that he was hunting. So Elindhir was able to avoid the man with an ease. By each step they closed in on the site that was to be the end of one...

-Day before that-
The hunter had been the prey of Blackwind, just another man to try spend a night with her and to end up in some ditch with his throat sliced open and eyes eaten by ravens. But that changed at the dawn of night when the man revealed that he had something very special. It was a rugged, half burned map that  he claimed, would lead to a city rich with metal and all other valuables. After hearing that Elindhir had decided to grant him life. And instead of luring the poor man into forest and then butchering him there, she drugged him into a deep sleep, took the map and left the camp. On the mourning the hunter was furious and started tracking the gal. He found Elindhir about  15 miles away from the camp speaking with a raven

...they had run for almost a full hour and the rain had stopped. And they had reached their final stop. There was a big bush between two grand oaks Elindhir gracefully jumped over the obstacle... and thus avoided certain death for that bush was actually a trap. In it was a sharpened wooden spear, strong enough to stop any mammal or at this case a raging man. The tattooed hunter ran the spear straight through his lower stomach. Looked at the spear then the girl in front of her, who was now grinning like she was possessed and slowly fell on the ground. "Men, can't you ever be happy with what you have?" Elindhir stood tall over the man lying on the ground "I gave you another chance to live, that's more than anyone has had from me in 16 years". Brutish man begged her for mercy but the girl only chuckled at that, she could clearly see the terror and fear in his eyes. "You had your mercy! But you changed it for a long painful death. Why did you have to come after me, it's not like you didn't have a chance to live happy ever after". He tried to reach out to strangle Elindhir, who was now sitting beside him on a rock. She agilely avoided his grasp and stood up "You are done now, no mather we do?" her teeth flashed as she opened her mouth "I give you decision: will I leave you here to slowly die, to be savaged by wilderness around us? Or shall I grant you a fast death?" The brute cursed Elindhir "Make it a clean warriors death then... you abomination." She giggled a little "That we shall see" see said as she took one skin that had been previously been filled with water. Elindhir pured the water down and set the skin beside the man. She then set her right foot on his chest and slowly pulled the piece of wood out of the hunter's body as the poor man groaned in agony. She looked at the bloody spear and then at the dying man "I can't let you to go to waste" and quickly drove what was left of the spear through the man's neck as his eyes filled with fear. She then collected the blood from the fresh corpse in to the water skin and sealed it tightly. She licked her bloody fingers and fastend her cape around her, as she left the corpse there to be eaten by animals.

 

[silencekyo]

She found an apple tree near the outskirts of the forest. Holding her hands up towards an apple, she imagined hands on the apple, which stopped swaying immediately. Turning her hands, she imagined the hands on the apple turned too. A small snapping sound came, and the apple fell to the ground. She heard a warbling cry as a forest glider dived onto the apple. Surprised, she looked at the glider hissing at her, clutching the apple with its clawed feet. Another glider dove to the ground near the apple, giving a swipe at the apple. Seeing a challenger for his apple, the first glider gave off a series of warbles and shrill screeches to warn off the second. Seeing the second was not about to back off, the first glider got off the apple and hissed maliciously at the second, upon which a third, more enterprising glider, dove at the apple and swiftly made away with it, giving out a gleeful warble. Dismayed by the theft of the prize, the two gliders scampered after the thief, disappearing into the forest. Naomi, having observed the whole thing, decides there must be a lesson in this, got herself another apple and started munching on it.

***

She sat against the apple tree, her hunger sated and feeling a bit sleepy. Her brilliant red eyes closed slowly as she fell into the darkness that was sleep.

***

She woke up with a start. Another loud roar came, reverberating through the cool night's air. Her curiosity piqued at hearing the roar, for she had never heard an animal make that sound before, she crept towards the sound. Hearing the sounds of humans cursing, and yelling, she stopped for a minute, fearing they were hunting her and had brought a fearsome beast along.

Hearing nothing but the sound of battle, shouts and cursing, she crept closer, hiding behind the trees along the way. Creeping to a tree that was nearest to the battle(what else can it be?), and she slowly looked out from behind the tree. About 5 humans were surrounding another green skinned human*. Judging from the normal human's armors and the carvings on the wooden breastplates, these were warriors from another tribe, and would kill her on sight.

But the green one, the green one was different. Standing at 6 feet tall, and having those powerful muscles would instantly make you into the tribe's favorite warrior. However, having green skins and those deformed face with two large tusks, would also lead you to getting exiled and branded as "cursed" immediately. Anyone born different was exiled or killed. She was proof of that..

The green one was wearing nothing but a pair of black stone** bracers, and a leather trousers with wooden plates. He was panting heavily, numerous wounds upon his body, yet his yellow eyes were unflinching, burning with resolve and desire to live. Heaving the big stone hammer that was his weapon, he gave a roar and swung at the nearest human. The human's instinct failed him as he brought up his bone sword to block the mighty blow. The impact broke several of the humans bones, as well as the bone sword. The green one turned around as another human thrust his spear at him, while another tried to lunge at him from behind. The spear pierced the green one's shoulder as he grabbed the human's head, jerked it backwards and used it to block the human lunging at him. The horrified human watched as his black stone axe shattered his friend's head, feeling the soft, warm feel of human tissue on his face, before feeling the blow that crushed his ribs together. The green one pulled the spear out of his shoulder, as the last two human ran away. He gave one last roar, dropped his hammer, and collapsed on the ground.

*She does not know what an orc is, so an orc is just an exceedingly ugly human to her.
**and she does not know what obsidian is. She calls it the black stone.
EDITED:for spellings.

 

[samoht]

Perhaps it was due to loneliness, or the vague idea that the task before him was too great to to accomplish alone, but when Getorix heard the roar from the other side of the oasis, and saw a man backing away from the source of the roar, Getorix momentarily dropped the suspicion he would have normally viewed this scene with, and moved to help.  He removed his javelins from his back and held one in both hands and quickly skirted around the edge of the oasis.  Within seconds the source of the roar moved into the open, and Getorix saw a large, old, and still very dangerous creblar.

It moved with an awkward gait that spoke of age.  Instead of quick, graceful movements of a creblar in its prime, this one lumbered forward, its hands held in front of its body, its claws extended and seeking a target.  Getorix knew that the brown and black hide of the beast would be tough, especially one as aged as this, but he was hoping the man who was currently standing in front of the beast knew at least a little about how to deal with them.  As he approached the other side of the oasis he readied one of this stone tipped javelins and threw it at the creblar.  The javelin flew true and struck the beast with a force that would have lifted a man off of his feet, but the creblar, with the javelin sticking out of its ribs, simply turned its attention to Getorix, and was in a slightly worse disposition than before.  Getorix still had enough room to throw his second javelin before the creblar neared him, and hoped that the stranger would lend some aid to help slay the beast, but he grabbed his behemoth-horn-axe an readied for a melee.

 

[yulgar]

“Finished!” said Talanor, after reading the last word to the last air manipulation scroll. 

Talanor had, for the better part of four years, studied scroll after scroll learning the arts of druidic element manipulation.  Today he had finished the third set of scrolls on air and would be moving on to the final element, fire.  The Elder had thought it best for all would-be druids to study each element in turn, learning of its strengths and weaknesses as well as defensive tactics if one should be attacked with an element.

The Elder’s reasoning behind learning all but the chosen element first was sound, however Talanor was beginning to think he would never learn his fate given talent at all.  Sure, the young Mitar could start a miniscule fire within a pile of dead wood, but what Talanor really wanted to learn was how to create a fireball within the palm of his hand, or to wield his obsidian shard staff in a wreath of flames, if this task were even possible.

But, the Elder was ever reminding Talanor that with druidic magic as in any magic, there are rules that one must adhere to.  For one, fate was already working against Talanor and his natural ability at tree-weaving.  While all Mitar druids could tree-weave to some degree, druids found it much easier.  Druids gifted with the earth and water element, found their tree-weaving ability to come much easier than druids with the air element, and especially druids with the fire element.  The two magics contracted one another practically canceling each other out.

But that never stopped Talanor in his studies.  Having freshly mastered tree-weaving only six years earlier, the next logical step was to take up druid training.  Beginning with herbal recognition and mixing, Talanor was taught each herb in turn and their unique properties alone and when mixed together.  Next came charms and wards, which proved more difficult to the young Mitar, but in time was mastered, as well.  Next was a short lesson on defense against curses.  The Elder thought it wise to never teach any ithari the art of cursing because of the potential damage they could do to not only themselves but the environment.  Finally, Talanor began taking the last few steps of becoming a fully realized Mitar druid beginning studies in elemental manipulation.

The Elder would be delighted to know that his prized student had finally completed the set of air scrolls.  The Elder had been particularly fond of the young Mitar considering his upbringing, having been shunned from his tribe for having a darker skin tone than most other Mitar.  Seeking attention, Talanor took to acts of mischief which ultimately caused him to be hated by most.  Finally having seen enough, the Elder, patient as ever, took it upon himself to train the young Mitar in the ways of tree-weaving. 

Excelling rapidly in the racial ability, the Elder knew eventually, Talanor would be taking up the art of druidism, as he had so many millennia past.  The two grew close as teacher and student, but most importantly as friends.  Once a week the young Mitar would pay the Elder a visit and the two would go over the current events of their tribe hidden in the Vale.  This relationship continued on for some time and what had started out as hate from the tribe now came as disregard.

But now not the time for remembering past times.  The trek to the Elder’s tree hut, on the opposite side of the waterfall and back, would take most of the day and Talanor did not want to be caught out after dark.  Talanor’s wards and charms did little to defend against the shamans and even less against the ever dangerous psionics.

Filling his satchel with particular herbs and the five air scrolls, Talanor slung the leafy bag over his shoulder.  Clasping on his green hooded cloak and grabbing a hold of Orilin, he began making his way to the Vale.

 

[The Dominator]

When the javelin hit the Creblar Axoror quickly glanced away in the direction from wich the javelin had come, it was the man he had observed. Wasting no time when the Creblar turned away it's attention Axoror barreld forword axe in both hands aiming for the creblars back, He swung he's axe in a wide arc and hit the creblar square in the back but even so it still stood and swung an arm at Axoror wich sent him soaring thru the air and landing hard on he's back 15 feet away. Axe still planted in it's back the creblar kept focus on the other man judging him to be the greater threat for now but it was losing blood and would at most last ten more minutes.

When Axoror landed on he's bach he lost breath and felt dizzy he could bearly move for now he swore and cursed to the extent he could wile trying to gather himself.

 

[Kalnia]

Having carefully swept the hooded cloak free of any crumbs his midday meal might have left on it, the Akir Ithari swept the long folds of the garment over his shoulders and did the clasp back to hold it at his neck. Pulling the concealing material of the hood back to cast his raincloud grey skin into a light shadow, K’hel felt his mind come alive as he caught the scent on the breeze.

Blood.

The iron-tinged hint was only the tiniest of scents, but it was clear, and the muscles in the Grey One’s body seemed to awake from the quiet calmness of their everyday movements. K’hel’s features broke into a white-teethed smile, his eyes alight with both a terrible curiosity and will to partake in the shedding. If any had been watching, or indeed been able to see under the folds of his cloak’s hood, they would be able to see the quiet bloodlust of the Akir Ithari awakening in the tall, solitary figure.

Putting his foot under the stave of his obsidian-bladed spear and kicking it into his grasp, the Grey One took off. His strides were long and full of the calm, careless elegance that made his race the most terrible and beautiful of the Ithari.

 

[Incaa]

Grim stepped lightly through the underbrush, Wraith flying far above.
The cloaked woman weaved her way through the trees, the smell of blood still lingered on her senses 'Can you see anything?' She asked her familiar.

Wraith screeched far above, then replied 'I see a commotion to the east, men fighting a Creblar'
'Anything relevant?' Grim said dismissively.
'I would follow you anywhere, but what of your vows Crusader?' Wraith answered.

Grim bit down on her lip, drawing blood. 'You always look out for what's best of me' She responded fondly, and changed course.
She sped through the forest, light dancing through the trees before her eyes as her momentum increased.

The sound of combat echoed ahead. She stopped and crouched as the creature and it's victims came into view, drawing her bow and silently knocking an arrow Grim slowed her breathing and took aim at the creature's leg..

'Sssk'

'Thud'

The beast roared in pain as the arrow pierced it's calf muscle, forcing it to the ground.

Grim sunk back into the trees and the shadows..

 

[silencekyo]

She watched the orc gobble a roasted fish as fast as he could, reaching out to another fish roasting in the small fire she had made. Noticing her looking at him, the orc grabbed a stick with a roasted fish on it and offered it to the girl. Not feeling that hungry and a bit happy that she caught a quite lot of fish, she took a bite out of the fish, leisurely chewing it as the orc gobbled down the rest of the fishes roasting at the fire. Finishing her fish, she grabbed another, and thanked the Merciful Provider for the glowfish, seemingly the most plentiful type of fish she knew about. She looked up towards the night's moon.

***

Naomi sat on a large rock near the river, watching the multitude of glowfish illuminating the river with myriads of beautiful colors. The sight was strangely calming to her. She looked furtively to the left towards the fire she had made. The orc was sleeping peacefully, albeit with a fearsome snore. The orc's huge stone hammer was standing against what seemed to be the collapsed remains of a stone house. Reassured by the sight, she stretched her hand out towards the river. A sphere emerged in her mind as an invisible sphere formed around a glowfish. Focusing hard, she raised her outstretched hands, raising a sphere of water from the river. She brought it closer, finding it easier to focus on the sphere the closer it gets. She observed the fish interestedly, marveling at the way it shimmered and glowed with soft colors. Her thought went back to the orc.

On that day, when she first saw the orc, she was deciding whether to help him or to just leave. The orc was laying on the ground, unconscious. She had painstakingly carried him using her cursed talent to the nearest body of water she knew, and nursed him back to health. Upon waking up two days later, the orc was shocked to see a human tending a fire near him. He groped for something and was looking around frantically when she handed him his hammer, with one hand. The orc was stunned, and simply received the hammer, and put it besides him.

Thinking back, her powers seem to get stronger as the distance grow shorter. Using her hands seemed to enable her to focus her powers better too. "Ah!" Her mind snapped out of its reverie as the sphere of water collapsed and the glowfish flopped out to the river. Her tattered robe was soaked. She stared at herself for a moment, before getting up, and undressing. She walked back to the fire, searched through the pile of wood she was using for the fire, and constructed a rude clothesline as near to the fire as she dared. She hung her robe there to dry by the heat of the fire. She sat down against the wall of the ruined house, and stared at fire, observing the dancing flames.

To cut a long story short, she had tended to the orc for a few days, and left as soon as he seemed to be healthy again. However, after five days of following the sun, the orc had caught up with her. She was confused by his wild babbling and gesturing, before realizing what he was trying to say, his life is hers. Giving out a large laugh, he pointed to himself and said "Grakhum",then pointing at her, saying something unintelligible in another language, repeating it for a few times before she got it. "Naomi" she said, pointing to herself.

***

She woke up to someone shaking her vigorously. Grakhum was looking worriedly towards where the sun rises. A familiar cry came through the air, a creblar's cry she thinks. Noticing she was naked, she got up, yawned and put on her robe sleepily. They resumed walking towards where the sun rests, putting distance between them, the creblar and its victims.

//Anything I need to change, just give me a yell in the OOC thread. Yeah, I know this be a crappy post, but samoht did say he wants the chars to get together as soon as possible.
NOTE:My char is abit further west than you doods fighting the creblar.

 

[Kalnia]

Falling to a kneeling position from his long and calm loping run, K’hel sniffed the air and found that the wind had pushed the tiny thread of scent drifting away from him across the plains. It did not matter, although the Ithari was mildly curious on whereabouts and reasons behind the spilled blood. It had been nearby, for he would not have smelt the iron-tinted scent if it had been too distant. Sighing, the Grey One tilted his head up and scanned the horizon for a sign of disturbance.

Across the illusion of endless grassy plains, there was no sign to show that nature had been disturbed, but a small copse of trees to his right might have hidden something. With his spear-grip light and sure on the weapon’s staff, the elf twirled in through his fingers and over his wrist as he walked casually towards the treeline.

Approaching the edge of the wood, the scent was so painfully clear the Grey One’s heightened senses that it was clear that something had died recently in the shadow of the forest. Moving swiftly and low through the shade of late Spring-time leaves, K’hel’s footfalls were silent and well-placed. The only sounds were the animals and the one time that the Akir Ithari grazed a bush, the small branches and leaves softly whispering as they brushed off his clothes.

And there it was, a human who had bathed the area in his lifeblood before giving up his flesh to the forest. A wild dog, small and lithe, sniffed at the congealed blood and ushered a low-growl at the stranger who knelt looking at the scene. With a calm grin, K’hel carefully pulled a piece of spiced and dried meat from a pouch.

“Here, this will taste better than the flesh of a two-leg, little one, “ The Grey One’s lips moved strangely and softly as the feral  whispers came off his tongue. “What happened here, to leave such a human as your midday meal?”

The dog looked up and looked surprised to be spoken too, tilting its head cautiously before snapping the dried meat swiftly from the stranger’s hand. K’hel read the way the canine’s eyes moved, the attitude of its body language and the hundred other little things that it answered with, before smiling his thanks and standing to leave the dog to her meal. One of the greatest joys in his life was the fluent conversation with the world’s creatures.

Briefly eavesdropping on the chatter of the woodland’s birds confirmed what the dog had said; a female, probably human, had tricked and killed the man as he pursued her. Fair enough, K’hel thought, as he began to walk away. The human would away by now, the blood on her victim had already begun to dry, unless she had stayed nearby. And even if she had, it was probably simply a lass who had avoided a brute’s unwanted attention, nothing of particular interest for a Grey One. With the man dead and the tracks leading to and fro cold, K’hel simply walked deeper into the woodland to find some fruit for an afternoon meal.

 

[kosmik]

Few hours had passed since Elindhir made the kill. She had learned to not feel any remorse the ones she slays. Everyone who walks this land has sinned... has a nasty secret. Everyone deserves death. Elindhir knows her sins are much greater than of many that she has killed and that one day she has to pay a terrible price for her "sport".

The forest was getting thicker as she made her way through. She could still feel smell the blood and sweat and thus decided to find a place to wash herself. She sat down for a moment and changed thought with her raven. The bird took off and soon disappeared in the green of forest. Eldindhir then took of her cloak and leather armor and left them next to a old apple tree. She then climbed the for some apples. They weren't big but filled her nicely.

She took off her clothes and laid them next to her things. And nude as her name day she went for a swim in a small pond with clear water. She swam for a few moments and then cleaned herself of blood, dirt and sweat. Afterwards she felt much better. She sat on old branch of the apple tree while her wet skin tried, waiting for the return of her familiar. But as there was no sign of the bird and she could feel a cold breeze of wind, she decided to get dressed.

After quickly covering herself, she sat down cross-legged next to the tree and meditated and tried to connect with nature and the everything in it. As usually most of the animals except for the birds ignored her. But that didn't get her down for she was used to being ignored and she knew her bowers were becoming stronger.

Soon the raven returned, and Elindhir found out that one Grey One had been to the site of murder and was now moving her way. That though made her uneasy. She knew that she couldn't defeat him on fair one on one fight. Aki Ithhari's fighting skill were legendary among the tribes.

But for now the advantage of suprise was hers. Elindhir quickly climbed the tree, and just like ravens of the forest she hid herself between the branches unseen to the unknowing eye of an wayman. She knew that the Grey Ones have senses as strong  as wild animals and could smell you before even seeing you. But she hoped to be unnoticed. She loaded her blowgun and waited.

 

[yulgar]

An unease came over Talanor as he made his way to the Vale.  Dismissing it as nonsense he hastened his step reminding himself of his errand.  Today, he would begin his studies in fire manipulation.  Smiling as he thought of the new possibilities. time seemed to ebb on very slowly.  Soon, Talanor started to jog, breaking out into a run.  Time was of the essence.

After a short while the huge oak that served as the pillar to the Elder’s home came into view.  At the top the Elder could usually be seen puttering around his humble abode.  On this occasion, it seemed as though the home were empty.  Looking to the waterfall just to the north of the Elder’s home, it did not hold its usual roar that it had in times past.

Sprinting the rest of the way to the oak, Talanor unveiled the steps leading to the top of the oak and quickly ascended, skipping every third step.  Arriving at the top Talanor burst through the door to find the living quarters unoccupied.  A note etched on a leafy piece of parchment was folded having Talanor’s name inscribed at the center.


Dear Talanor,

It is with greatest regret that I will not be able to see you upon completion of your studies with air manipulation, thus finally adorning the helm of fire manipulation.  I have been summoned away from my estate, for reasons of great import, those of which may not be shared in this letter.

The fire scrolls remain where they always have, in the hidden cabinet.  Please empty the contents of the cabinet and guard it carefully.  There is a particular charm wrapped around the fire scrolls that you may wear when practicing your manipulation.  Please read all scrolls first before moving on to actual manipulation. 

Again, please take the entire contents of the cabinet and guard it well.  Psionics are beginning to sprout up with word of Diotagnet on the move, ever searching for his precious metal.  Scouts of both the Lithir and the Akir have come in telling of great war parties heading towards the Vale.

Be careful my student.  I am very proud of your accomplishments thus far.  It has been a privilege watching you learn the fundamentals of a Mitarian druid.  I have no doubt you will be a great druid, indeed.


Fair well.



“He‘s saying goodbye.” said Talanor aloud, worry overtaking his emotions.

His mind began to race as Talanor quickly went to the hidden cabinet and emptied the contents into his leafy satchel.  It would be the first time he had went back into the Mitar village in quite some time.  Talanor feared what people would say of him.  But outweighing all his fears was the concern he had for the Elder.

Exiting the tree-hut, Talanor quickly placed his hand on the nearest section of the tree he could find.  Closing his eyes, Talanor began to concentrate on its life as the water and nutrients traveled up and down the base of the tree, extending to each limb and leaf.  Willing the nutrients and water that would create growth, Talanor created a new sprout at the center of his palm. 

Grabbing a hold of the new sprout he again concentrated on the on the nutrients and energy emanating from the tree and willing the energy forward into the new sprout caused the sprout to grow into a vine.  Strengthening the vine, Talanor continued this act of willing the energy of the tree into the vine, thusly weaving the vine all the way to the ground with him dangling at its end.

It took a half an hour to get to the village and when he did, he knew he was already too late.  Lying in the center of the road was the Elder, several bloody wounds covering his body.  The place had been practically abandon and only a few stragglers were left ravaging the corpses of many Mitar and humans, goblins and orcs, looking for anything they could find of value.

Talanor yelled at the top of his lungs, tears beginning glass over his eyes.  He had been too late to accomplish anything.  Letting his emotions take him, Talanor fell to his knees, weeping for his friend and teacher.  After a while he finally began to regain some of his composure.  He sat back hugging his knees and began to think.

His first priority would be to burry the Elder, which in the way of the Mitar would be to grow a tree letting his body feed the tree.  But then what, he said as he continued to sit, looking at the death that surrounded him.  Remembering an old tale told my the Elder, Talanor muttered the word Konnacht.

Fortress Konnacht was a place of myth and legend, a paradise for the wearied traveler looking to flee the ever encroaching claws of Diotagnet.  Its walls held secure against all enemy attacks and its lands were filled with anything one would need to survive.  Said to hold wood for building, game for hunting, water for drinking and even precious metal to mine, it was no wonder that Konnacht was thought to be a myth.  And to top it off, Konnacht was said to hold the fiercest warriors in all the lands.

Realizing he had nothing left within the world of the Mitar, Talanor decided then to take up the quest for Konnacht.  It would be better than waiting on Diotagnet or one of his many minions to run me through, he reasoned.  With his mind made up, Talanor set to task of burying his teacher, mentor and friend.