Above all the Chosen are a roleplaying group, and this forum is the place to do just that. All posts are expected to be in character except when specifically noted otherwise. A few rules to keep it fun for everyone are posted within, please read them before posting. Otherwise we encourage everyone to participate. Please keep the out-of character discussions to the Out Of Character forum.
{{I am so [i:19i7jw1d]very [/i:19i7jw1d]sorry for the late reply. My computer wasn't exactly working properly last week.}}
Dannil sighed, staring into the mug he held before him. He had heard many tales about Eilistraee - or the Dark Maiden, as she was called. He recalled somewhat a book he had picked up from the mage's tower a week ago. The cover had promised rich secrets about life underground, and the Drow definitely seemed a rather prominent subject in the book, but that book was lost now. Not only to him, but anyone.
His fingers curled tightly around the handle of the mug as he glanced up at Zarae, "I have not had much experience in the way of fighting anything, as you must know," his cheeks coloured slightly at the remembrance of his poor effort just a few hours ago. "But I, too, will do all I can to help." he bit his lip, "Although I do not know how I may be able to help you ... I do wish to try."
He did not elaborate; he did not feel the need to. In truth, he was worried. Zarae's predicament came as a relief to him in a certain way. The hope that they would meet someone able enough to remove him from the cursed life he had been living for less than a week - although it certainly felt like years - burned strong within him, and he did not wish to endanger that by telling Zarae and Lance that he was a mage no longer able to access magic. At least this way, he'd come off as an aspiring amateur - if they found out that there was little chance at hi improving his swordplay beyond a few thrusts, would they take him?
He doubted it, and therefore kept silent. Taking an unnecessarily large gulp of his drink, he smiled reassuringly, though it was more for his benefit than for Lance or Zarae.
((yay ur back...lol...i get the computer thing! mines sooo old and somedays, i think its gunna learn to fly...))
Zarae thought for a second.
"logic says that i need to do something bout those three or two. plus, i dont think Lady Eilistraee would want me to endanger these folks, despite their 'generous' hospitality," she joked. "i would like to get my dagger back; i keep having to replace it." her hand at the empty slot that held the dagger.
"but i dont think i could lead both you into such a dangerous position, but i would love the allies for this adventure. things were a bit slow at the glade, not that i didnt enjoy the peace."
the guards switch people out when the captain entered the tavern with a few 'nobles'. many of the travelers were coming down stairs for breakfast. commotion and the crowd grew around the guarded table. he finally spoke up, "finish your meal drow and we are escorting you to the town priest ((the guy who watched the sunrise early on)). i want today's festival to go without anymore trouble your being here is already caused. your company is to come..." he paused, seeing lance for the first time.
"what your business here and why does a paladin consult with a black elf? i want no trouble in my town."
the captain was a bit taken back by his appearance and presence.
outside, booths were being set up, peddlers and traders preparing for business. today was the last day for the harvest festival. it would comprise mostly of selling and buying of goods and feasting that night, including the award ceremony. many travelers were preparing to head back home after shopping but the town would stay busy till tomorrow morning.
((I can't see anything as to joining guidelines in the intro, does this mean that this is an open RP? If I'm intruding, just say so and I'll delete this post and leave you in peace))
Ra'Sona, until very recently the most conspicuous visitor to the ramshackle collection of houses about the temple, was a creature very much out of his element. Ra'Sona was a creature not common to these parts, yet instantly recognised for what he was; centaurs were always easily identified, much like the Drow that he'd heard had appeared only recently. And rust monsters too, not that any here would likely have seen one, but the insectoid shape, paddle-like tail and distinctive colour was something that all learned quickly, for the fear of one day encountering one and not knowing in time what it was. He carried simple weapons, a long war bow of composite woods and a sword of no great workmanship. His armour was an ugly-looking set of leathers, not badly worked but the armourer that had made it clearly did not fully understand his physiology and had only spent his effort in ensuring that it could be used effectively. In fact, the only thing of value he carried was the innocuous-looking quiver with the pattern of waves embossed upon it, an investigation would show it to be magical, although this was again a simple matter of functionality. Ra'Sona was a sailor, among other things, and ships did not like to waste space for supplying him with arrows; the quiver did this for him, the arrows it magically produced were unremarkable but for their endless quantity.
A dark brown coat covered his lower body, matching his hair which much was wild and unkempt, much to his great ire for being unable to secure an acceptable bathing location in this place. He did not get the respect here that he would have enjoyed elsewhere, but he was nonetheless here, and having heard tell of the dusk-skinned elves' arrival was determined to introduce himself and demand to keep their company since he required conflict, and if there was any certainty of that in this temple holding he would without doubt find it while travelling with them. The travelling was a simple deduction on his part: they had surely not come here to make a home for themselves, he could not even imagine that being so.
He allowed himself to be distracted by the rapidly-appearing market stalls as he went to the ale-house where he had heard the strangers had remained, trading his strength to one whose partner had not appeared to aid him with the stall's restocking for a bag of dried fruit. He did not like to spend coin if he could help it, his self-sufficiency was a matter of some pride to him and so once her had swiftly shifted the goods to the stall he simply left with his meal. This done he browsed the growing market and investigated what appeared to be a naval blade of some quality and sold at a low price, but holding its' blade to the light he saw the telltale hairline that showed that the blade had been shattered and repaired, it was worthless for use in battle. He informed the merchant of this and threatened to prove it by breaking the blade in two over his arm when the man protested, thus he was given a copper coin to be on his way in silence. A dirty trick, but it was not his business to bother with the deceit of market sellers past that which they attempted to use upon him. Too much trouble, and as an outsider he would suffer the most for it. Little else of interest was yet on display, and he hurried along to his destination in time to see the guards already hassling his future companions. As he approached in full view of those outside, he watched the guards to see if one would announce his arrival to whoever was inside.
Ra'Sona was not trusted here, having made his allegiance to an evil deity quite clear when he arrived and was questioned; the merchant he'd been escorting back to his childhood home to open shop during the festival had never asked Ra'Sona's patron and was shocked to hear this, but had had enough sense to pay him anyway. Sadly there had been no trouble during the journey, but this time he would surely find foemen to slay. Drow always came with trouble at their heels, it was said, and he saw no reason to disagree. He would greet them and make his case, and pursue them whether they wished his company or not. In truth, he was curious as to how well they could evade him if they wished to, he had heard stories of how that could control shadows and summon the night ahead of time, and all sorts of yarns that filled the copious free time aboard ships and became wilder and more unlikely with each telling. More than a mere pinch of salt was required, he knew, but he had nonetheless divined that each time the basis of the tale was that they hid easily, and well.
[Another entry to this RP, will depart if requested or intruding]
Out on one of the trails leading to the village, a figure appeared off in the distance mounted on horseback. The figure appeared to wearing a large straw sombrero hat and dusty golden plate armour.
The warhorse plodded along sedately and as the horseman drew closer, people could hear him singing. He was playing a small lute reasonably well. Occassionally he'd stop singing to take a lengthy swig from a wineskin that hung next to the saddlebags, bedroll and other items of equipment that were stacked on the rather burderned looking warhorse.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after yet another long draught. His handsome face frowned with drunken befuddlment and disapointment once he realised the wineskin was now empty. Shrugging with a sigh of resignation, he tossed the empty wineskin over his shoulder. Grabbing his lute, he struck up a new tune on his battered old lute, his melodious voice ringing out:
[color=blue:3bvyayap]
[i:3bvyayap]Along the trail you'll find me lopin'
from where the spaces are wide open,
Out of the land of the old deserts of Netheree
Going where the scenery's attractive,
And the sea air is so re- active,
Oh, the Sword Coast is where I wanna be.
Mid the sagebush and the ficus,
I've watch the Mages practice
throwin' fireballs through the clean morning breeze.
I'll have on my old straw sombrero,
And of course I'll be wearing a pair ‘o
good ol' Fire protection ring’ees.
I’ll leave the city's rush,
Leave the fancy and the plush,
Leave the snow and leave the slush
And all the maddening crowds.
I will seek the forests hush,
Where the scenery is lush,
Oh how I long to see those pure
White clouds.
Oh, the Sword Coast is where I wanna be.[/i:3bvyayap][/color:3bvyayap]
A few of the villages turned and gawped with amazement at this bizzare figure as he rambled into the village. They could clearly see he was wearing a symbol of a gauntled hand on the breatplate of his very dusty plate armour. They could also see that he hadn't appeared to have shaved for a few days. The reddish blonde stubble was showing signs of turning into a beard if not removed in a few more days.
He gave the bemused onlookers a bleery smile and a half hearted wave as the horse pulled up to a water trough and, ignoring the rider, began to drink.
The rider blinked a few times as he looked about the ramshackle village.
"[color=blue:3bvyayap]Where the heck am I now[/color:3bvyayap]?" he mumbled aloud as he tried to focus his bloodshot sea green eyes.
Unable to recognise the place he sought to ask for directions of the quizzical onlookers. Throwing his right leg over the saddle horn, he began to dismount but a loose strap from the leggings of his plate armour caught on the saddle horn entangling him. this resulted in a very clumsy, graceless dismount as he crashed off the horse, to land with a loud clatter and a groan on the dirt of the ground. His left foot was still caught in the stirrup.
A peel of raucous drunken laughter rang out from the supine figure as his Sombrero, caught by a small breeze, rolled away down the dusty street.
In War: Resolution. In Defeat: Defiance. In Victory: Magnanimity. In Peace: Goodwill.
At Ra'Sona's approach, one of the three guards posted to stand ready outside took the initiative and hurried inside to tell the captain that the bitch queen's envoy was about to intrude. This was a very accurate statement at the time it was uttered, but no sooner had Ra'Sona come within clear view of those inside then something caught his attention elsewhere.
Ra'Sona heard the drunken man before he saw him, but with a careful gaze down the single main street of the village he picked him out with little difficulty. He half-expected the buffoon to have been sat backwards on his horse, and snored with disdain as the drunkard lost his hat and gleefully gave chase to it. That was when he noted the icon on the breastplate; a gauntlet. That would probably make this laughable inebriate a gods-follower, if not a dedicated member of a church. Gauntlet, where had he seen one of those before. . . well, he settled on either justice of tyranny and it was trouble either way; Ra'Sona rarely saw any practical difference between the two at any point during their active demonstration. Ra'Sona decided to leave this man be, he didn't suit the look for either of those and if he was something else it was out of his personal knowledge and thus left him at a disadvantage.
Turning away, Ra'Sona stooped low to enter the ale-house and stopped by the table where three others were apparently being detained. He'd only heard tell of two, it astounded him still how inlanders got everything so wrong so very often, it really wasn't all that difficult to count to three. The dark-skinned elves were led by the females, so the ever-more-unreal stories told, women with unnatural appetites who subjected the males in their dominion to acts of unspeakable perversion. This was irrelevant of course except that it gave him a good idea on which of them was in charge, the only female among them, and so this is whom he addressed to introduce himself.
"My name is Ra'Sona, I will be travelling with you from now on. This is not a request, but nonetheless I would like your consent since we will be in each other's company for a while, possibly some considerable time. If you wish to know my motives and expectations, or my skills, you may ask." His hand, wrapped in leather with a layer of cotton fabric covering his two bow-drawing fingers, was offered to the table in general. His eyes however remained on Zarae, and he ignored the guard captan until she and the others responded.
((im hoping lance & arya will post so i can respond.))
so not to waste space:
the time is almost 0700 surface time (or however calculated?) since it was dawn when arriving and close to an hr passing...
birds are signing, the air is warming up from the chill autumn night. people are waking and beginning to enjoy the last day of the harvest festival.
{{I was waiting for Lance to post, but I guess I'll post now.}}
IC:
Dannil quickly brought his mug up to his mouth to cover the fact that it did not seem to close, wincing as the mug collided with his chin and brought most of the ale splashing out at his face. Coughing and sputtering, he wiped his face on his cloak and stood, bowing to Ra'Sona and, murmuring that he would go and scout the village for supplies or something that would indicate anything unfriendly near them, walked past the guards and out of the inn, forcing himself not to exit at a run. Nearly tripping over a man - a priest of some sort - with a brown cloak, he managed to get past without any problem, his heritage proving a bonus for him for once.
He did not find what he did rude, as he figured Ra'Sona was probably more intent on Zarae than anyone else in the room. He also did not want to make more of a fool of himself. His awe at seeing a drow had intensified nearly a thousand times since then as Lance and Ra'Sona had introduced themselves. Although he had heard of them, he had never seen a centaur in his life. In truth, the only race he had actually met before yesterday was human, despite rumours of a Drow village in the forest near his own village.
He felt like a child meeting adults other than his parents for the first time and being unsure of how to act around them, and it annoyed him. He had, after all, dreamed of adventures with exotic races, had he not? Although, he felt surprised that he was even meeting them in the first place.
He shook his head and ran his hand over his face, attempting to remove the liquid as it slowly began to dry. Looking for supplies seemed like a good idea, anyhow. The small store of merchandise he had happened to acquire certainly would help pay for most things. He glanced around, noticing the lack of shouting directed at Zarae that had definitely been there before he had left. His gaze was drawn to a rather strange figure lying on the ground and laughing. Noticing a mark on his breastplate, he moved closer to see it clearly, ending up a foot away from the man. It was clear he was drunk - at least, it [i:s9huwskr]seemed[/i:s9huwskr] clear. And the symbol was for Torm, unless he was mistaken about that as well. Realizing how paranoid he sounded, he chuckled softly and stretched out a hand to the man, "Do you need help?"
Lance turned to the captain.
"Of course, captain, there wil be no trouble. As for my business I am a vassal of Bahamut, the platinum dragon, and another matter brought me to this neighborhood. I deemed this matter interesting enough to investigate, and so I did. I have some prior experience with drow so I saught to find out what the situation was and what I could do to help"
the guard eyed Lance suspiciously just as Dannil rushed out to get supplies (her sharp hearing picking up his mumbling) and a centaur(?) joined the group. the guards let Dannil go for some reason.
'what a mess i can cause'
Zarae started to respond to Ra'Sona when the seething guard interrupted them all, "THAT"S IT! outside, all you. we'll see what the priest has to say."
the guard started to grab Zarae but the look in her eye as her eyes flared a dark crimson when they advanced on her backed them off. worse than most anything for her was to be captured or jailed; and if they insisted on locking her up, she would just vanish. everyone was capable of taking care of themself.
with a bit of an edge, she responded, "i've done no harm to anyone here. but you will not lay your hands on me as some prisoner. i will go in peace to your priest. "
the captain led them out of the tavern, past the groups of people. Zarae had pulled her cowl low over her face and wrapped her piwafwi tight around her lean body, but the merchants and buyers still stared. As they walked outside, Zarae saw Dannil helping what looked like a knight or paladin. the symbol on his armor was unknown to her. religious studies had been her worst subject.
the town priest was standing among the crowd close to the temple, the center building of the town. it was a unremarkable but a sturdy building built of stone. on the small window was the symbol of their deity...
Last edited by Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar on Sat Jan 23, 2010 10:36 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Dusts himself off after the visitor nearly tripped him and follows after him to join the crowd gathered about fallen fighter. As the Drow are lead to the temple he eyes the guard.
"This is harvest festival, all are welcome. Unless you bring a charge against these people you will stop bothering them. Watch them yes, that is permitted and required. Seeking to destroy is what is not aceptible or either guests or members of this community."
He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked up at Dannil and the small crowd gathered about him.
"Hmm? Am I in need of help?" he asked as he appeared to think deeply about the question, then shook his head with a goofy drunken smile indicating he wasn't in any need of aid.
Pausing for a moment, a curious thoughtful expression crossed his handsome face, which then resulted with him letting out a thunderous reverberating rolling belch.
"By Torms shiney nuts! You could pick the bones outta that one!" he said with a satisfied grin. He returned his bleery attention to Dannil. "Absolutely! All fine Now" he said with a relieved smile. He scanned the faces looking down on him with a carefree cheeky grin.
"Good citizens of...whatizname...REJOICE! For today is the anniversary of the TRUE RESURECTION of the TRUE GOD," he bellowed as he rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying once up like a tree in a storm.
"I, Talwyn Aureliano, Knight Captain and Golden Lion of the Torm, bring you the good news and the vitals for merry making so as to celebrate Torm's triumph over death itself!" he proclaimed with a shout of joy. The villagers received this news with a cheer as news of Torms victory had spread far across the lands and his clergy, paladins and followers were always a welcome sign to those who were in need or suffering.
The dusty paladin lurched over to where his horse was standing quietly. The horse turned and regarded him with a wearied look as the inebriated knight rummaged around in the saddle bags. With a loud, "AHA!" he started to produce bottle after bottle of wine and ale from a average sized borwn leather bag and began handing them out to the curious and now grateful onlookers who were happy to receive these gifts. A few of the more adventerous souls, mostly young males, quickly popped open the corks and fastenings and began drinking. A few women scowled and rolled their eyes at the menfolk who were guzzling the free ale and wine.
He hiccuped and grinned as the bemused villagers gleefully watched him with amused fascination, wondering what next this strange paladin might do next. He dug back into the leather bag once more and pulled out another 6 bottles.
He made his way back over to where Dannil and the guards were standing,the fine looking bottles clenched in his hands. He started to make a flourish and a bow to Dannil but stumbled yet managed to regain his balance and somehow didn't fall.
"Forgive dear lady for I am in my cups this day," he apologised as he held out the wine bottles to the guards and Dannil. "Today is a special day in which the resurection of Torm is to be revelled and celebrated and as you can see....I had an early start for such is my devotion to my lord,' he added piously while swaying albeit unsteadily on his feet.
In War: Resolution. In Defeat: Defiance. In Victory: Magnanimity. In Peace: Goodwill.
"No promises, as I said before. Even if my word was enough, you'd just watch me anyway." Ra'Sona was by now used to the guards looking at him like he was about to start something, which was just as well because he often had considered it just to find some kind of motion forwards with his quest. Still, there were a lot of them and he really didn't want to make a reputation of a slayer of innocents until he was at least a fair way in and could afford to slacken off a bit. He was glad to be ordered to leave the inn with its' too-low ceiling that forced him to stoop and knocked over a table on his way out, accidentally-on-purpose. Stupid clumsy centaur, what a laugh he is. Oh well, no ale for you, inlanders.
Somewhere outside the drunkard was shouting again and passing around the booze, yelling about Torm. "Interesting, singing the praises of Torm with his gullet full of beer. How ironic if here were to choke on it; I wonder if he knows who takes precedence in claiming the souls of those who are drowned?" A slight smile caught his face, and he shrugged. He didn't have time to wait for it to happen, but oh if he could only make the claim for her himself. No, that would have to be a pleasure he would forego chasing, he wanted his four hooves back on the rolling deck of a ship sooner rather than later and that would only come once he was finished with his business inland.
((Anyone care to hazard a guess at why he's staying inland?))
My computer wasn't exactly working properly last week.}}
<--- is NOT a request.
.))
