Dream Come True

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Ogrim
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Dream Come True

Postby Ogrim » Mon Dec 27, 2010 10:04 am

[[Foreword: Anyone wanting to join is welcome, though if your schedule might impair you from participating regularly, please let me know ahead of time, so I can work some sort of departure into the scenario, and keep the RP rolling steady.]]

'Twas a hot summer night, in the year of 1359 DR, in one of those many small farming communities dotting the great expanse of Toril's surface. A boy, in the midst of puberty, was settling down for a restful sleep, after a hard day's work. Not unlike so many young people at the bottom tiers of society, he was a dreamer, always dreaming of greatness. And in his dreams, always reaching for greatness. Even since he was young, he'd been adept at Lucid Dreaming, and had eventually risen to the skill of a Dream Walker, not merely aware of his dreaming state, but projecting his semi-conscious will into the dreams. In his dreams, he could be compared to a demigod.

This night would prove special though, for his talent has caught the attention of demons, demons that have entered the Dreaming, the Astral Plane, and set ambush for him, to attack and claim his soul, so it might not return to his body, and never wake up. They did not belong there though, and were being hunted too. This is not a tale about the boy though, but of the thing that crept from the shadows, beheld the demonic behemoths, and in a flash of impossible-seeming speed and strength, decimated the attackers, and as a result, too close to this very powerful dreamer, was pulled through into the Prime Material.

Now this little community has put out a call for heroes, for adventurers, some monster, some 'demon' the rumors claim, is killing their livestock at night. No word on what it is, only that it leaves 4 puncture wounds, and all the carcasses are found literally nothing but skin and bones.

[Time frame has been changed, on recommendation of other players, please take note of this.]
Last edited by Ogrim on Fri Dec 31, 2010 9:58 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar
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Postby Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar » Fri Dec 31, 2010 5:46 am

her crimson piwafwi was tight around her lithe frame. red material flooding her and contasting her skin. the cowl was down, so her crimson hair was free about her and framing a sharp ebon face. amber eyes scanned every nook and cranney. ears trained to seek every sound. she even heard ones she'd never imagined. the fast chirping sound at a constant rate, then it stopped. other craoking sounds, more distant. then others simular to the rothe that dotted the Eastmry of Lith MyAthar. she felt a bit nostalgic, but she continued onward, always forward. there was no returning. there was nothing left for her.
she could sense the pressure change, the atmosphere change; the heaviness of earth lessening. she was close, uncomfortably close. and any moment she expected the ceiling to just fall away into emptiness. the slightest bit of light peeked in from further down in the ascending tunnel. that was the exit.
the drowess paused. she could do, she had to. looking back into the comforting darkness that called to her, she bowed her head, pulled her cowl over her face and continued on, hand on the rapier at her side.

((if it aint been guessed, this is her first time on the surface. i figured a cave near the village. if i should need to, i will edit. ))
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Postby Ogrim » Fri Dec 31, 2010 10:29 am

The light beyond the cave that awaited her, far from the stinging brilliance of the sun, Selune's pale glow shown down, dimly lighting the night-time wilderness bordering on the little pioneer town. It is still night, 'The time of the Drow' some would call it, and once adjusted to that lunar glow, who could argue that notion?

Then comes a sound, piercing the night's peace, and among those sounds not unlike rothe, is the sound of one of those similar beasts, uttering a cry of fright, of pain, and of dying, giving away that someone, or more likely something... some predator had attacked. During the moments following, there is briefly a different pressure in the air, the presence of something telepathic, insinuating, into unguarded minds a sense of urgency, hunger, and confusion... most pointedly, the confusion. Then it is gone, replaced by the shouts and calls of angry men, and the clicking of crossbows. Many bolts go errantly wide of their intended target though, and some may fall into the paths of the unwary.

To the keen eyes of one who sees so well in the dark, there comes the briefest glimpse, of some 'thing' fleeing the scene, too fleshy to be a gargoyle, too large to be anything but, though. Yellow eyes and onyx skin, as it passes, angry farmers in pursuit.

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Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar
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Postby Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar » Sat Jan 01, 2011 10:03 am

((i am not playing Zarae in this one, just a heads up should others join.))

the ex-priestess seeing the glow of the soft light stared amazed, mostly at the sudden rush of new smells. it was much better than the wet dampness of rock, smells of bodies, the rothe and the river that ran thru her homecity. this was fresh and inviting, and...words she couldnt describe. she stepped forward into the light, a hand shading amber eyes at first, before they grew accustomed to selune. shiny sapphires dotted the blanket of black as moonlight basked the trees and filtered thru to the green of the summer.
the drow wanderer tossed her cowl back again, closed her eyes taking in everything, spinning a circle and letting the light flood her when a piercing sound stopped her in her tracks. she opened them slowly having to readjust to the brightness. the sound was close, or she guessed. the years of learning to judge on the bouncing of sound on solid walls was one thing. sound here was, different. she felt a presence, and almost could feel its own feelings. other very familar sounds occurred, an unmistakable click of crossbows and shouts of men.
she pulled her hood back on effectively vanishing from sight, and started off the way she reasoned the sound came from. squinting, she spotted something. like things she'd seen dwelling in the darkest of places, that dwelt in the heart of the drow cities.

little did the drowess know of the surface world, and just how much they truly hated her race. else she would have left then. the ex-priestess wasnt truly evil (anymore), but she wasnt good. speak of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

((im assuming that if she was to come and show up, they would assume she caused the trouble.))
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Postby veraka » Sun Jan 02, 2011 9:45 am

Two sets of eyes, one radiant silver, the other blazing blue, scanned the area around them as they both made their way along towards one of the farming communities that dotted the remote region they were in.((kinda hard for me to describe the area, and not my RP, so. . . yeah))

As the two pairs of eyes moved through the night, the blue pair glanced up to the silver shining ones. The blue eyes belonged to a great and majestic winter wolf, Aurora by name. Striding alongside her, the silver orbs of radiance belonged to the armored titan of an aasimar, Veraka Orden.

If the lights of Selune shinned down upon the towering aasimar, any within visual distance would catch sight of shimmering platinum dragon scale armor that encompassed the paladin. A wicked edged bastard sword hung on his back, whilst his heavy shield was latched onto his bracer, for travels sake.

Both he and Aurora, his winter wolf companion and friend, walked along, minding their own business towards each other. Veraka was still wandering why what had happened back at the Vale had happened as it did, despite that fact that had happened a number of years ago.

Veraka looked down at the ground as he walked along; would you give it a rest already, came Aurora's intrusive voice in his head.
I know that you wished her to change her ways, but somethings are for the best; besides, she left on her own accord.

"Perhaps, but I wanted to know the why of it," the aasimar retorted, not giving up his contemplative posture.

Be as you wish, but do realize that we might have company hear soon, the wolf replied.
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Postby Ogrim » Mon Jan 10, 2011 6:37 am

(You would be half-right Zar, as you'll see)

Where there comes angry farmers, and human farmers at that, there usually comes torch-light, and with this kind of menace plaguing all the nearby farms, lots of it, neighbors banded together to drive off the menace killing their livestock. So too, comes with some of them the baying of hounds, as they lead their masters eagerly in the direction of the intruder... and its unfortunate witness.

On they would come, shouting and hollering, and when first sight catches upon the shape of a black-skinned elf, cries come up, "A Drow! Over there!" Another calling to his hounds as they're turned loose, "Go on! Sic 'em!" In seconds she would be beset by a pair of angry, savagely growling large dogs, both of them, their growls meaning to kill. And their charge comes on at full stride, until that critical moment before they should lunge.

As if they had hit a confidence-sapping wall though, they come to a sudden stop, growls fading to whimpers and whines, to tucked tails as they slink about and avoid coming too close to her. The why of it, unclear to all but maybe a druid, whom might 'hear' them complain of how their heads hurt when they think of attacking. This does not slow the approach of angry farmers though, one calling to the priestess... more screaming at her, "What in the Hells did you do to my dogs, you black-skinned Devil?!" And before this one might get an answer, another declares, "I'll bet SHE brought that beast upon us! Some new pet of their dealings with demons, I'd wager. I say we kill her now, and be done with her pet after!" "Nay!" shouts another, eying the Dark Elf hatefully, "We should bait her damned pet, an' take her prisoner!"

In all much arguing ensues over what to do with her, angry red faces, shouting and hollering, each louder or more insistent than the next, but not a one letting her from their sight, and a couple who can't decide which course to favor, whom have the good sense to at least try to hold her fast, and if succeeding that, tie her arms behind her back with either wrist against the opposing elbow, force her to kneel, and then fasten her ankles together, and link the bindings together. Apparently they've had to tie people up before, and gotten better with time.

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Meanwhile, back in the village, the boy whose natural talent with a manner of 'magic' known to few, and trained by fewer still, for its potency seldom if ever yielded any tangible results that any but the possessor could observe, sat awake on his bed, wanting to help somehow, thinking he knows the identity of this menacing monster from the rumors, but knowing he would be made a mockery of, should he mention dreaming of the monster. Either that, or he would be blamed somehow. Hopeless, he stared out his bedroom window, until by the light of the moon he beheld the MOST peculiar sight he had ever seen, as if plucked from the stories of traveling minstrels, a man, if indeed he could call it that, a person he thought for sure, in gleaming armor, and not so far away from his home.

Indeed, he had to pause and rub his eyes, even move around a bit, viewing the spectacle from different angles to be sure it was not a trick of his mind, or the light, but when the shining figure remained, out of his room, and into the night he ran, against the protests and scolding of his mother, he ran, barely lighting a lantern before he's out the door, running out into the fields, too excited to care about the dangers he might be putting himself in. Now what might a paladin, in his shining armor think of that dirty red-haired farm boy running out to meet him, and hollering in gleeful excitement?

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Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar
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Postby Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar » Mon Jan 10, 2011 6:59 am

she wasnt sure how she was spotted so easily, but the group circling her, she drew her rapier and moved into a fighting stance. the ex-priestess might not have her Lloth given spells, but she was no novice fighter. if the second daughter (her older sister) of Matron Shyntyl hadnt already been in the Red Sisters, then she would have been. she turned, not letting her back remain facing anyone person for too long. she scanned the crowd, picking out the weakest and strongest threats. but she still had her innate drow abilities. their tongue, she learned some of it, tho the need for it in the wilds of the Underdark wasnt much use, nor in the city.
falling into a crouch, she dropped a large globe of darkness around herself. how many of the rivvin could fight blind? she, as all of the Kilanatlar's had been trained to fight blind, and her ability to heal with the shadows would also bean advantage (drow wanderer skill).
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Postby veraka » Mon Jan 10, 2011 7:34 am

Veraka continued to stride along, despite the fact that there was now a small boy[/b] running out to meet him.

[i]I didn't expect you to have admirers out here, of all places,
came Aurora's voice inside his head.

The aasimar looked over at the winter wolf and raised a brow.
"At the very least I know that we're near a place to rest, hopefully."

Indeed, the wolf replied, now focusing her gaze on the child that now approached rambunctiously.

"Oye, lad; what be one such as yourself doing out in the night like this?" Veraka asked the young boy approaching him with a near crazy run. Though Veraka didn't know it, he was more than likely going to get a taste of what being a Paladin, and one of Bahamut to boot, meant to some younglings.
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Postby Ogrim » Mon Jan 10, 2011 7:59 am

Brandishing a weapon at farmers, with a look of knowing what one is doing with it, might normally send them packing, but this lot is more an angry mob, than some rabble of angsty neighbors. Besides, there is a Drow in their lands, and by their reasoning, like locusts, where there is one, swarms are sure to soon follow. Some have swords of their own, which are brandished in turn, though in truth haven't much more experience than in killing goblins with them. Others who bothered to grab them have their crossbows which level at the Dark Elf, and others have their torches and/or pitchforks.

The bindings clearly are not put in place, and in short order the torches are made moot, but of those who manage to keep a cool head when the 'blindness' falls upon them, they grab their fellows if they can, and drag them backward, trying to escape the spell's perimeter, hoping with uncertainty, that that's what it is. Unfortunately, not all keep their cool, some charge in with clumsy attacks that might leave a handful of goblin corpses in their wake, but be easily defeated, and if so desired, disarmed without harm, by a skilled swordsman. Then there are a few who stand about, or crumple to the ground crying out such complaints as, "My eyes!" or "The witch has blinded me!"

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Meanwhile, out in a field an excited boy slows to the greeting, in part to catch his breath, and in part so that he doesn't plow face-first into the great armored figure, when enough breath comes to him to form a coherent sentence, he declares, "Yer a knight, aren't ye?! Ya comin' from Waterdeep?! We sent out a messenger a few tendays ago, an' folks around here been thinkin' they'd never send anyone to help us! You are here to help, right?"
He's hardly noticed the Aasimar's companion, and dismissed the wolf for a large white dog, in all his excitement and hope. And how his mind reels to think he could say he was the first to greet their savior on his long road to their little community.

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Postby Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar » Mon Jan 10, 2011 8:30 am

the commotion was just what she hoped to create. some were wise to not tangle with her, others, not so much.
the clumsy strikes come in at her, and she quickly moved, listening to the most minute of things and timing it with accurate precision. she parried another sword, then ducked and swung, striking one in the leg. without hesitating, Swordbow (her rapier) was striking another, and connecting with a club, cutting it nearly all the way thru. she pulled it loose and blocked a high strike, then kicked out at the attackers knee.
"waele iblith" she said softly.
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Postby veraka » Wed Jan 12, 2011 12:04 pm

Veraka for a moment, was a tad bit confused about the boy's rambling, however, he soon made sense of the young lad and his sentences.

"Hey there, lad; slow down. First thing's first," the aasimar spoke to the boy, waving his hands in front of himself, telling the youngling that he wished to speak.

"To your first question, yes, I am a knight, more or less. To your second, no. I travel from, well, nowhere really, more like on the road constantly, and three; yes, whatever assistance I can offer your community, I will."

Veraka hoped that his words were as true as he could make them, for he felt he was always rushing off into another quest to help some random, beleaguered folks out.

If we get in trouble because of me, I blame you, Aurora chimed in through their mental link.
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NathreeDe'Shezbron
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Postby NathreeDe'Shezbron » Tue Jan 18, 2011 5:34 am

Elwyn and Gurguch, his heavily modified flesh golem mount, plodded slowly along the road that passed through a nondescript field. Elwyn kept his dark colored skin covered under a big white hood, attached to an equally large white cloak, that draped over some sort of gourd on his back. He was obviously human, born in the great desert to the far south of the land. When his cloak moved, one could see the bandoleer of scrolls kept just under his vestments. The glint of light, reflected off of something bright and metallic caught his eye, even though it was the faint reflection of the moon. His eyes, enhanced by the magic in the necklace he wore, quickly caught the source, a great mountain of metal, or perhaps it was a set of armor, crafted for a colossus of a man. When he saw the small figure of a boy next to the man, Elwyn hopped off of Gurguch, and with a mental command to his familiar, told him to best blend in with the surroundings. The golem did his best to become a boulder, and except for the glint of metal plating on his arms and back, he did decently well. Elwyn pulled out a scroll, and unfurling it on the ground, whispered a single word. Out of the scroll, suddenly appeared a dark skinned elven hand, soon followed by the rest of the body. The drow puppet stood, and following mutely, and a little stiffly, behind Elwyn as he walked towards that stranger. "Hail, oh metallic mountain of a man. What business do you have with that boy?" He called out, in a heavy accent.
A fight need not end with the death of participant. A fight also ends when the desire to do violence is gone.

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Postby Ogrim » Tue Jan 18, 2011 8:42 am

Outclassed and outwitted, many of those angry farmers find the bluster stolen from them in a flurry of motion they never saw, disarmed, cast aside, and humiliated, all the while left to fumbling around in darkness in search of their lost weapons. Of the few that had the good sense to back out, they come to find the moonlight returned to their eyes, and that unnatural half-sphere of impenetrable darkness, some call out for their missing fellows, others aim but hesitate to fire their crossbows as calls come back from the darkness. Slowly but surely, the once angry and now more so terrified farmers, begin giving ground, and one after another, begin to run... run for their lives, and back for their homes.

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Sweaty and winded, the boy nods once and again, and catches his breath more fully while the answers to his many questions come. Despite the fact that this 'more or less knight' was not sent from Waterdeep, and their messenger, may never have survived the road, the final answer brings a beaming smile, and he begins to point back toward his village when this peculiar man and his companion, a Dark Elf walking in the fashion the bards describe as the manner of a zombie, arrive and hail this would-be hero who might deliver his village from its current plight.

Hardly knowing one or the other of these men, the boy instinctively favors the one in armor to put between himself and this newcomer. "Mister", he speaks low to Veraka, "what is that?"

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Postby NathreeDe'Shezbron » Tue Jan 18, 2011 8:50 pm

Elwyn saw the boy's reaction, and even if he didn't hear what was said, it was obvious the boy was more scared of him than that armored man. Elwyn shrugged, "Judging by how you hide behind him, he must be someone you trust more than I. Very well, however, I ask that you tell me the where the nearest village is, I had heard there was a reward, and my... research requires a decent amount of funding." He stopped a dozen paces from the armored man, and pulling out his scroll, whispered another word, and the drow puppet was sucked in. "There, now it is only myself, please see this as a sign that I do not wish a quarrel with you or your friend."
A fight need not end with the death of participant. A fight also ends when the desire to do violence is gone.

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Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar
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Postby Zarae Zyne Kilanatlar » Wed Jan 19, 2011 6:32 am

with many backing away and some even fleeing, now she had to figure out what to do, how to get out lest she open up on them and take the village out.
the gap left behind, she took her chance and headed out of the darkness and twords the trees dropping several globes to aid in her escape.

((not sure what to do))
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