Birds scatter amd animals jump in alarm as a noise comes from the forest, an elven hunting horn blasts as a war-unicorn, heavily-armoured, charges through the trees. A furious flame-haired wood elf sits in the saddle on the white creature's back, heading into the heart of the forest at speed with a look of rage in her eyes.
A wyrmling, his scales glistening with a crystallic white shine to them, steers his way through the forest at a startling speed. He flits back and forth between trees, the slightest twist of his head or lift of his wing shifting his whole position as he weaves about the forest. He comes upon the fiery haired woman and her armored beast, trailing along with her just above.
Post by styxxbone1 on Jul 24, 2014 19:10:56 GMT -5
A cranky old dwarf clad in adamantine full plate clanks past the cross roads towards the Last Flagon, upon entering he deposits a slate tile upon the bar. It has a message carved upon it. "Give this to them elfish buggers when ye sees them." He then slides a small bag of coins over to the barkeep.
The message reads.
"Ahoy ye elfish tree huggers, Clann Oghrann requests yer presence and a guide, for a grand tour of yer orc an drow infested woods tomorrow night. ((10 pm North American Eastern Fri Aug. 1, 2014)).
// Date Edited due to server being down last Fri.
Last Edit: Jul 28, 2014 19:02:10 GMT -5 by styxxbone1
Post by mysticalkas on Jul 25, 2014 20:16:57 GMT -5
*Amilith is perched in the trees watching those who walk by, He tilts his head and frowns deeply with the heavy footfalls of the dwarf. He follows the dwarf to the Last Flagon, watching him enter he descends from the trees. He waits for the dwarf to exit before entering the inn. Looking around the room he notices the bartender waving to him with a piece of parchment in his hands. Amilith walks over and takes the paper, he looks it over and reads it a few times nodding slowly. He then returns the parchment to the barkeep, dips his head and leaves. He grumbles in the elven tongue*
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 3, 2014 9:17:55 GMT -5
*Amilith enters the inn, the barkeep motioning to him. He walks over for the one sided conversation and is directed to the block. Reading it, he tips the barkeep and writes a letter to be sent to Skull Crag. He then leaves the inn and heads, keeping to the shadows of the trees*
Among the peaced depths of this primeval wood, many things have set to slumber peacefully near the summers end. Night and day passes with basic need, most feeling no unrest in the wood.
Though strange beings roam with subtle ease through the wood, unbothered by the wary animal life that deems it home. With each passed night, a new distant being seems to make its way through the primeval wood.
Elsewhere, a body lays in partial decay in a place of worship. The Shrine to Silvanus, the treefathers grove just north of the crossing. A man lain chest down beside the stairwell rests there. Thick wooden armor and an assortment of thin bladed weapons of various materials. A journal at his hip, a small pack slung to the side only feet away. Various beaten in welts decor his body, burnt by acidic touch. The grounds charred at his feet, though the source unknown.
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 21, 2014 10:03:52 GMT -5
*while on patrol, something he does with no regularity, Amilith walks the forest. he lookes in on various places to ensure all is well. checking caves, coves, and groves for signs of disturbances. making his way back to the safety of the settlement, he stops off at the Tree Fathers grove again to see if the one he searches for has returned. this would make two cycles that he has looked for this person with no luck and seeing no trace left behind. he watches the panther play with some of the wildlife shaking his head. he would call to her in elven "We do not have time for you to play with your food Midnight, eat and lets be off". rarely does he joke or seem anything other than impartial to matters, but the faintest hint of a smile that plays upon his lips is always present when alone and watching his world go by. with a sudden start Amilith stops and takes to the shadows. a stillness, complete quiet..taking to the shadows both he and the panther tread. with their hunting style long practiced they separate first the panther, then the elf. he waits for a count of 3 before heading out after the panther, opposite directions so as to take their pray down quickly. about halfway through their normal routine is shattered by the panther darting strait to him. agitation and annoyances heavy on her actions. knowing it is safe he proceeds to follow at a quick pace. there the shrine is seen, and before it a body. Amilith darts in apply what healing arts he has to lend aid to the fallen the smell of acid heavy on the air now...with a quick word he turns to the panther, gripping its head in his hands and looking into its eyes. a quick moment passes, then a loud roar is heard escaping the panthers throat as it darts off racing to the settlement. the roar is heard fading as the distance grows. he returns to the body to strip it down and wash the acid away.......
~Sounds of a small tustle between a strong warrior and some evil denizens of the Hullack would reach the Grove. Silence again, then the creak of heavy armor, and the rustle of wings would fill the area. The woman walking in the woods is NOT silent in the least. Not really noticing anything very abnormal, as the forest usually would go silent as she passes through, Amothrade would walk right into the grove unsuspecting. But upon seeing Amilith bending over a now nearly-naked body, she'd pause. Tilting her head to the side while strapping her scythe to her back, she'd come over towards him. Quietly pursing her lips, she'd look at the two of them. Observing for a moment, then lending her quite decent healing skills as she's able. But seeing that the body is in a stage of decay, she wrinkles her nose and puts her hand on Amilith's shoulder to stop him from his more desperate moves~
Darling, this one didn't make it...
Strength through Discipline, Order through Strength, Peace through Order
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 21, 2014 11:52:30 GMT -5
*with a frown upon his features he would continue tending to the body, upon hearing the decent of a creature he would, with quick reflexes roll out the way stopping in a defensive crouch with his bow locked upon the intruder, an arrow knocked and shimmers with a darkness as he speaks softly an incantation. recognizing the other he would relax lowering his bow beside the body. a slight tensing of his muscles as she places her hand on his shoulder. he would turn his attention to the body when she speaks her words nodding slowly. he would then return to his task speaking softly in the elven tongue. "I know, I have have already sent for the priests. I tend them should he answer the call to return." *with un-gloved hands he would smooth the facial features to a more relaxed state, then positions the body wrapping it within a finely made elven cloak. he would gather the belongings, piling what is left beside the body. there he would wait, lost in prayer.
Last Edit: Sept 21, 2014 11:54:27 GMT -5 by mysticalkas
~She very quietly takes a seat nearby. Watchful, but not overly wary of what is going on around them. Protecting, perhaps, as Amilith goes back to prayers with the body. She shrugs to herself, then reaches back to loosen the straps on her scythe. Just in case. But still, she doesn't look worried at all~
Well, I will wait also, until they arrive. *She slowly switches into elven* And perhaps whomever that is will return. Do you know whom it is? The body looks a bit.. rough.
Strength through Discipline, Order through Strength, Peace through Order
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 23, 2014 19:18:00 GMT -5
*sitting there with the body he turns his head as he hears a familiar roar getting closer. he double checks the body to ensure it is tended and stands. There he looks to Amothrade "They have arrived" *He would say, then returns to the body waiting the few moments before the others arrive behind a black panther.
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 24, 2014 8:53:15 GMT -5
*the panther enters the grove, upon seeing Amothrade it becomes guarded while slowly walking back to where Amilith is. when there the panther would sense the mood and relax to a less agitated state. shortly behind would follow the elves, bows and swords at the ready, wizards and the priest surrounded in the mix. to a trained eye both arcane and divine magic are in abundance. they would look to Amothrade while continuing on to the body. speaking in quiet tones a small conversation takes place, Amilith's attitude is calm and void of emotion. he would then speak aloud "find what has happened". at the ending of the words they would incline their heads in response, their the priest would look over the body, the others would separate to begin looking for tracks and traces of spent magic that could lead to the reasons of what happened. a few would spread out taking up positions as guards, and some would take to the shadows of the trees heading further out to begin their search.
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 24, 2014 16:55:02 GMT -5
*they gently pick the body up carrying it with care. when in the settlement it is taken to the shrine so the priest can tend to it and see what can be done. the question upon all is will he answer the call to return*...
~When more elves show up Amothrade would stay nearby-for a while. But sensing the tension that her appearance causes, she'd eventually just wander off farther into the Hullack. If any do take the time to follow her, they'd find her out killing orcs, goblins, and ghastly things out there as if it was just any other day for her.~
Strength through Discipline, Order through Strength, Peace through Order
The grove of Silvanus falls silent, bearing witness to the arrival of a man clad in a garb of the living forest. His hair, once dark, is now graying, and there are lines on his face, of age and of wisdom. His stride however is still strong, and his shoulders straight. At his side pads a mighy dire wolf, eyes keen and shining green in the forest light. The two approach the altar to the Tree Father, and man begins to take a knee, then pauses. He glances around the grove, then leans down and places his hands to the grass. His eyes close, and he listens to what the forest tells him. After a few moments, he lifts his head once more and stands up, taking up his walking staves. He briefly murmers "In Silvanus name," then turns and exits the grove, his face looking to be made of stone. The dire wolf pads out with him, ever alert at his brother's side.
Two boys, one cat, one wife, one home, one happy family.
Post by goldenhearts on Nov 17, 2014 6:28:55 GMT -5
A crashing of wood is heard, as branches are snapped as several bandits flee their small encampment. A shrieking cry is heard, as one of the bandits gurgles his last cry in this life. The leader of the small group of bandits, turns to fire his bow. To see a Deva running through one of his group. In panic he fires his bow, the arrows somehow missing the intended target. His two companions that still live, rush by panting and shouting "Flee for your lives!" The bandit leader turns to run once more and shudders at the thought of what may come to pass. His brow is wet, his skin is warm from running in his leather armour. He blinks a moment and runs past one of his companions, and a terrible thunk is heard as the Deva pounces upon his panicked foe. The poor fool exhales his last gasping breath as he watches his companions flee. The leader and his companion pant heavily as their lungs are near bursting from running. They both stop, in the hopes to gain a small respite from the pursuing Deva. The bandits breath hard, hiding in a small nook within the Hullack as one of the bandits takes a peek round the tree they are near. His face turns a ghostly white as a figure wearing a golden armour is seen. The Deva following close by as the two close in on their quarry.
"I...I think they found us!" replies the bandit to the the leader. "We'll make our stand here then." the leader replies, shivering from the cold sweat that has gathered after running.
A melodic Elven voice is heard, the song like speech clearly in Elven, which the Deva translates to common. "Come out if you will, I will not kill you just yet!"
The bandits nod to each other and burst from their cover, the leader let's off several shots from his bow. The second man runs in close, swinging his longsword at the gold clad woman. They both cry out their charge in a vain hope to escape this day. But then, with a sudden flash of light, the first man with the sword is felled within moments by the gold clad woman. The Deva springs into action and knocks the bow from the leaders hands, pushing the man to the ground with a hard thump. He lays upon the floor looking up to the Deva, that holds his sword to the poor wretches throat, he swallows hard. Knowing his day may end at any moment.
The Elven woman approaches, and speaks once more which the Deva translates for the poor soul.
"You will live this day, and you will tell your kind. You are not welcome within the Hullack. The elves are always watching, the swords will strike to root you all out, and our arrows will darken the woods. Take this message to others like you, tell them the Elves are still here, and the wardens are acting."
The man then scampers off, perhaps a little relieved of being alive and from soiling his trousers. Either way, the woods fall silent once again. Other than the sounds of the wildlife within. The gold clad woman vanishes once more with the Deva at her side.
Post by mysticalkas on Nov 17, 2014 10:30:28 GMT -5
*on a walk along the Hullack he would come across this scene, a deep frown creasing his face as he surveys the destruction of the trees and ground that are littered with the remains of bodies. He would then inspect each of them in turn looking for a survivor among them. He checks to see if anything can be found before making his way home. a black panther trots along behind him with a small animal clutched between its teeth*
Post by docofmadness on Nov 17, 2014 15:53:02 GMT -5
A dwarf in blood covered spiked armor, rampages though the woods. As he finds a group of orks he charges in swinging his rapiers screaming *ya bloody tusker knowen an tem winged tuskers* as he carves a blood path though the forest leaving piles of blood orks body parts in his wake. he stops at the last flagon to drain an pint or ten and leaves a bloody note ,written in dwarven script, tacked to the door. *if any of ye flower eaters see any winged, dragon like, tusker, deamons leave a message at the wolf inn in skull crag. iffen ye do see um be ware for they bash like a orge in blood rage, be wared they demanding a tribute from all they meet and will take it off ye corpse iffen they can>
player of oglier crackpot allei'ion trueheart falcum stoneskin honorbound oathblade