Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Tragedy_and_Comedy » Thu Dec 09, 2010 8:03 am

Tennan

Tennan slipped into the room and pulled back into the shadows. She glared at the Rulers of Magic. Them! They didn't care about the people. They just wanted control, just like the village leaders. Especially him, he could have destroyed the village.
Why have you called us here? she called, her muffled voice still sounding hateful, If it's going to hurt the villages I WON'T help. She looked around at the garish surroundings, I want to go home to my swamps.
You... you really don't get it... do you? I... I love him... I'd die with him. Or for him. That's what you do... how you feel when you love someone. - Impulse
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Keiran » Thu Dec 09, 2010 10:33 am

Cain ran forward, moving past the angry woman and scrambled up on the table, sitting on the edge. He giggled softly and pulled down the hood of his cloak, rubbing the scar on his face. “What can I do to help?” the eleven year old said, grinning and playing with his soft strawberry blonde hair.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Karo » Fri Dec 10, 2010 1:05 am

Bright purple eyes watched as the first two walked into the chamber, one demanding to know what was going on, the other promising to help without even considering what was going on. And yet neither of them had noticed her on their way in. The girl that owned the amethyst orbs had been here since the early morning, she had found the grey city to cold and unfeeling when compared to her jungle home, so she had come to the one place where she knew that a denizen of the jungle would be, as fast as she could. She turned to look at the man in question, who was currently muttering to herself. And no doubt the flash of light caused by her pearlescent cloak would draw the eyes of both of the newcomers in the room. If they looked, they would be met with a peculiar sight. The girl was quite diminutive, looking to be no older than 14 with a shock of dark auburn hair pulled into two tight pigtails on the top of her head, with everything else besides her bangs braided into twin tails at the nape of her neck. Along with the translucent, petal-like cloak descending from her shoulders, she wore a light green halter dress with detached sleeves, with a brown sash at her waist and brown sandals that laced up her calves. Her clothes were meant for the warm jungles to the east, the home she longed to return to.
Zath: Behold, Karo: The only woman in existence who can make Fenix shut the fuck up.
Redsnow: That, and, frankly, if Karo doesn't like you that much, your character is probably going to die soon after his acceptance anyway.
Keiran: Bad RPs don't get picked, unmemberable RPs get ignored.
Zelosse: I don't usually laugh at blatant attitude, but when I do. It usually involves Karo.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Zath » Sun Dec 12, 2010 3:31 am

{ Elias - Well that was interesting... }

Elias walked into the meeting room, looking somewhat more tired than usual. "Ugh... didn't sleep at all..." He said groggily, making sure the medallion was tucked securely into his shirt so no one could see it. He straightened all of the vials inside of his trench coat, essentially just to kill time. He sat down at the table, and saw that Orma was hungover as all hell, Argith was paying to real attention to his surroundings and just absorbed in his readings, and Eustillian just watching. He sat down at the table, and patiently waited for the others to arrive and sit down. He shifted and cracked his knuckles, then stretched his back. His entire body stiff from being nearly still all night, only his arms moving while concoting.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Iris » Sun Dec 12, 2010 5:29 am

-Galinn, Uuurrgh hungover-

With a haggard walk and an exasperated grunt, a rather soaked Galinn reentered meeting room. Originally he had arrived more or less with Orma but due to the blinding headache, the North-man decided to get himself of most of his ailments caused by the ruckus and drinking yesterday.
Asking for momentarily leave, Galinn searched for a mage who was able to use cold magic. That said, this was under Orma's advise as the North-man originally intended to jump in one of the ponds. So with a piece of parchment in hand as his groggy voice was too... inaudiable to those who've never been as drunk as the two warriors.

After finding a rather frightened ice mage, Galinn simply pointed to a nearby water source that was deep enough for his plans and 'requested' (Due to the headaches and still being somewhat drunk, Galinn was grunting and grumbling rather than using actual speech.) that she make it as cold as possible without freezing it completely. Once done Galinn rather unceremoniously removed his new vest (a gift from Orma), probably shocking the mage even further, and dunked his head into the cold water and simply held it there for a minute and only came up for a gasp of air.
Several dunks later most of Galinn's ailments had disappeared or at least lessened, thanking the ice mage with honest gratitude, with a rough handshake he left the now completely confused mage to wonder what had just happened.

Before he entered the room, the North-man had to wring out the water in his beard and most of his hair, with a grin he reentered giving a nod to Cain as he made his way to Orma. "Well friend Orma, it does appear the old methods still work after all, even after that feast we had! Come, once we are done with this gathering we shall find the ice user again and ask if she can help you too. That is assuming you can stand up again, HAHAHA!" The giant suddenly clutched his head and groaned, "No, looks like it is still too early to laugh."
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Zelosse » Sun Dec 12, 2010 5:57 am

-Orma-

As the big man laughed, Orma held his head and closed his eyes as the pain in his head exploded momentarily. "Not... so loud..." He breathed silently. Nobody likely heard him but it was clear he was in pain yet still he was here for his duties and honor bound to give what he could; in this case it was information. "Uuuuuugh My head feels like I got smashed with a warhammer." He stammered as he adjusted in his seat to be more formal but quickly noted that wouldn't help, the small girl was back demanding answers.

With a dissatisfied grumble he stared daggers at the little girl for a moment then spoke up. "Hush little one, or I-" He held his head and seemed to scream in pain as a loud booming noise exploded in the room, the sudden movement tipped his chair over causing him to smash his head against the ground. The jolt of hitting the ground didn't phase him, it was his brain shaking.
From across the table sat Argith, holding a small shattered vial that was the source of the sudden noise. "OOPS." Argith said with a frown, tossing the broken vial on the floor behind him, about 7 other vials were on the ground to be swept up later. Adjusting the various parchments and tomes he had around him, the rather frail man simply frowned Orma's way. "Sit down Tennan, we aren't going to hurt any villages. Yet."

Eustillian was the most mannered of all, sitting through the two's displeasure with eachother with unlinking resolve. His face seemed set in stone as he just sat there and stared down to his papers, eventually everyone came to look at him waiting for the dramatic speech to come but found him unmoving. Literally. In from a side door an exact replica came Eustillian, sliding out the chair and pushing the wooden replica to the ground with clattering, in the exact sitting position it had been all this time. Without missing a beat the real? Eustillian began his short speech. "To answer many questions at once, we have summoned you all here, except the giant whom came of his own free will, because a threat lingers on our borders. All of them. The darkness of the north is on the move, 17 villages out in the badlands have been obliterated and mutated by a mixture of the spellfire restarting in the area or some unknown butcher. The bodies we have discovered suffered blunt trauma with some small slash scars."

Eustillian was interrupted as Argith cut in forcefully, "Spellfire kill people, many dead, you all go find and kill guy who started it. Got it? good. Bye." With that he stood up, albeit slowly, and walked away while leaning on his cane. The soft thumping as it hit the marbled floor, each one made Orma wince. "You'll all find supplies ready for you, set out at once to the borders around the jungle." The door opened and a servant was their to escort him to private quarters, just as the door almost closed it flung open again as Argith booted it loudly open before tossing another loud firecracker potion that detonated harmlessly with a large and audible boom. Orma passed out momentarily on the floor from the sudden attack on his mind from all the sheer noise.

Argith simply grunted and left for good. Eustillians hand mysteriously found it's way to his face as a sigh escaped his lips.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Iris » Mon Dec 13, 2010 5:58 pm

Galinn, Meeting room

"I came because the omens declared that my aid was needed and that the Fjord clan would still abide by the bloodpact we settled long ago with the other nations, Learned One." Galinn responded to Eustillian's comment about him coming on his own accord, his ears ringing due to the strange vials, "It does appear however that there are some who distrust our intentions and our... warrior nature."

The giant's tone was highly respectful, it was tradition to show much respect to those had both great wisedom and great power, Eustillian had in but a single moment shown both to the North-man. Taking a casual look around, Galinn inspected the others.
The cowled woman from yesterday, the one who seemed to distrust him the most right now, was here. Several questions had sparked the giant's curiousity but also a small part of his anger as she had rather indirectly questioned his honor.

The young boy was also here, Galinn was very grateful for the healing he had recieved from the boy's magic but had asked him not to fully heal it, in fact he asked if the lad could allow it to scar so that he could bring back the tale of how he faced the legend known as; Orma of the East. Though right now said legend looked rather preoccupied.
A smile played on his lips as he looked towards the other two, a little girl who seemed rather silent (A trait Galinn wondered if the other woman would show later.) and a man who seemed tired, his clothing showed little combat practicallity in the eyes of the North-man but Galinn figured the other nations and their people had adapted to the needs of their lands so didn't judge him by it.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Zelosse » Mon Dec 20, 2010 3:02 pm

-A wee bit o' the timeskip magic!-

The group of 6 were escorted out of the large palace-like structure that served as the law office for all of Ark, their belongings in town had been set aside in secure area's close to the meeting place before they departed so that they could make any last minute adjustments or grab something they had not taken with them to the meetings, Orma had given them special medicines and ferns from the jungles to aid their travels and hardships such as fatigue or drowziness. He also sent a few casks of fine wine and a special brew just for Galinn labeled in a dark red.

Argith was the first person of notable influence to meet them at the gates to depart the Ark but he was not waving goodbyes or advice but instead 4 carriages with strong Nightmare steeds awaited them.
The nightmares sat patiently, the flames on their hooves and eyes defined their demonic heritage, these beasts were summoned from the nether to serve them as tireless pack-horses for the Carriages, their manes were onyx black and brimstone clung to the air around them but yet all seemed tame enough to get the job done.

The women had their own seperate Carriage, the driver was a lanky man with a worn shortsword at his hip and tough leather armor. He held the Reigns with pride and purpose, the other stage coaches were similar in how they dressed but all looked to him for guidance at times, he ushered them in with a hint of haste in his voice.

Argith had his own private Carriage, more of a mobile lab really, set aside and he invited the other alchemist to join him for study and development, the third carriage carried everyone but Galinn whom would not have fit in such a confined space with any others so he had been given Orma's personal coach to ride in. Comfortable but not overly-decorated like the others, meant for a man who shunned such luxury as either a sign of weakness or resignation.
Argith continued to bellow for them to hustle with their packs and other such needs, he was a busy creature and wanted to get his duties to the leaders done with so he could return to the swamps he loved so dearly.

The sun was high in the sky by the time all of them had set off for the horizon. Each carriage had a stack of papers detailing the events of the dissapearing villagers over the last few weeks along with details about their mission inside. Reckon and damage reports, information was all that was needed. Galinn had been given permission to engage enemies in any way he felt necessary for the protection of the group as a whole.

-2 days of travel later-

The days were long, starting at the break of dawn and ending well into the night, normally horses would have died from exhaustion but the nightmares were tireless demons summoned for that exact reason. The only reason they had stopped was to ward off would-be raiders by creating a defensible little fort with the carriages back to back, the nightmares untethered and left to roam, they could not go far or leave so they acted as patrolman.

On the beginning of the second day of travel a small raiding company had foolishly attacked the carriages in a tight ravine near the mountains thinking the tight quarters and their 3:1 ratio would quickly overcome to group but were sorely disappointed when Argith's volatile nature had seeped into them causing mass hysteria and disease, the raiders did not all succumb and were simply forced out by the group efforts, simple enough for common thugs.



The sun was setting when our group finally arrived in a barren and desolate desert, the ground was tainted and black with some unknown curse and on the wind was the distinct chill of the dead, in the distance loomed a ghost town and even from their positions they could see broken down buildings and dried blood, nothing stirred inside that they could see but nobody likely believed it still empty.

Argith was the first to speak, exiting his carriage and beginning his slow but steady walk to the defiled village, his cane shifting oddly in his hand as the sand made it hard for him to balance with it. The carriages would do little good in the town other than be smashed or ruined, so they were force to stay behind.

"If any of you kids want to stay behind, I don't really care. I don't want to babysit." Scoffing as he walked, the sight of him was nothing more then an old man in a robe hunched on a cane, any of them could see through his disguise. He was afraid just like most of them, this man cared for himself and that was it yet here he was on a scouting mission. Something didn't add up.
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Keiran » Mon Dec 20, 2010 3:20 pm

Cain jumped out after Agrith and called, “Wait for me Mister! I’m coming with you.” He pushed up his glasses and started to babble, rubbing his scar, “What do you think we’ll find? Are you okay Mister? I’m sure it will be okay. You won’t have to babysit me, promise! Lesse go, we can help now!”
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Re: Curse of the lost ones: Trouble brewing... (IC)

Postby Iris » Mon Dec 20, 2010 4:06 pm

Galinn, Ghost town

Riding a horse was one thing but this carriage was too much for him. It was simply too soft... too civilized, this was something that no North-man was use to. Outside of the short moments Galinn had to simply stare to the outside as it sped past.
For man who's existence was based on the hunt and the fight to survive, this journey had tested his patience and only the fact he was riding in Orma's own coach prevented him from turning it into kindling wood.

In the haze of the setting sun, they had arrived at a so called 'ghost-town', the destruction was impressive but the scent of lingering blood had placed Galinn on alert, he did not like this. "Keep your voice down little one." Galinn whispered as he exited his coach, pulling out both his axes and tried to make as little noise as possible, "Maintain a watchful eye, I do not trust this place. Too many ambush points already..."

His low voice grumbled as he mentioned possible ambushes, thinking back to the failed raid on the carriages and the fate that struck the raiders. Argith had shown little mercy, though he was no fighter in the traditional sense, the fact he held such power in his grasp left the North-man in both awe and horror.
The ways of the other nations had been a shock to Galinn for he was not as use to magic as the others.
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