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Author Topic: Chapter 2B: Emerging from the Shadows  (Read 27198 times)
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Elendilwyn
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« Reply #30 on: February 14, 2006, 11:55:23 PM »

Yarg had stopped his line midway and Elen followed his gaze to the tavern and she saw the rest of her group stumbling out but before she could react, Yarg had went over to stop the fire—a magical fire—Elen looked on in disbelief. She felt like her life was turning upside down. Too many strange happenings in two days was not good for her disposition. She felt disoriented from the fact that she simply did not know what she was expected to do and it seemed that every time she tried to help or keep her place, it went wrong. From refusing to sit at the Duchess’s meeting, helping Luca wash up the night before to treating burns… Elen felt lost and slightly miserable.

That was until Luca’s fit of anger and subsequent throw of Tasuli and Elen, like the rest of the crowd, stared in horror. Tasuli was not going to take this well and she immediately went up to Luca to try and calm her down, her hands on Luca’s shoulders to try and restrain her should she attempt to hurt Tasuli any further.

“Stop it Luca, he’s already hurt. Remember our duty,” she said gently.


The day has waned, walk with me, grant me this song... Can you hear?
The midnight sun is calling...


Elendilwyn Gwaihir

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Tasuli Rose
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Half-elf Ylfferhim / Erpheronian


« Reply #31 on: February 15, 2006, 11:30:23 AM »

Tears streamed down his cheeks as the first blow landed, grazing his eyebrow in its descent. The pain was slight and was not the source of his tears. A feeling of remorse had come over him as he regretted his every deed, perceiving them as the injustices they were. As a noble, he was responsible for acting with a moral fiber above that of the common man and should not lower himself to staring at the gangly legs of this unfortunate thief. It was beneath him to lust after such a creature, as she deserved his pity and nothing else.

As he was hoisted by his collar once more, the tears ceased and he smiled dreamily as he gazed into the depths of her soft brown eyes, her words flowing past him unheard. Oh how beautiful she was as the fires of rage burned within her eyes, her lips cutely curling into a grimace as her face flushed the deepest shade of crimson. The slightest breeze stirred her short copper locks as they flowed around her fair countenance, each strand attracting his gaze for only a moment.

His reverie was broken as he was thrust through the crowd, her rejection of him stoking the anger within him. Falling to one knee as the crowd parted around him, he angrily grasped the hilt of his sword with one hand, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. Twice the foul creature dared to lay her hands upon his royal person, and such an action could not go unpunished. With one strike of his sword justice would be served as the world was rid of a lowly criminal. Slowly his head lifted as he glared at Luca as she approached him, venturing toward her doom though she knew it not. Tears yet stained his cheeks, yet they had long since stopped flowing as his gaze hardened, focusing on the thief. With a scream of pure rage, he pushed off from the cobblestones as he stood and drew his sword, wielding it in both hands as he menacingly extended it toward Luca. “I dispense justice this day with the blow of a sword. Stand aside, servant and attempt not to protect this criminal.”

Without waiting for Elendilwyn to move, trusting her to not move into the strike of his sword, Tasul’i stepped forward as he slashed downward with the blade, aiming his blow at the thief’s neck. Years of training surfaced within his mind as he moved with the blade and used his shoulders to power its descent.  

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Yarg Anklebiter
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Hobbit, Dogodan


« Reply #32 on: February 15, 2006, 03:12:23 PM »

Yarg sat quietly, watching the crowd with a small smile on his face, attempting to catch his breath. It did not take long for him to realize that there was altercation in the crowd. He saw a young woman grab a young man and start shoving him. Yarg's smile disappeared, replace by a rare look of despair. These people were fighting! They shouldn't be fighting! They shouldn't be fighting!! Yarg forgot his weariness, standing up quickly, although leaning heavily on his walking stick, which he had picked up after it's fall from the large man's arm. He quickly decides that he must end this violence and hate.

Thrusting his hands into his pouch, coating them with sulphur, Yarg quickly concentrates on the air around him, finding the chaos and drawing it to him, letting it build to the size of a human head. Then, in a rush of energy, hurled it at Tasuli, who had drawn a sword, with as much accuracy as his weariness and despair would allow.

As soon as the spell was off, Yarg's power was consumed, and weariness consumed him, as his small frame leaned heavily on his walking stick, before finally collapsing in an unconcious heap.

Whenever I see a Fire, I try to put it out. 'Cept unlike the usual methods, I use OIL!!

- Yarg

Edited by: Yarg Anklebiter at: 2/15/06 7:14
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Tasuli Rose
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« Reply #33 on: February 15, 2006, 07:18:23 PM »

Flames obscured his vision as the fireball hurtled toward him, catching him in the chest as the fire spread out to scorch his fine silk tunic, leaving it in tatters of blackened fabric. Anyone standing nearby was struck by flames as the fireball exploded. Stumbling backward, his blade fell short of striking the thief, descending only a palmspan from her. Realization that flames yet licked along the remnants of his tunic came upon him, and fear took root within his mind. The chaotic memories of being within the burning tavern surfaced within his mind as he released his sword, frantically beating at his tunic with his hands. A scream burst forth from his lips at the thought of being burned alive. Swiftly he began to run, as if to flee the flames that yet clung to him, all the while screaming as sheer terror consumed his mind. Upon reaching the fringes of the crowd, he turned back and ran toward the tavern once more, only to turn around again as he was confronted by the smoldering ruins. Anyone looking upon him could not help but laugh at his antics as he was essentially running in circles while screaming.

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ratdragon
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« Reply #34 on: February 16, 2006, 06:29:23 AM »

Ratdragon stared at Tasuli and Luca, wondering what had caused this altercation. The duke seemed to have several emotions flash across his face, finally ending in one of pain and terror as a fireball exploded on his chest.

Before he could search for the source of this flaming missle, Ratdragon was struck with flames as the projectile burst on Tasuli, singing his clothing and leaving a charred streak across his cheek.

Quickly putting his clothes out, the elf leaped from his crouched position on the ground. Holding his injured arm to his side, the elf gasped at the pain, but he needed to stop Tasuli before he hurt himself. As the half-elf ran by, Ratdragon tried to tackle him, screaming "Tasuli! You're only fanning the flames! Stay still." And with that, the elf attempted to smother the flames with the remnants of the duke's clothes.

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Luca the Thief
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« Reply #35 on: February 16, 2006, 11:14:23 AM »

Luca's eyes widened with horror as Tasuli charged her with his sword raised high. Stopped dead in her tracks, the half-elf tried to backpeddle away from the obviously mentally disturbed duke, only to run into Elendilwyn behind her. Cursing, the thief half-turned in the effort to get both her and and the other girl out of the way, only to be afronted by a blinding light and a flash of heat.

Shutting her eyes in panic, Luca shoved the younger half-elf to the ground and turned her back on the fire, attempting to shield her face with a raised arm. Closest in proximitiy to the flame other than Tasuli himself, Luca felt it's heat even through Ratdragon's charity cloak from the night before and a sweat beaded on the back of her neck. Her free hand flew to the amulet about her neck, subconsciously praying for her friend to come to her.

Then it was gone. Blinking, Luca looked up and around only to see Tasuli tearing down the road in a fit of panic, flames coiling off his body in whisps as he dashed about like a madman. Stunned, she looked down, examining her person. The cloak was mildy scorched and a few hairs on the back of her head curled and kinked from the heat, but otherwise, the half-elf was fine.

At first there was embarassment, though it seemed most people's attention had been turned to the flaming fool of a nobleman, and then anger. Luca considered beating Tasuli into submission for the trouble he had put her through, but even now the half-elf feared retribution from dark mage that had approached her that morning.

Turning to Elen, Luca ran a hand through her hair and said, "The little one is out cold on the stones. If you're feelin' okay yourself, I'd figure he could use a hand."


Contact me: faye_004@yahoo.ca or all us admins: rpg@santharia.com

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Elendilwyn
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« Reply #36 on: February 16, 2006, 01:27:23 PM »

What Elen did not foresee was that the Duke should attempt to kill Luca. She was horrified and wanted to pull Luca away except that Luca reacted first and ran straight into her and subsequently shoving her to the ground.

Then there was fire.

She wanted to scream but her voice got stuck in her throat from fear. She felt the heat but was not badly injured by it—perhaps just a few sores on her arm that was used to shield her face which will probably be fine once run under cold water—being pushed in time by Luca.

She nodded at Luca’s statement and then proceeded to pick herself up, her legs a little unstable from the sudden fall in an awkward position. She saw that the hobbit had fallen unconscious as Luca had said but at the same time, she saw the Duke running in circles, his clothes on fire. She was horrified and stood there staring blankly for a moment. Then she remembered the hobbit could put out fire.

“Quick, we have to wake the hobbit. He can put out the fire that is burning the Duke’s clothes.”


The day has waned, walk with me, grant me this song... Can you hear?
The midnight sun is calling...


Elendilwyn Gwaihir

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Luca the Thief
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« Reply #37 on: February 17, 2006, 02:02:23 PM »

Thumbs hooked casually over her belt, Luca looked Elen over as she steadied herself on legs of the less than favorable type. The half-elf, Luca reckoned, wasn't far too much younger than herself, yet she was oh so different in a naive kind of way. It was cute, the thief thought, nodding a little in response to Elen, though more to herself than anything, despite the trouble it probably has and will get the girl in in the future.

Without so much as another word, the thief took off at a nonchalant canter to the hobbit, people of the crowd still eyeing her warily, and squatted down at Yarg's unconscious form. Her nimble hands worked quickly and discretely before Elendilwyn followed her, moving him about and laying him spread-eagle on the cool cobbles. Fingers poking and prodding suitable places, the half-elf subtley searched the hairy man's body for anything of value.

And when was it last that you met a hobbit with much of anything worth more than a toll on him?

The half-elf was startled as the familiar female voice swam through her mind, jumping slightly. Brows coming together in annoyance, her eyes scanned the sky and nearby rooftops to catch a glimpse of the bird she had forgotten she had summoned in her moment of panic. Her mouth moved as she snapped back, sharp words leaving her mind only to be heard by the dark winged figure perched casually on the rooftop behind Luca. Yet, as she spoke, the thief's eyes rose to the sky in search of her friend, giving the appearance of her praying to the gods for some kind of hasty miracle...


Contact me: faye_004@yahoo.ca or all us admins: rpg@santharia.com

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Elendilwyn
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« Reply #38 on: February 17, 2006, 11:55:23 PM »

Luca's response to things around her was faster than Elen imagined herself ever to able to be. She had already laid the hobbit out and was helping him--or at least that was what it seemed as she had no idea how "helping" someone wounded by magic was supposed to look like. Elen walked over and knelt next to Luca, watching and waiting to see what happens.  


The day has waned, walk with me, grant me this song... Can you hear?
The midnight sun is calling...


Elendilwyn Gwaihir

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Tasuli Rose
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« Reply #39 on: February 19, 2006, 06:10:23 PM »

A grunt escaped his lips as Tasul’i was tackled by the elf, his back slamming against the cobblestones still damp from the previous night’s rain. Curling into a ball, soft sobs shook his slight frame as the elf beat out the fire with the tattered remains of his tunic. Once the fire was out and the elf ceased his assault, Tasul’i seemed to regain his composure as he slowly sat up. Furiously he glared at Ratdragon, his hand reaching for his hip where his sword should reside. Upon realizing its absence, he scowled and stood, promising himself that the elf would be punished on a later date for daring to touch him.

Filled with purpose were his strides as he walked to where his sword now lay. After placing the sword upon his belt once more, he glanced about at the strangers meant to accompany him, taking in their haggard appearances after being struck by flames, the condition of his own clothes seeming to escape his notice. Most seemed to yet be fit enough to journey forth from the city, yet there was no doubt that Malik would never again wield his sword. Walking over to the Kuglimz mercenary, he roughly stomped on the man’s fingers, the ensuing scream confirming his conclusions. As he crouched down to peer into Malik’s face, his slender fingers grasped the other man by the chin as he maliciously whispered.

“You are not fit to accompany me. Crawl back to my mother, filth, and tell her of your failure. I have no further use for you.”


Without another word to the mercenary, he stood and walked to where the hobbit lay. Not even seeming to notice the two females, he viciously aimed a kick toward the ribs of the halfling. His voice was harsh and filled with rage as it emanated from his lips.

“Awake, foul mage. You have much to answer for.”


Malik

After screaming from the blinding pain within his burnt fingers as they were stepped on, he stoically listened to the Duke. Silently he watched the Duke stride away as several thoughts whirled through his mind. Despite harboring an intense dislike of the boy, he could not deny the truth of his words. A glance at his sword arm revealed the flesh to be blackened and beginning to bubble, and his crooked fingers surely would not be able to grasp the hilt of his sword. With a grunt, he used his uninjured arm to steady himself as he stood, shaking his head at the Duke’s apparent disregard for the pain of others. Someone was needed to replace him, someone with a similar strength and size. Remembering the large man stumbling forth from the tavern earlier, Malik walked over to him, holding his injured arm awkwardly across his chest. His azure gaze roamed the man’s body as the mercenary sized him up, perceiving potential beneath the exterior of drunkenness. Anyone possessing such size must have Kuglimz blood flowing through his veins, and Malik believed that he could trust someone descended from his people despite having left his homeland years ago.

“Hail, warrior. The blood of my people flows through your veins, gracing you with an honor beyond that of these southerners. As you can see, I am no longer capable of performing my tasks as a mercenary. Would you be willing to accompany the Duke and his strange companions as protection? Name your price, ask and ye shall receive.”

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Bahran the big
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« Reply #40 on: February 20, 2006, 06:11:23 AM »

Bahran looked on the ensuing commotion with lackluster enthusiasm. He had seen it all before, or at least something similar. Maybe he had never seen a hobbit absorb fire and spit it out his fingers, and maybe he had never seen a lover's quarrel between a couple of half-elves, and maybe he'd never seen an elf tackle a half-elf. Actually, maybe he had never seen anything else like what he had just seen, but his enthusiasm was lackluster nonetheless.

The big man was slightly startled when the man of comparable height appeared in his peripheral vision. The proposition the man offered was not unappetizing to the mercenary.

“Aye, I'm more 'an willin' to protect this Duke and these compan'ins uh his,” Bahran offered, careful not to mention the price just yet. “Now, who are this 'Duke' and his companions?”  

_____________

"Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication."
- Lord Byron

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"Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication."
- Lord Byron
Luca the Thief
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« Reply #41 on: February 20, 2006, 10:16:23 AM »

Luca leaned back on her heels and rested her forearms across her knees in thought, looking the hobbit over. He was pretty unconscious, and the half-elf had seen many a man drift off to dreamland whether via exhaustion, intoxication or exposure to things of an overly savory or not-so matter. She looked to Elen, hoping perhaps the other half-elf had any idea what to do, though she could figure from the girl's expression that she was just about a lost as her.

Luca's first aid oriented thoughts were dismissed however, as there was a flurry of movement, a rush of air near her face and a feather floating slowly down in front of her. Pick, dark crimson wings outstretched, was strutting up Yarg's belly and bobbing her head towards the little man's face. Her beak pecked and prodded none-too-gently at the mage's hair and cheek. Luca's face dropped in dismay as she watched her little friend go about her own attempt at waking up the hobbit.

Before she could berate the eagle, Luca caught an unfortunately familiar swagger out of the corner of her eye and turned just in time to spot Tasuli about to give the hairy mage a wake up call of his own. In all honestly, the half-elf really couldn't care less if he kicked Yarg, but she wasn't exactly keen on nursing a broken wing attached to a whining fowl.

In one smooth movement, the thief scooted back on the balls of her feet and stood, her hips bumping just lightly enough to unbalance Tasuli and put off his footing.


Contact me: faye_004@yahoo.ca or all us admins: rpg@santharia.com

Edited by: Luca the Thief at: 2/20/06 2:24
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Tasuli Rose
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« Reply #42 on: February 22, 2006, 06:32:23 AM »

Malik

Sighing in relief as the man agreed to accompany the Duke, Malik turned to leave as the second statement reached his ears. At first his eyes widened in shock at the thought of someone not being able to recognize the Duke yet, after a glance around, he began to chuckle softly. It was no wonder that a stranger did not recognize this motley crew as a noble and his entourage as their once fine clothing was now burnt and a few such as himself were injured from the flames. As usual, Tasul'i was not behaving as was proper for a man of his upbringing and certainly was not what one expected when meeting a Duke.

"Aye, I can understand thy confusion. The Duke is not at his best right now. The youngster with flaming locks is the young noble, do not judge him by the condition of his clothes. His companions include the elf with the strange hair, the fiesty thief inspecting yonder halfling, and the docile maid standing by her."

Tasul'i

As his foot descended toward its intended victim, the thief crouching nearby stood in a way to nudge him with her hips, enough that his kick went wide and missed the halfling entirely. Regaining his balance, the young noble glared at the woman foolish enough to intervene. Not only did she dare to yet again touch his royal person, she also protected the wee one from his wrath. For such insolence, she deserved nothing less than a few months in the dungeon yet without guards nearby to assist him, Tasul'i was forced to punish her himself.

"Filthy whore! If your desire to touch me is so great, then I shall touch you in every way possible. One such as yourself should be accustomed to grunting beneath a man of wealth."

Stepping toward the thief, he reached out to wrap his arms around her waist, intending to throw her to the cobblestones and force himself upon her. It mattered not that his foul deed would have an audience as his anger was focused solely upon the half elf.

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Luca the Thief
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« Reply #43 on: February 24, 2006, 10:07:23 AM »

Luca relaxed her legs to bend at the knees and dug the balls of her feet into the pavement, resisting Tasuli's advance without making too much of a struggle. Her eyes were wide, though her lower lids were tense with irritation. The boy was crossing line after line and the half-elf's patience was falling thin.

"Filthy whore! If your desire to touch me is so great, then I shall touch you in every way possible. One such as yourself should be accustomed to grunting beneath a man of wealth."

There was a pause and Luca's eyes narrowed dangerously to a point that even Pick's attention was pulled for a moment, the crimson eagle ceasing in it's botheration of Yarg and looking up at Luca in concern. And then she laughed.

Luca's pink lips curled cruelly at the tips in a malicious smirk, a slight chortle escaping her. The smile persued as a rich peeling laugh rippled from her throat, Luca forgetting about Tasuli's aggression in her mirth. "Y-you... you!?" she could barely manage, pressing a hand to his chest and giving the duke a little shove backwards. "Go and play with your toys, boy... you're no man. You're a child! A plaything not near worth my time. Get on, you've places to go," Luca said, cocking her head to the side and leaning in on him as the half-elf put him down, "Mayhaps the day you lay with a real woman, and even one of questionable taste, as it may seem, you'll learn what it's like to be this 'man of wealth' you so aspire to be. Until then, boy, you are no greater than a lass half your age." Her convultions had stopped and Luca's brows had come together with a stern examination of the half-elf before her, dripping with a tone so serious it made her last words cut.


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Tasuli Rose
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« Reply #44 on: February 27, 2006, 02:47:23 PM »

As the thief’s words reached his ears, Tasul’i flushed a deeper shade of crimson with each passing moment, his lips curling into a grimace. Rage faded into embarrassment as the half elf easily evaded his advances. Stumbling backward from the shove, he scowled as he was humbled before the commoners. For a moment, the thought of vengeance lurked within his mind, yet he feared more humiliation, not wishing to appear any more foolish than he already did. Revenge would have to wait a while longer until he was alone with the thief and sure of his success. Even he did not know the form his revenge would take, unable to predict his own thoughts and actions.

Accepting the humiliation for now, he turned from the half elf, cursing under his breath so that she would not hear him. Never would he admit it to himself, but he found himself fearing the lash of her tongue as it cut deeply into the mind of one already insecure. Before stalking away in shame, one final act of rebellion occurred to him. Pushing past the thief, he approached the halfling mage once more, pausing by his side as the Duke spit into his face, once again acting with manners less than proper for one of his upbringing.

Striding with purpose through the crowd, not seeming to notice as the crowd parted before him, Tasul’i stalked off in the direction in which his horse had fled. Once again, he did not pause to call out to his companions or ascertain that they were following him. The condition of the shops and houses slowly worsened, wooden homes becoming more common than those of stone, as he approached the outskirts of the city.

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