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Author Topic: Chapter I - In Search of a Druid  (Read 23000 times)
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Menweh Reolláolásh’miés
Wind Caller
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Elf, Ylfferhim


« Reply #105 on: February 14, 2009, 05:14:32 PM »

Menweh held her chin while her thoughts focus around the idea of learning dwarvish culture. The very idea was exciting! He could maybe even teach her their language. She smiled inwardly at the thought. When she had gathered her thoughts into one coherent line she heard words announcing the even tide meal. Her belly rumbled a bit at thought thought of a meal. It was a very exciting prospect. She imagined a nice dinner conversing with the dwarf who would tell her all sorts of interesting tidbits about his cultures, his land, his gods. Everything!

The key word there was imagined.

No sooner than she had gotten prepared to breathe and ask the dwarf to come and join them, did she have an axe pointed in her direction. Right between her eyes in fact.. She felt the rush of air that followed the dwarf's axe. The dwarf then growled, more at her than anyone else it seemed.

How could he see her? His eyes seemed focused on her. Then as her eyes quickly scanned up and down him, she saw something that made her curse her own curiosity and desire to study and observe.

Her spell had faded.

"In the name of Trum-Barol, who are you people? And why are you here? If you bunch of witches intend to kill me now, then do so. Don't toy with me any longer! Explain your business here, and let me go on my way. If you aren't what you seem, just let me have some food and explain what's going on here. But if you are the pack of lying witches that I think you must be, then I will die in a manner worthy of the Stone Father."

Menweh watched as his axe rose, and she muttered a particularly foul word that sailors were fond of loud enough for the dwarf to hear her. How stupid was she? How could she have her magic fade? Her thoughts began spin about. She was really too young to die. No really, she was. Besides wasn't he overacting just a tad? The axe being raised was not going to go over well with the other members of the party. She quickly collected herself, it wasn't like her to fall to pieces like this.

"Now would be the best time to speak up Menweh," She thought, that rising axe would have to come down sometime, and it would be sooner rather than later. So with that in mind the wizardess forced her eyes from the axe to met the dwarf's eyes,"Sir," She began shakily,"to answer your questions, we are not a coven of witches. We are merely a band of adventures who wish to help Lady Irid, that would be her, " Menweh indicated their leader by the fire, while taking a small step backward. She wanted to get as far away as she could, " She has a curse on her that she desires to have removed. We only know of one person, a druid, that might be able to help us. We, as you can see we were just about to have some dinner. I think it wise that we should all fill our stomachs with good food. After that we may talk more. Please kind sir, lower your weapon, there is no use for violence and you have my vow to Grothar that none of us are witches and that none of us wish you hexed, dead or otherwise. Join us for a meal, emotions do not run as high with food to weigh them down."

Menweh hoped that he would see reason. Of course there had been bussle in the grove, after all it was dinner time and people wanted to rest, " Sir, please?" She asked him one more time. Hoping against hope that he'd lower his axe in a gentle manner and not swing at her.
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Irid alMenie
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Elf, Quaelhoirhim


« Reply #106 on: February 16, 2009, 05:51:17 AM »

Irid passed her hand before her eyes again, as if she was very tired. Then she answered Ruka: 'The dwarf had nothing to do with it, I assure you.' She was secretly surprised at Ruka's assessment of the bearded man's race, but then perhaps she shouldn't be. After all, he might be tall for a dwarf, but he still had enough of the signs about him that should have made her realise his race.

His sudden demand that he get some explanations, 'in the name of Trum-Barol', drew her attention back to the subject of her thoughts, confirming Ruka's assessment of his race. He was threatening Menweh as he made his demands. Irid could not help but admire the cool way in which the victim answered, considering that there was an axe held very close to her and obviously ready to strike. The firelight glinted in the metal of the axe head, while all around them the air darkened rapidly with the approach of evening. Taking her cue from Menweh herself, Irid continued the story.

'I would appreciate it if you did not threaten the members of my party, dwarf. Let me just remind you that it was you who stumbled into our camp, not the other way around. You are also somewhat in a minority, so I would not wave that axe around too much if I were you.' It was not a threat, it was a simple statement of facts.

'However, to answer your question, perhaps somewhat more fully than Menweh as done, my name is Irid alMenie. The curse that was spoken of just now is one that I still do not comprehend quite clearly, but I do know what it does to me. Every now and then, I start showing the same behaviour as a wolf. I never know when it will happen, and when it does I never remember it afterwards. I repeat this information now, since it seems that some people in the party seem to have forgotten it, even though I spoke of this only this morning.' She glanced at Ruka for a moment.

'If I remember correctly, this morning I said something along the lines that I sometimes acted wolfy, and if anyone had a problem with that they should leave before our quest started. Nobody left at that point, although two of our party seem to have been left behind, and I worry about them. The reason I gathered a party is that I have heard that druids know a lot about nature and animals, and I would like to find someone who can remove this curse from me, or at least explain to me why I have it. However, they are very hard to find, and should I turn wolfy in the search, I would most certainly not succeed.

If this is explanation enough, then please sit down and have something to eat. Rest assured that we are not in the habit of randomly killing innocent people, whichever race they are from, even if we have only just met this morning. As the leader of this party, I will vouch for that.' With these words, Irid went over to where the twins had placed their dinner and availed herself of some of the salad. Then she sat down cross-legged on the ground, and continued. 'If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask them, and we will answer them as best we can. After that, we should get some sleep, tomorrow will be an early start for us. If you don't mind sleeping on the ground too much, you're welcome to share our fire for the night.'
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Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.
Irid al'Menie
The Illiana Twins
Traveling Kitchen
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« Reply #107 on: March 08, 2009, 02:36:34 AM »

Xanth and Xander froze as the dwarf shouted a threat at Menweh. Xander’s instincts immediately made the mental change into knight-in-shining-armour mode, pushing him to his feet. Even without thinking, his hands flew to his bow, drawing and nocking an arrow. The steel tip glinted in the setting sun, its path aimed right at the dwarf’s – the threat’s – heart.

His sister’s reflexes were good enough too. She, unlike her brother, didn’t feel the need to protect the frightened Menweh. However, she did feel the need to stop her brother from doing something stupid. More specifically, she didn’t want the dwarf to feel more threatened than he already was. Desperate people do desperate things, and letting go of lethal looking axes on defenceless elves is very high on the list. Unfortunately, an arrow aimed at your heart makes one desperate, she thought wryly.

Her hands shot out, grasping her twin’s arm in a vice-like grip. “Brother. Don’t scare the scared,” she muttered, quoting her brother's hunting motto. “Treat the dwarf like prey. You don’t scare them more than you have to. Else they’ll scuttle… or attack.” Slowly, Xander relaxed, the arrow lowering steadily. He still kept it drawn though; his gentlemanly instincts did not allow him to do anything else.

Both twins gazed silently as the scene played out before them; one tense, one impassive, but both ready for a fight.
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Rukaqua
Brashy Bladeswoman
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Human, Serpherlorian


« Reply #108 on: March 09, 2009, 09:29:40 PM »

The dwarf had nothing to do with it?  What in the name of something she probably shouldn't swear by could be the problem then?  Ruka blinked in incomprehension, waiting politely for a further explanation which didn't come.  Instead, they were interrupted by the dulcet tones of the new dwarf, yelling something about tromball?  A strange sport maybe?  Ruka rushed towards the sound, after Irid, without wondering too much about it.  The dwarf had not only not left his weapon at the edge of the camp, but was now using it to threaten the lovely mage, Menweh.  Ruka stopped herself short just near the fire, not wanting to aggravate a short-arse with an axe.

Menweh actually seemed to be handling the situation very well.  She retained her calm and spoke to her attacker without panicking or screaming, both of which would have been understandable reactions.  The twins sprung into defence too, one of them drawing his bow in readiness encase the dwarf did make good on his threat.  It was great to see everyone so willing and eager to protect one another really, as if even this short day had made them into some kind of team.

Irid and Menweh’s words seemed sufficient to Ruka, there was no need to add her own, probably cruder, message.  However, reminding him of her presence wouldn’t go amiss, especially if he thought he could get away with threatening any of their party.  Improvising on the spot, Ruka picked up a piece of meat from the plate by the fire, and lobbed it straight at the dwarf, yelling “Dinner Time!” as she did it.  Then, taking a piece herself, the warrior woman sat down on a convenient rock, biting into the meat with exaggerated ease.

~~~~~~~~

As the weary group finished their meal, the sun began to dip behind the trees and the light lessened until the fire cast flickering shadows across the clearing.  Ruka had, in her typically open way, volunteered many stories of her times as a body guard and in the Serphelorian Army too.  The funny ones rather than the bloodthirsty ones in most parts, although of course there was some overlap between the two.  Ruka thought back…yeah…a little overlap.  But now the sun was setting and it was time to sleep if they wanted to be up and moving with the morning light.  The warrior woman offered to take first watch, and settled herself down by the glowing embers to wait out the first portion of the night.
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Morden Peshirgolz
The Mystic Voice
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« Reply #109 on: March 09, 2009, 10:53:06 PM »

Morden listened carefully to the calm explanation of the elf he had threatened a moment ago. Her words were quickly followed by the voice of the golden-eyed elf. Their words were calm, and they did not seem to wish him any harm, a reaction he really had not expected. From a lady who he thought to be a sorceress he would have expected hostility, and Morden had already been prepared for a fight after the strange reaction he provoked upon his entrance into the clearing. How confusing this was! Morden began to lower his axe slowly to the ground. He was exhausted from his day's travel, and his back was beginning to ache. His head was pounding again, and now it seemed that fighting would accomplish him nothing. Either these were a bunch of harmless maniacs, or they simply wished to torture him later. One way or the other, Morden's axe wasn't going to get him anywhere here, and that dinner was smelling increasingly better as Morden's hunger increased. Perhaps it was time to quiet down and attempt to pass the night peacefully.

"Dinner Time!"

Suddenly Morden could smell the dinner very, VERY clearly. In fact, he could taste it too as the grease from the piece of meat that had just smacked him in the eye slowly trickled down his face. The sullen dwarf stared down at the dirtied food lying on the ground, feeling enraged by this lack of respect. And from a fellow warrior, someone who should have respected his dignity! Why, he had lived already a much longer life than she had, and probably fought in many more battles. Certainly he had the greater share of scars and injuries, so how did he deserve this kind of treatment.

Morden meditated over every curse in his vocabulary for a few moments as the grease reached his beard. If that's the way these ladies wanted it, then fine. Besides, that male elf now had his bow drawn and aimed right at Morden's heart. Fighting quickly lost all its appeal for the moment. Morden turned to the edge of the clearing and set his axe down along with his pack of things. He then turned and picked up the chunk of meat that had been thrown at him, seating himself a few peds away from the fire. He made sure that he faced the giantess, so that he could glare at her for the duration of the meal.

As he continued his one-sided staring contest, munching on his quickly cooling meat, the giantess regaled the group with stories of her military exploits. Morden regained a small measure of respect for her achievements, though he would have to get back at her sometime for her arrogance. Oh well, who cared right now? Morden was nearly asleep already with fatigue, and his head was nodding where he sat. As the throbbing of his mind subsided slightly, the words of the golden-eyed returned to him. In search of a druid they were, a story which might explain their strangeness. If these people had anything to do with magic, of course they would be a little strange. Magic was not something for a simple hill dwarf like Morden, but maybe tagging along with them might be a good idea, just to see what they were up to. He might find that orc he had been looking for, or that thief who had stolen his baroomith. Ah, more thinking would have to wait 'til morning, he was too tired now. Morden continued to stare ahead into the fire as the group made ready for the night.
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Menweh Reolláolásh’miés
Wind Caller
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Elf, Ylfferhim


« Reply #110 on: March 12, 2009, 10:45:10 AM »

Menweh used the last of the dying embers to heat up some tea, taking a pair of small cups and a rag from her bags hanging on her horse. She was glad she had bought the metal cups from a trader a fort night ago. She set the cups over the embers and poured some of the golden green liquid from her wineskin into them.

It took a few minutes, but when the liquid in them just began to steam she lifted one off of embers and used the cloth to guard her hand from the heat. Slowly, as to not spill any, and because she needed to use her staff so she could walk. The pain was welling up again.  She slowly made her way to the dwarf.

When she got over to him she placed the cup near him and speaking softly, her musical accent lilting over her words, " You look like you might need some. It'll take the pain away," She looked at him with eyes that still seemed to sparkle in the dark, "Tomorrow will be better, it always is." She smiled as she hoisted her self back up. She limped over to her horse and pulled out a bed roll and blanket.

various linens under one arm, staff in the other she hobbled over to Ruka. Once there she lay her burden down and hobbled back to her tea, which was now quite hot. Menweh chuckled to her self, at least her tea would not be too cold now like it was when she had it in the mornings. scooping up some of the ashes around the fire, she let them fall from her hand as she summoned a soft breeze to cool her cup a small bit, just enough so she could handle the metal through the cloth.

The effect took a few minutes, as the wind slowly picked up, a rather chilly wind. A few near dead embers danced in the wind as the last of their inner flames died in the gust. Soon she judged the cup cool enough to handle. She picked it up and hobbled to her bed, near Ruka. She set the cup down on the ground and rolled out her bed. She sat down and pulled the blanket up on her legs as she rested her back against the tree. She then wrapped the cloth around the cup and waited as the fragrant steam wafted up into her nose. She sighed contently. This was almost as wonderful as her fathers ship. She had missed having the stars above her, "Ruka," She asked her in a soft and melodic tone, "You are a very humorous storyteller. Will you be telling more tomorrow night?" Menweh sipped her tea. It took her a while but she eventually drained the entire cup listening to the night song of crickets and owls. It was a beautiful night, she thought with a yawn as she set her cup down she snuggled into her blanket and with no pain in her leg, she fell into sleep.
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Irid alMenie
Wolf-Lady
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Elf, Quaelhoirhim


« Reply #111 on: March 16, 2009, 05:29:28 AM »

Irid glanced briefly, somewhat reproachfully, at Ruka when she very unceremoniously threw food at the dwarf. However, he seemed to have accepted their explanation, and if he was offended by Ruka's action, at least he accepted the food. After the dinner, there was some quiet talk around the campfire, but soon people were starting to roll into their blankets. Irid was the last to stay awake, staring into the dying flames, which reflected in her golden eyes. She didn't think here, only a day's ride from New-Santhala, a watch was necessary yet, so after a while she got up as well, banked the fire somewhat so that they could easily revive it in the morning, and rolled up into her blanket.

She did not sleep too well. Though she was fast asleep for the whole night, her dreams were vivid and strange. They were mostly disconnected images that flashed by in rapid succession, without a chance of determining what it was she saw. She was also, in the course of the dream, swarmed by so many emotions that she had no idea what it was she was feeling. Only by morning, when the first birds started singing their sweet song and the black of night made way for the grey of dawn, did she quieten down enough that she no longer tossed and turned. When she woke, she remembered nothing of her dreams.
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Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.
Irid al'Menie
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