Chapter I: Nyermersys

[Calron Moonsilver]

When the gruff man from before began to speak, it snapped Calron from the strange trance the woman had put him under. It was a strange feeling, almost as if he'd had some sort of buzz occurring beneath his very skin. From his vantage point he could see the man talking with the elf and those that had gathered near by. In relative silence he listened to the man's tale, broken only by the sound of his own breathing and the whimpers that came from Movash's pet.

As the man finished, another voice called out that the people in the square should return to the tavern. For a moment he'd forgotten the woman whom he'd just spoken too, and at this point turned around to address her once again. Slowly she had begun to take some steps backwards, but just as quickly her eyes rolled and she pitched forward. Sensing her movement before she feel, he stepped in quickly and caught her before she could fall to the floor. Taking her, he laid her gently on the ground, and in the moonlight she seemed to him all the more fair and sweet. It was then that he noticed the wound upon her side, and with the remainder of his jacket he bound up her wounds as best he could without jostling her around to much.

He then returned to Movash, and his pet offering to help them into Cloud's saddle. "It'll be easier to keep track of you two if we all stay together," he said to the boy gesturing for him to climb onto Cloud's sturdy back. At his master's commands, the horse lowered itself onto it's haunches, and waited for the boy and dog to board. Picking up the injured lady, Calron maneuvered her onto his back, and standing up began to walk in the general direction of the tavern. He was rattled, but his brain was still relatively clear, and despite the darkness he could more or less recall which way the tavern was. Had he more hands, or another horse he would have offered to carry still more of the injured, but as it was he'd already taken as much as he could, quite literally, carry.

[Movash]

Humbaba looked at the huge horse with evident scepticism. Movash, eager to follow the master's wish, only got his limping underwhelp to even go near Cloud by half dragging, half shoving her along. The master scared Movash a little. He always knew what he wanted, and was always confident that other people would do as he told them. And the way he lifted the injured lady onto his back showed that if others did not act on his behalf, he was well capable of taking care of things on his own. He must be very strong, Movash thought. It would not be easy to satisfy him.

Cloud had lowered himself, but still he looked like a mountain to Movash and Humbaba, whose bodies were stooping and hunched from exhaustion. On Cloud's back there half sat, half hung the body of the gaunt little man who could fight fireballs. He had not spoken since he had called for help. Right now, Movash could not see him move. Was he even breathing? Carefully, gently, using the fingertips of his left hand, Movash prodded the man's shoulder. He wanted to make sure the man was alive; he did not feel like sharing a saddle with a corpse. Next to Movash, Humbaba was still. She had not uttered a sound since she had escaped from underneath the giant rat. She turned her nose in the direction of the limp figure in the horse's saddle, sniffing noiselessly. She, too, was trying to find out whether the man was dead.

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Gurrant looked at the people around him.  Perhaps it was his wound making him light headed, but looking at them, and how they had fought against what ever evil they had been subjected to from the Pest Pillar.  The very facty that thisa happened put Gurrant ill at ease.  Could this mean that Caeltakker was closer to coming back?  In what form?

He grimaced as a sharp pain ran through the fresh stitches on his head.  This only served to confirm that he was goiing to need help if he was to stop Caeltakker.  If this episode was an audition for a job helping him, these people passed.

" 'ey.  If'n ahm gonna go after Caeltakker, then ahm gonna need 'elp.  If'n this is what 'appens 'ere, then ah 'spect it's gonna be a lot 'arder the closer we gets ta Caeltakker Keep.  Ah would be might obliged ifn some of you would 'elp me and join me on my journey there.  If'n Caeltakker makes good on 'is word, and the rumours are true, tis gonna be much worse that what we saw 'ere tanight."

[Seh'nara Celebrindal]

Seh'nara raised her head from its furry resting palace. She had taking time - perhaps, too much time - in composing herself, and in that period, her strength had returned. Not as much as it was before the midnight ordeal, but enough for her to rise to her feet, a quick snap of her fingers bringing Silver to heel. The night shone down on the now silent plaza, and as the lass breathed in the coppery air, she listened intently at the tale the drunk was weaving.

She had not moved one step from her spot, however. Instead, her emerald orbs observed the rag-tag group. They had already seemed to form some sort of mini-alliance between themselves - bonds forged in the heat of battle. The nobleman had his little apprentice by his side, as well as an unconscious... Kari-ii, it seemed, craddled in his arms. On his majestic horse was flopped another casualty of battle - the firemage that she saw earlier. And the most unsettling of all, some sort of wolf-dog-shadow creature that accompanied the mute half-fey. It was something she had never seen before, and it was with a sigh that she realised Silver would not play nicely with that particular pet. Off to the side, the guard who had earlier been making suggestions, had fallen silent. And the dwarf and the orc, both had at least a passing aquaintance with each other - it was evident in their whispered exchange.

The drunk was the worst of them all, however. He fled in battle, was both obnoixious and arrogant, and now, expected them all to follow him in battle against some terrible supernatural horror. Which was, Seh was certain, led and controlled by the Goddess of Death herself. Her dislike for the human deepened with each second, and with each word he spoke. But still, evil was evil, and she might as well see the tale through. Narrowing her eyes, Seh'nara walked forwards to the group.

"I'll join you." The statement was simple and to the point. She was too tired to question the human's real motive - after all, this was the very man who fled for his life in the battle. Why would he suddenly be so eagar to run headlong to disaster? Perhaps, some sort of ancestral connection to this... Caeltakker? She didn't know, but she resolved to find out as soon as she could.

~

Back in the tavern, Seh'nara sank down into the warm water of her bath. She had escaped the battle with nothing more than minor scratches, nothing that some salve wouldn't fix. Tomorrow would be the next step of this horror story she had been dragged into. Hopefully, the end of the tale wouldn't see her dead.

[Thorgas Ironforge]

The dwarf turned around and walked away from the crowd, towards the direction of the inn. He had enough of all this dangers to last him for a while, and risking his neck just to save a non-dwarf town from impending catastrophe is not a very good motivator. The gruff man's request for accompaniment is not acceptable. Although he can't hold himself very well in a fight, he's large and brutish. For the dwarf it's enough to get to the keep alive. What he wanted to do to this Caeltakker though, is another story. Before long he sighted the familiar creaking sign of the inn and not far from it is the stables. He led Buri inside, placed a few fruits in his trough along with his mush and poured a bucket of water into another. He tossed some hay into his stall, making sure he's warm and comfortable for the evening, and left the building.

He stepped through the doors of the tavern and stopped by the bar to order a pitcher of beer and a mug. The dwarf then went straight to the room he rented, pulled a chair and placed it beside a window, and poured himself a mug of the brown liquid. He's going to need some heavy drinking in order to temporarily forget the events that happened that night and to get a good sleep. He emptied the mug in one glup and poured himself another. After emptying it as fast as the first one he decided to lay mug on the table and drink from the pitcher instead. Nobody's going to see him do it anyway. No reason to be afraid that someone will find it offensive or disgusting.

A few mouthfuls later, he finally finished his drink. He went to the washroom for a bath, and promptly came out in his favorite dwarf pajamas, the one with little printed beer mugs. He went to the bed and sat down, thinking about the story of the burly man before sleeping. Then he thought of something. What if that Caeltakker has a library in that keep, complete with tomes, books, and scrolls of magic? That loot would be invaluable for the mages of Kor Mithrid!

It's decided then. Tomorrow he's going to join the party to the keep. But first he has to get some sleep.

[Garth Avery]

Mouse stood quietly by as the man's story unfolded. One elfess offered her assistance, others turned away without saying anything. He wasn't sure if that meant they weren't going to help, or if they just had not decided yet. He wasn't sure himself what he should do. He wanted to help, but he also remembered his flight from the rats, so he was not sure what he would be able to do. Still, someone as evil as this Caeltakker person should not be allowed to come back. There must be something he could do, even if he was next to useless in battle situations. No matter that he really disliked the person who was supposed to be leading them.

Having taken his decision, he nodded at the man. "For whatever it's worth, I will join you." he said. Then he turned away and made his waddling way towards the tavern. There was still the problem of Pepik, of course. She could be anywhere right now, and he should find her before he went back inside. Luck seemed to be with him today, however, as he found her standing near the tavern's stables - the last place where she had been where she had felt safe. Purely out of joy, Mouse laughed out loud, and at the sound of his voice she came to meet him, though with a reproachful look in her eyes. It was almost like she knew he was going to lead her into danger again. Still, he hoped there would not be anything quite so dangerous as giant rats and fireballs in the near future.

He rubbed her nose for a while to placate her, and then he stabled her, before heading to bed himself. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

[Roy Tmofl]

He was fading fast. Yet he always repaid his debts. He knew that these people deserved a sign of graditude and of course he must find a way to help them if he could.

But for now this would do. He turned his head to face the young boy who had heard him and even perhaps his master. He did not know he could not see.

"Thank you."

Then he lost conciousness. For the third time this night. Which could not be healthy.

[Ridgen Sú'ufanán]

Adventure equals fun.

That was what the light-haired elf had learnt in the few hundred years of his existence. Life was boring without fun. When boredom strikes, one has nothing to do. And when one has nothing to do, one merely wastes the rest of one's life away, until something exciting comes along to relieve that boredom. Therefore, in a twisted sense of logic, the key to not wasting one's life - and in effect, the meaning of life - was adventure. Fun. The whole lot. So when the story of Caeltakker was loose in the air around - the story that practically screamed 'Danger!' and 'Adventure!' in every way - and when their situation was now so very apparent, Ridgen has already decided one thing - he was going to go along to wherever this would take them, even if it was only for the sake of it.

"Very well, I'll join you in your uh... search. Journey. Whatever. Seems like you could use my help, anyway." The elf's good eye scanned over the remainder of the survivors - his would-be companions, if they agreed to go. He could only recognise five, creatures excluded, and of those five, a mere two by name. There was that nobleman/really posh, overdramatic person that claimed to be a knight, and his new squire(?), the mute thief. Then there was the Ka'rii that saved them tonnes of trouble by slaughtering the brunt of them giant rats - probably their most able fighter. Then there was the dwarven mage, mister Thorgas from the Kann (who Ridgen desperately hoped did not recognise him, for fear of being declared crazy or something) and another fire mage, Roy Tmolf - Ridgen wasn't sure what he thought of the guy, but they've been through a number of things together, so he could trust that pale mage. Sort of.

"I dunno 'bout you guys but I'm going to go grab myself some shuteye. I'll see you's in the mornin'."

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Gurrant listened to the few acceptances to his offer.  But while he listened, he watched the back of the huge warrior as he walked away.  This man didn't understand the stakes that were at risk.  Or didn't care.

" 'eh!  You there.  Big guy.  Ain't ya got no in'erest in what's a gonna 'appen?"

Gurrant took a few steps in the direction of the hulking warrior.  He raised his voice even more.

"If'n ya dunna care 'bout yer fellow man, 'ow 'bout gold?"  Gurrant turned his head a moment to look back at the others to ensure they too heard.

"I 'appen ta know that there be gold where we're goin'.  Ya think comin' back from the dead and buildin' an army dunna cost a pretty san or two?  I dunna care for none of it, I jus' want the bastard ta stay cold.  Anything o' value we find, you all canna split between and betwixt ya."

[Warrior Kaelan]

Kaelan stopped walking, withdrew the pace he'd been in the middle of making, and slowly turned only his upper body to face the beaten drunkard, brows furrowed in what could have been angry distaste, or deep thought.  Money. At least enough to make back what he'd left on Kret's body. And it wasn't like he needed to come back to Nyermersys when it was all through. He finally nodded, a single, slow gesture, and after another brief pause, thinking thoroughly, replied, "Meet you outside of town."

He continued on his path. Staying at the inn tonight would be suicide anyway, and it would be pretty well impossible to miss a party like this one promised to be outside the gates. Just keep one eye open and sleep in the brush. Wouldn't be his worst night ever.

[Manik Targin]

Manik didnt understand, had he even spoken? No one was moving the wounded where he suggested. No one was getting torches. No one even voiced acceptance of his offer of a surgeon. He thought of exclaiming these points again but in a parade ground bark, that would surely get them moving. He thought of it but decided not to. If they didnt want order and help then that was their choice, he would do what he could.

One man in nice clothes was ripping up his jacket to bind wounds. And loading up he walked away carrying wounded himself and on his horse. Manik started walking towards the small company. He would offer again, why would the man not want the surgeon? Perhaps he hadn't heard?

Manik had only taken a couple steps though when he heard a groan from across the square. His head snapped around and he listened. He could hear the bearded man requesting help taking down this Caelttakker. He even heard people agree to help. Help they had not agreed to give when he had made his suggestions. He for the most part paid it no mind, he was listening for the source of the groan. And then he heard it again and he was running across the square scouring the shadows. His boots were loud on the cobblestone and he cursed them while trying to perk his ears to any sound. Another low grumble and it was close. He dropped to his knees by the bundle of debris that had made the sound. In the darkness he strained his eyes and his heart gave a jump of elation. It was Redrik! And the form groaned again so he was alive! He played his hands quickly over the form trying to assess how injured Redrik was. It wasnt good. There was a lot of blood and his breathing was shallow but laboured. "Redrik. You poor bastard, Redrik," Manik whispered frantically. He pulled off his cloak and draped it over Redrik. Keeping him warm was all he knew to do, his wounds were too extensive to do anything about in the dark. Manik spun around and yelled into the dark, "Help, someone come and help!" Now that he was facing into the square he noticed two laterns, and that two figures holding them were coming towards him.

]"Sarge! Hey what in Coor's cold cock 'appened here? Are those corpses...of....giant rats?" It was Ivar, a guard of Manik's squad. And the other figure was Ivar's partner for the night watch Burly Pete.

"Thank the Gods for you two! Redrik is seriously injured. Burly Pete I need you to go get help from the garrison. Ivar you stay here with that light and we'll see if we can help Redrik some," ordered Manik.
Burly Pete held out his latern over Redrik and Manik heard both of the men's breath intake. The light cast by the latern only made it obvious how bad Redrik was doing. His face was pale and there was a puddle of blood extending out from under Manik's cloak. "Right Sarge," breathed Burly Pete, "I'll be back wit help." And Manik watched Pete turn and start a quick stride south to the garrison. He also noticed most of the civilians had left the square, oh well, he would have to deal with that later.

Manik turned back to Redrik and Ivar leaned over with the lantern. Manik lifted his cloak enough to get a look at the damage. It was'nt good. "Stay with us Redrik, you got those devil spawn to look after, no quitting yet for you Private," said Manik to Redrik's still form, and he prepared to start bandaging him up a bit now that he had the light to do so. Manik's fear for his friend kept him from feeling the biting night wind. He realized he had forgotten to tell Burly Pete what help to bring. He wanted at least two squads and the surgeon. One for clean up and control and one to question the civilians about what happened. Oh well. Help was coming, and he would do his best for his soldier; he would do his best for his friend.

Advanced search

[Members]

Members Total Members: 2850 Latest: thediscountcodes Stats Total Posts: 214570 Total Topics: 8053 Online Today: 30 Online Ever: 216 (November 30, 2006, 09:08:03 AM) Users Online Users: 0 Guests: 28 Total: 28

[Artimidor]

	Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2005, Simple Machines TinyPortal v0.9.8 © Bloc
Theme based on Cerberus with Risen adjustments by Bloc and Krelia Modified By Artimidor for The Santharian Dream