NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC - Ok here is the deal. There is no outline of a plot, it can be whatever you turn it into. But please think before you post, and for Pete's sake use a spell check. - OOC

IC - Jonny wandered through the desert alone, his sword dragging and slicing the sand beneath him. A mix of sweat and blood was falling from his forehead, and he was staggering.

Where am I? He asked himself as he walked on, not knowing where he had come from or where he was going, but for some reason knowing not to stop and hang about for long.

OCC-Kinda lax on the information there, bud. I'm assuming this is some sort of fantasy or past tech thing. I might as well give it a shot.

IC:A pair of large, green eyes watched the large figure plod through the vast desert from the top of a large dune behind the man. The eyes followed the man for some distance, narrowed, then vanished. A figure emerged from the top of the dune and stealthily followed the man, careful not to get to close in case he was heard.

OOC: Still looks purrty interestin'...I'll go with a less serious character than usual...
IC:

Larenz O Kinlaigh plopped down on his rump into the desert at the top of a high dune. The setting sun in the distant turned the sky into a beautiful display of color as a single puff of pink cloud snailed its way across the evening sky. The young Bard named Larenz wiped sweat from his brow as he laughed, looking at the two and half foot sword in his hand, the sword he had just finished practicing with; as every traveling Bard needed to know how to defend himself. (Or encourage the audience to give him is hard earned pay...) He glanced up at his horse. The stallion was deep brown, with a small patch of white in between the eyes that ran down from the brow to the tip of the nose. Over the horse’s back was a saddle and different bags hanging over the back, each containing food, water, or a blanket.

"Cathal, ole boy," Larenz said cheerfully, addressing his stallion as he took a swig from an animal skin canteen. “We’ll reach a town or something soon, then we can get some more to eat, some more gold to spend, and then…Then we can explore the world some more and find some new towns and new audiences, like Kings….or maybe even an Emperor!”

He laughed again and held the canteen towards Cathal’s mouth, and the horse lifted the canteen in its mouth as it gulped down water before dropping it into the sand.

Larenz leaned back against his own pack and threw a bundle of twigs into the fire before him. He reached behind him into his pack and pulled a flute from one of the pockets and began to play an old tune that was popular in pubs as he looked into the flames.

Jonny saw a fire in the distance, and went towards it, perhaps he would find an answer to his questions there. As he got close he heard familiar music being played. He sped up when he heard it. As he turned round a dune he saw a man and a horse standing there. He approached them.

Larenz stopped playing when he caught sight of the man. He looked at him for a moment. Now if that isn't a sorry sight... He thought. Wonder what in the Hells happened to him...

He stood up and patted the sand of his pant legs. " 'Ello there," said Larenz. "What happened to you? Looks like you got robbed or something." He leaned over to pick up the canteen of his laying the sand, while at the same time he slipped a dagger under his sleeve. Can't be too careful...

" 'ere, have a drink," Larenz held the canteen out to the stranger cheerfully. Gods, he got the snot beaten outta him, whatever happened...

((OOC: Looks different. What the heck, I'll give it a try.))
IC:

Cardinal Jacob MacBride was a busy man, tyding up his seaside abbey and cleaning up after the messy clerics that saw nothing better to annoy him by leaving their quills and doodled parchment lying about. If one of them produced a decent page of scripture once in a while, Jacob would choose a saint and thank him. It's not like their job was terribly important, there wasn't a villiage within miles of here so it's not like there was anyone to make the bibles for other than the occasional traveler, which were so occasional and usually so anti-religious that Jacob had to hold his tongue about their firey fate in the afterlife while they partook of the food and drink he was obligated to offer them by the lord's grace. It's not as if he didn't enjoy their company, he just had to keep himself in check.

He stopped shuffling papers for a moment. He could've sworn he heard a flute play. Couldn't have been less than half a mile away, but the night outside was black as pitch. Travelers would have to keep out of the sea by listening for it. Nevertheless, he turned to gaze out the window and saw two black figures standing around firelight less than a quarter of a mile away. He didn't know how they could've missed the shape of the abbey from such a short distance until he realized he didn't wake up to tidy the place until but fifteen minutes ago, and all the lamps were snuffed before then. The travelers must've made their fire before he awoke.

Strapping on his traditional sandals, he decided to venture outside and greet the travelers. Even the theives in this area had the decency to respect a man of the cloth, even though none would ever actually listen to him, so he saw no real danger in venturing beyond the walls of the abbey. Lighting an ancient kerosene lamp, he exited the large front door of the abbey and walked down the beach towards the two men.

A cloaked figure plunged down the dirt road of this barren land. His clothing was simple, a grey robe that covered him from head to toe, hiding all distinguishing aspects. This is the way Izual liked it, since there were those mortals that had a certain ability for recognising his kind. Behind the cloaked figure, a large man lay unconscious, his arms and legs bound in chain. This man was at least twice the size of Izual, and yet he dragged the hulking brute with ease.

Without any fuss, he continued towards where an abbey was supposed to be. Even if Izual had been cast out of the light, he had no problems taking shelter in its mortal world tributes. He considered it safer as the demons were always willing to slit his throat, yet the angels had merely turned their backs on him, not placed a price upon his once angelic head.

Izual noticed a reasonable flame up ahead, two figures standing by it. He didn't particularly care what they were doing, as long as they didn't attempt to rob him. The abbey was now coming into shape, thanks to several candle lights within the structure. Izual pasused to examine the structure slightly and give the two men a glance before he continued onwards, dragging the brute passed the fire and towards shelter.

Hopefully he would be ignored, otherwise things could get... unnecessarily violent.

"Hello!" Jacob called out in the direction of Izual, "Is anyone there?"
He could've sworn her heard the rustling of chains and the sound of something dragging. Maybe one of the monks was trying to play a trick on him. They were like that, the clerics and the monks, always so carefree. He blamed himself... mostly, he wasn't harsh enough with them when he acted up. If it turned out to be a monk, he made a mental note to paddle him with a plank as soon as they got back to the abbey.

"Who's there?" he said again, without the faintest trace of fear in his voice. If it wasn't a monk, then this would be the most action he had ever seen around these parts in a long while. His eyes shifted back and forth through the darkness, his face illuminated by his faint kerosine lamp.

Jonny refused the drink and looked at the bard closley.

He was about to ask him for information when he noticed a building suddenly light up behind the man. Something about it was familier. He pushed the bard aside and ran towards it.

Jacob heard approaching footsteps, running footsteps.
Great, he thought, An ambush. It just had to be bandits. WHY is it always bandits?
"Look, I'm a man of God," he said without a tremor in his voice, "If you're from around here you know I have nothing of value. If you're bandits, leave me in peace and I'll put you in a good word with the Almighty."

((OOC: Be back later tonight!))

Larenz turned to stare after the strange man. He glanced at his brown stallion.

"Now that was bloody well uncalled for!" he stated. He paused as his eyes caught sight of a building in the distance. Light illuminated windows and a door. "Is that...It's an abbey Cathal! Out here in the desert, of all places. Must be a town or something nearby for it's people to survive out here..."

He looked after the man who had pushed him aside for a moment then knelt and grabbed his pack and slung it over his back. He calmly walked over to his horse and pulled himself up on to the saddle. Larenz slipped the dagger out from under his sleeve and slipped into the sash wrapped around his waist. He sheathed his sword at his hip and grabbed the reins of his horse casually with one hand and shook them. The horse moved forward in an easy trot towards the abbey.

Larenz looked past the strange man from earlier and noticed a man carrying a lamp. A Priest, mabye a bishop? He thought in wonder. He continued the easy trot down the high dune towards the abbey.

"Now wouldn'y it be funny if the stranger and the Holy Man collided head on?" Larenz said to his horse. The stallion let out a 'Nay' and shook its head.

"Ah, of all the horses to come across, I had to pick a Christian." The horse let out a second 'Nay', this time nodding its head. "HA! But we make a pair, eh Cathal? The Druidic bard and the Holy Horse, in the middle of some desert...Wouldn't trade this for anything, except maybe a palace filled with beautiful women..."

The horse let out another, louder 'Nay', and reared up slightly as it trotted along.

Larenz laughed. "Just kidding with you Cathal." He glanced back at the abbey. "Well, let's see if these Holy boys have can give us some directions..."

Jonny heard a man near the newly lit abby shouting out, he knew that voice from somewhere, but where? He ran faster, this man must know something.

Jonny was knocked over by the bard who was now on his horse. Getting up he swore and contiuned on his way.

Izual was about to continue without confronting the man when he pointed out the fact he was a man of god, and therefore the likely caretaker of the abbey. In that case, Izual would have to talk with this one. Turning around, he moved back slightly yet remained in the shadows, out of Jacob's sight. Izual could see him easily due to the lamp and replied with a deep, cold voice.

"I mean you no harm holy man. I am looking for shelter and would appreciate hospitality if you are the one in charge of that abbey..."

The racket of footsteps reached Izual's ears, causing him to turn towards the source and place a hand upon the hilt of his unique blade, hidden beneath the grey cloak. Izual didn't like strangers, especially those that came unannounced. His many, many years upon this world had taught Izual several lessons. Number one being, don't trust anyone.

And so he would wait. Wait for Jacob's answer and whatever this new stranger would bring.

The stealthy figure who had been watching Jonny chuckled at the congrageted assembely. A bard, a hopelessly lost man, and a man of God. This was a sight to see. The only one that was questionable was the grey-robed man.

The figure sighed as they started to make their way to the nearby abbey. The dark shape flitted behind another sand dune and stolled towards the abbey, still keeping out of sight.

Jonny had caught up with the monk. Putting his face forward Jonny asked

"Hello, do I know you?" He continued "er..ha, do you know me?"

He was confused, and he needed answers, hopefully this man knew them.

Jacob blinked. He was being bombarded with questions from two random strangers, and didn't know who to answer first.
"Um..." he muttered, his confusion obvious, "Uh, you. The man with the robes. Yes, you like any traveler can stay within the confines of our abbey, safe from both Satan and the law for as long as you wish as long as you cause no ruccus.
And you..."
He turned to face Jonny, holding the lamp close to his features and speculating over them.
"You... you..."
He muttered as he thought, concentrating his memory and squinting in the dim lamp light.
"Ah yes! I remember, you passed through here a month ago, stayed only one night!" the Cardinal exclaimed, "Something about being on a quest, searching for something... girlfriend? Treasure? Ah, I forget. But come! Join us in the abbey, you had such good stories the last time you came, it kept those lazy clerics entertained for weeks after. In the morning, Brother Samuel will make the two of you breakfast, best eggs you've ever tasted. God gave that man tallent... but ah, where was I? Right right, the abbey, and sleep. Oh! And what about that man I saw you with down by the fire? Where is he?"

Ah Hells, this one's a Cardinal... Thought Larenz as he neared the Holy man and the stranger. He brought his horse to a halt with a slight tug on the reins and gave a nod of his head to the Cardinal.

"Evening Cardinal," Larenz cheerfully. "Seems the abbey is going to be a bit busy tonight." He took a swig from the canteen hanging on a strap from his shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have time in your abbey for a bard like me would ya?" He patted his horse and grinned. "Don't worry, Cathal here is Christian enough for the both of us."

Ah Hells, this one's a Cardinal... Thought Larenz as he neared the Holy man and the stranger. He brought his horse to a halt with a slight tug on the reins and gave a nod of his head to the Cardinal.

"Evening Cardinal," Larenz cheerfully. "Seems the abbey is going to be a bit busy tonight." He took a swig from the canteen hanging on a strap from his shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have time in your abbey for a bard like me would ya?" He patted his horse and grinned. "Don't worry, Cathal here is Christian enough for the both of us."
The ignoramous comeith, thought Jacob, eyeing the bard up and down, I wonder how saused up this fellow is already.
"Ah! You must've played the music I heard!" Jacob exclaimed, "We'd be happy to have you in and, er... discuss religion with your horse, as long as you steer clear of the sacrimental wine. And yes, now that you mention it this is the busiest night I've seen in decades."

Izual didn't bother paying the others any attention. He was only interested in the response of Jacob and was indeed pleased to hear that his hospitality held no predjudices. He couldn't help but scoff at the mention of being safe from Satan. Izual wasn't worried about Satan, he had no qualm with that demon, it was Arithon and Nez'gah that posed threats to his existence.

Whilst considered a competent warrior, Izual's power was nothing compared ot that of the two demon lords. And so he constantly made an effort to stay out of sight from demonkind, even if they were partly his brethren.

"Thankyou."

Without another word, the rustle of chains was heard once again, as was the dragging of something heavy as Izual made for the abbey, the senseless brute following behind him.

Jonny was glad to hear that this man new him from somewhere. But this mention of a quest shocked him. Thoughts came popping into his head.

A quest? What for? Had he succeeded?

He thanked the man and followed him into the abbey, staying close, knowing that at least this man knew something about him. He would ask questions later, but for now he was busy staring at an odd man dragging something behind him. His armor looked familiar. That would be another question left for later.

Now inside the abbey, darkness was less prominent due to lit candles. Izual's grey robes were now in full display, yet nothing could be seen of his face or any other distinguishing features. A steel chain flowed out of his right sleeve and fell away into the darkness, obviously connected to something.

Whilst there was plenty of flame around the room, no light seemed to go near the figure behind Izual and therefore nothing could be seen of it, save for the chain plunging into the shadows. Izual had done this on purpose in an attempt to minimise attention and scrutiny, although he got the feeling it could not be avoided in this place.

He took a quick look at his surroundings before settling his cloaked gaze upon Jonny, who was starring straight back at him. Immediately Izual took a disliking to him. This stranger seemed far out of his depth and the kind of person that couldn't survive if they had an army protecting them.

After several minutes of watching eachother, Izual spoke.

"Something wrong stranger?"

Jonny was still staring at the man, looking up and down his figure. He thought for a moment and spoke "Who is your lord?" He asked staring at the emblem on the mans shoulder. "Where do you come from?"

Larenz walked out of the abbey stables after laying out some fodder and oats for his horse. He walked lightly towards the abbey doors and pushed through them to come face to face with a Priest. Larenz didn't say anything for a moment as the Priest looked him up and down, the man's eyes stopping on the Druidic runes tatooed around Larenz's forearms, just above the wrists.

" 'Ello ole chap!" said Larenz, giving the Priest a friendly smack on the shoulder. The Priest seemed to take offence and Larenz just walked on past carelessly muttering, "Snooty lil bastard that one..."

He walked on down the hall and stopped in front of two large, open oaken doors and stared passed and through a room to an altar, beside which rested a gold-colored tub of a reddish-purple liquid.

Larenz stepped into the room and walked towards the altar quickly and paused, looking around the room cautiously. He looked at the tub and grabbed a goblet from a small round table beside it.

Been a while since I had a bit o' wine... He dipped the goblet and took a swig of the church wine. Then nearly dropped the goblet as he caught sight of a monk.

He layed the goblet back onto the table and wiped his mouth quickly. "Eh heh, just uh, you know, blood of Christ..." He turned around and faced the Cross and made a quick cross in the air. "Uh...Father, Son, and the....Holy Ghost." Don't really mean it Dagda, don't worry ole, friendly High God you...buddy?

"So uh, you know where can a guy get a real drink around here, you Holy fellows got a bar perhaps where you sit, drink, chat...?" asked Larenz, quickly changing subject.

OOC: Christac, if you had taken note to read my discriptions of Izual, you would realise he is covered head to toe in a grey robe and therefore you cannot see an emblem on his shoulder.

IC: Izual continued to glare back at Jonny. Who the hell did this stranger think he was, asking sucj questions to Izual, a being of higher understanding! At one point in history, Izual had served the darkness, then the light, and now himself. He wanted no part of either higher power.

"I serve no one. As for my origin, let us settle upon it being a place you have never been before, far away."

Izual's voice took on a sombre tone as he thought back to his first few moments of existence, within the bowls of Arithon's realm. The fusion demon and human bloods had created him, yet he was so much more now.

A low groan escaped from the heap behind Izual. Turning around, he delivered a sharp kick to the brute's face, plunging him into darkness once again.

OOC - Sorry Mate

I C - Jonny was taken aback by this response and was even more shocked when the man in front of him kicked a groaning bag behind him. "Whats in there?" Jonny asked

OOC: No problem... :rolleyes:

IC: Izual looked down at the hulking mass within the shadows then back at Jonny. He didn't like this man, he was far too inquisitive for his own good. After all, curiosity did kill the cat.

Stepping in front of the chained men, Izual glared back at Jonny.

"Nothing of your concern."

Jonny had this nagging feeling in his mind

This man knows something, something which I should know

He would have to press him further, but this could wait for a bit longer. Jonny walked into the other room and sat by the fire, trying to reflect what had happened to him.

With the irritating stranger gone for the moment, Izual approached the holy man and inquired about lodgings.

"Do you have a private room I may be able to stay within?"

Another audible groan could be heard from the shadows, the man was waking up and there wasn't a lot Izual could do without casting a spell upon the bastard.

"What in the fresh yotz did you take me this time?" Icarus muttered to himself, not in a particulary irritated manner that one might expect to hear from a man who had just been teleported away from one of his freinds rather harshly. His tone, like his character, was ever amused and ready to enjoy a new situation. This was a new place, a new place he had not been in, and there were few things he enjoyed more than exploring new places. Well, there were a few things greater than this pleasure, but most of which were frowned upon by society in general.

Icarus looked around, turning full circle to observe his surroundings. He thought he might be teleported somewhere interesting, like a vast city, or an underground ruin in which he could run and leap from the abandoned buildings. But no, all around him were sand dunes, endless sand. Now, Icarus was all for sand. He liked sand from time to time. But having so much sand in one place seemed so terribly dull. And with this observation that this new location was awfully dull, Icarus only now became irritated. Icarus, the eccentric, rarely irritated, now became driven to find somewhere else to explore. Icarus felt like marching right back up to Ragnar, the person who had teleported him when he innocently asked to look within his arcane chambers. Well, asked, then regardless of the answer, proceeded into the chambers. That place *was* interesting, Icarus thought pleasingly, for the two seconds that he saw all those brightly coloured bottles, rapturing tombs, and that massive construction which was in progress. A thing of stone, metal and gold....most intreging indeed!

Icarus reajusted his overly large broad hat, the hat providing a wonderful service to him in this situation. In most situations, it made him more prominant and often made hiding more difficult. The strange thing about this hat was that it almost never fell off, no matter what acrobatics Icarus performed. This hat was planted upon his flowing silver hair, which had been tied back into a pony tale at the back. Perhaps for convienance, perhaps for style. If it was Icarus, it was most likely the latter case.

Going downwards, Icarus possessed a face which had a rather bronzed pigment, suggesting that he had been outside of long amounts of time, journying or somesort, not like his "freinds" who were paler than he,f rom staying longer in doors out of the sun's rays. Icarus wore a pair of glasses, an odd pair of unknown nature. They were gold rimmed, and the lenses were currently a tinted red colour, rapidly changing to blue. To this day, no-one but Icarus knew the purpose of these lenses, if they could zoom in or out for Icarus, identify magical items or any other ideas to thier purpose which could be presented. Icarus when asked, would shake his head and start an inane coversation which was deliberately woven to lead away from himself, or at least the details of himself.

Icarus wore a black jacket, which Icarus had opened to let himself cool. The black jacket seemed prestine, and well kept. Although how Icarus could keep his clothes in good condition was something only the Gods would know, knowing Icarus' attention span. Upon the jacket, and his matching trousers which were slightly too baggy for him and thus made a large amount fo sound when he moved, were golden rings for something. They looked like they were put in deliberate places, for putting something into it. Perhaps a harness? Or somewhere to put a magical item? Who honestly knew?

Upon Icarus's side, was a sheave to a longsword. The sheave was made of a black leather, which hardly carried the flair that Icarus' other clothes had. It was rather plain, and if one had to make a judgement upon it from the sheave, seemed a weapon that you could aqquire rather easily upon the street. Such a weapon would be drawn by his gloved hands, which were also black, and had a wide trim, coloured gold like the rest of his clothes.

"Well, time to go and find somewhere *interesting*! The damned nerve of Ragnar to put me in this boring place, when the world continues to spin with adventure!" Icarus proclaimed, and began to trudge through the sands in order to find someone...or something. Anything, anything at all to allievate the boredom.

His walked with a jaunty gait, as if the world was not really there and this was some ridiculus dream. One might think that Icarus was insane.


Those thoughts might be very close to the truth it would seem.

---

The figure of Icarus, rather weary and swaying slightly from his long hours of journeying, could been seen very close to the cathedral. He could also be heard too, bellowing some non-sensical banter, apprently in an arguement to someone who was not actually there. He was dragging his sword, ocassionally swiping at an enemy who was not there, but whom swiftly dodged.

Icarus continued to pace, his high pitched voice audible across the desert, in the same manner that a zealous doomsayer's voice would some how reach every ear in the town when being dragged away by the authorities, hollering madly about how everyone was going to die in the most gruesome manner. Icarus, in fact, was once one of those people. To this day, Icarus firmly believed that the village of Strumfeils would be assaulted by imps, who would branish the fiery lance of a demon, and drive it into the ground. Then, this action done, the imps would populate and overun the place, proclaimed that this place was theres by both squatters rights and that this land was now controlled by his most unholy might of Dikahra'ool, a most vicious demon of the left hand side of hell.

The sword swipes lessened in number, and as Icarus approached, obviously utterly fatigued and drained by the last few hours of sunlight, collapsed in a rather amusing fashion, tumbling down the dune to the front door of the cathedral, making a small "thud" as he did so. He was still concious, his golden rimmed glasses changing colour to on odd shade of sickly green. Icarus was still muttering incorhently to himself under his breath, his sword still within his gloved hand.

Could the insane still find shelter in the home of God? Such was about to found out.

http://phatcat.animedominion.com/rpg/portraits/top820.jpg

With the irritating stranger gone for the moment, Izual approached the holy man and inquired about lodgings.

"Do you have a private room I may be able to stay within?"

Another audible groan could be heard from the shadows, the man was waking up and there wasn't a lot Izual could do without casting a spell upon the bastard.
"I do believe we do, yes..." Jacob muttered, turning his gaze towards some inperceivable object apparently connected to Izual, "But can I ask what you're taking into my abbey? For spiritual saftey reasons of course. If it requires it, I can give it a good dousing in holy water..."
Jacob slowly approached the chained figure, holding his lantern aloft.
"What... IS that?"

Izual slowly followed Jacob until they reached Izual's prisoner, the lamp casting light directly upon it. Izual's spell was not designed to deflect direct beams of light and so Jacbo gained sight of what was obviously a man with a sack over his face and torso and chains locked around his wrist and ankles, leading to a single chain now within Izual's grasp once again.

"He is of no spiritual threat to your institution. I can take care of any issues he may form with ease, have no fear sir."

Izual flicked his hand upwards, causing an unseen force to drag the blinded brute to his feet, obviously still groggy and unable to speak coherently. The figure attempted to walk away and stumbled on the chains, yet the invisible force seemed to keep him upright.

Looking back at Jacob, a dim flash of blue could be seen where Izual's eyes were.

"Have faith in my words, there shall be no foul play under your roof tonight by my hand. This man is my prisoner for certain crimes involving dark things. I shall ensure he comes to justice."

Izual didn't mention what his version of justice was, which would have convinced Jacob to kick him out immediately. It would be over soon enough, then Izual could return to his dark quest.

Jonny looked up shocked when the a man in chains was bought up, with a bag on his head. Jonny stared at this scene for a moment, then at the man in chains, he also looked familiar.

"Who is this man" Jonny found himself asking Izual.

Izual was getting really irritated with this stranger. His constant questions over issues that were none of his business were unwelcome and unwise. Stepping toward Jonny, Izual stopped inches before his face and hissed in a menacing tone.

"This man and what he is doing here shall remain under my control, without the interference of strangers."

At that point, Izual heard a loud thud against the front door, as if something large had been rammed into it. Turning back to Jacob, Izual pointed out the obvious.

"It appears you may have another guest."

(OOC Thank you Arithon for noticing my character = ) )

After Larenz recieved no answer from the shocked and insulted monk, he decided to find a place to grab a drink on his own and returned to roaming around the halls. He stepped around a corner and came in sight of the entrance hall, again.

Seven bloody Hells, how'd I come by here again? Must've made a wrong turn back there...

He walked down the hall and stopped near the small group of people.

"Well ello al-" A thud against the door cut him off. Another guest this evening? This is a busy night for a desert abbey...

"You know Cardinal, I hope you got enough drink for a bit of a crowd this evening," he said. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where this drink can be found would you? I found that holy wi- some water in the stables, but you know, not quite good as ale or whiskey."

Jacob stared in awe at Izual's captive giant, and crossed himself in a hasty, subconcous motion as it rose.
"Sweet holy mother of God," he gasped, which was quite the thing for a man of the cloth to say, "I... I don't know if we can house such a demon in our abbey... we're very... unequipped for such a thing..."
His first instinct was to pick up a stick and poke the large body. He had no idea what this would accomplish, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. He quickly dismissed it, however, when his mind harkened back to an attempt he made earlier in life at the age of five to poke a snarling pitbull in the side with one such stick. It taught him an important lesson: never screw with anything that could eat your foot if given half a chance.
"Do you have... some way to keep that thing securly out of the abbey?"
Next to his encounter with the giant, the bard's prodding seemed like a mere nusance, but it was a nusance he had to address.
"What?!" he snapped at Larenz, "this guy's got a bloody giant on a leash and all you can think about is getting bleeding wasted? Our sacrimental wine is for sacrimental purposes ONLY!"
He paused for a bit, and considered how possible it was that a pint of ale would keep the bard out of his already thinning hair for a bit. He sighed, and readressed Larenz with an altogether calmer tone.
"Well, I suppose you could talk to our resident drunk Monks... they brew some sort of ale, God knows where they get the barley from. They think they're so clever, hiding their filthy booze from me when they REEK like it! Filthy, filthy monks and their booze..."
He looked up at the others, like he forgot they were there for a second.
"Er, right. Look for them in the basement. Drunken bastards think I can't hear them down there. The door to the basement is in the ground along the side of the abbey, if you really must be tanked immeadiately."

Larenz stood back in mocked shock.

"Why, Cardinal," he exclaimed sarcastically. "You should know a good bard never gets totally drunk this early in the night, especially if there is a potential audience." He turned to face and walked towards the abbey's door and pulled them open, revealing a man wearing a black jacket that was dirtied with sand, a sword hanging in one hand, and looking rather worn.

Larenz grinned at the sight. "Now get a load of this character, lads!" he said to the strange group behind him. "You look like a man who could use a good mug o' ale, how about it? I hear there is a hidden brewery in the cellar-"

He paused for a moment, listening to the strange rambling of the, well, stranger. "What's that about imps and the end?" Larenz chuckled.

"Eh chap, you can tell me all about it on the way to the cellar," said Larenz putting an arm around the strangers shoulder, already taking a liking the madman. Larenz always had a spot for the seemingly insane, being that he was often called mad himself; thought that could be due to his inability to take any situation truely serious.

"You know I once had a friend who mentioned something along those lines, but he was speaking of cannibalistic fire midgets of doom rising from the Seven Hells to take on the human race, perhaps these tales are linked?"

"Quite possibly, quite possibly. Although I think the colours might have altered when Mr.Card told me of these events. Such is the problem with recounting tales, eh? As they flow from one cup to the next, they tend to get new wine added to it. Which makes the tale rather drunk, and arrested. Huh. Go...go sands, go be quenched by wine. The imps request it, so go forth." Icarus rambled to himself, his vision blurred and his movements sluggish through fatigue. All the while, he still clinged onto his sword tightly, even though the blade scraped across the floor.

Icarus Suraci had absolutely no idea where he was at this point, he was half way between his own dream world of imagination, and this place of monks and wine. Such an odd existance, he thought to himself as he was led along to wherever this stranger would have him. A small high pitched whine was heard from his spectacles, which were slowly making the lenses turn from a light green to a rather depressing black. How Icarus saw was questionable, although few could argue that the change of colour did go with his clothes.

"Oh....yeah. Mr.Card says my name is Icarus. Is....is that..true? He has a awful habit of lying, or making me look bad." Icarus mumbled to himself, his eyes low and his mouth barely operating, making his words drone into the next.

Izual remained calm as Jacob seemed to go frantic over the presence of this man. Although man was perhaps not the best word to describe him. Only the holy man had noticed that he was indeed more than a mere human. This bulging brute was possessed by quite an old demon, yet not a particularly powerful one. He held quite a bit of knowledge yet unfortunately for himself, he didn't possess the abilities to implement it.

Whilst Jacob seemed to have recognised the demonic presence within the human, he evidently didn't know what kind of demon it was or he didn't have much abilities in stopping such forces. Izual on the other hand could call upon a varried range of powers.

"Calm yourself Jacob. I have things completely under control."

Slowly walking around the standing figure, Izual looked up into his furious eyes which seemed to glow through the sack. It was evident the creature was awake, yet it seemed powerless to move or do anything else besides grunt in effort.

"I must keep him within reasonable proximity and guard. I hold the resources to restrain him and you can rest assured I would not risk the well being of you or other guests of this abbey."

At that point, the bard opened the door and led a man wearing a wide brimmed hat towards the cellar, obviously to add to their apparent lack of sense with the use of ale.

Larenz listened to the strange man as he walked towards the cellar.

"Icarus you say? If you like the name, then keep it lad," Larenz paused. "Unless you got relatives trying to find you by a different name....but I always found relatives to be nothing but a bother. Ah, here we are."

Larenz knelt down besides a pair of small doors in the side of the abbey where the walls meet the ground. He tried to pull them open, but found they were locked. He grinned. I did hang around the Druids for nothin'... He lay a hand on the lock and whispered something quietly, and then tried the lock again, pulling them up with ease.

"Ah, see there, those Druids always know the right stuff for breaking into places quietly..." He said to Icarus.

Larenz jumped down into the cellar and stood in front of a monk. The monk blinked his eyes and stared at Larenz, then at two other monks behind him, then back at Larenz.

"Where'd choo come from?!" demanded the drunken monk. "Choo an angel fallin' from the sky?!"

"Oh Gods no lad, not an angel," said Larenz. "Quick, give me some bottles of your finest ale. There is a demon up there in the abbey, and the Cardinal said we can try and give him enough to drink to pass out, then we beat him senseless!"

"Oh, right!" The monk turned, staggering a bit at the same time, and grabbed three large bottles of ale. Larenz dropped his pack easily to the ground and carefully layed the bottles in with the other various items he had.

"You have done the....er, Lord, that's right, Lord a great service in fighting...oh what's his name....Satan, right, in fighting Satan and his minions," Larenz said quickly, climbing out of the cellar. "If worse comes to worse, defend the ale lads, defend the ale lads!"

"With all our strength!" said on the monks.

Larenz shut the cellar doors and laughed. "Drunken idiots...See Icarus, if you like bein' called Icarus, that is why you never drink until you are dumb drunk. Nw, let's head back to the abbey, shall we ole lad?"

He put an arm around the strange man's shoulder and began walking back towards the abbey entrance. He pulled a bottle from his pack. "Tell me about this Mr. Card, he a good guy?" He took a swig from his bottle. "Want a drink? Got enough to go around now."

Jonny had taken his eyes of the strange man and his stranger 'guest' in chains. He was now staring at the seemingly mad man being led around by the bard he had seen earlier. He followed them and as they turned back from the cellar to return he approached the mad man.

He looks familiar he thought to himself.

"Hello, do I know you?" he asked the man, whilst firmly holding on to his sword just in case

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