NationStates Jolt Archive

The World of Anak Dùr
Map (http://www.brodt.dk/peter/s_shaleria.jpg)

The Races of Anak Dur:

The Elder Races-
Of Elves:
Among the old and near deathless of all the Races are the Elves, great in both mind and body. Chosen by the Gods in the Ancient Times to first step foot upon the sacred Earth of Anak Dur, and into them the Gods gave a peerless amount of knowledge of nature and healing and magic. They above all love the earth and its beauty choosing to live in the great forests of the land; they cherish it as their on children. They are also, due to their making, are the most formidable magicians and archers in all the lands. No one truly knows of when they first came into being, and nor have any yet known for one to die of old age or natural cause, seeming to be unaffected by disease; though very susceptible to the edge of a sword.

Of Dwarves:
It is argued as to whether the Elf or the Dwarf came first, though the Elvin Lords claim they were, and so is written in their great tomes of history in their high halls. But to the Dwarves goes a glory that is beyond that of the Elves. Since the beginning the Dwarves were masters of ore and stone, given by the Gods the gifts of shaping metal and stone to such perfection that none have matched it in thousands of years. Dwarves keep their homes in the mountains, and name their great hallowed halls after their fore fathers and keep to clans such as Locean and Muriati clans. They are rich in jewels and gold, and are strong in body as well in mind and given the power of Rune Magic, if but suffer from small stature. They too have the gift of immunity to any disease, but upon them the gift of seeming immortality is not; for their old do die, but ever slowly do they age, and many lives of men do pass before one does.

Of Faerie:
No Race has yet known or recorded in their past of when or from where the creatures known as Faerie come from. Dwarves and Elves first discovered them when Magic was yet strong with them. It was said that beyond the mountains known as the ‘Fence of God’ was from whence they came, yet all who go there and who seldom return, speak of dark skinned men and of great planes of empty sand, and of ancient evils that have yet to enter the world. The Faerie themselves embody Magic, the race split between the five elements: earth, fire, wind, water, and air.

Of Daemons:
It was said that the Great God Aphastus was greatly angered by the God Minaphius who had created the Faerie. In his turn Aphastus created the first Daemon, a twisted and evil creature to mock the image of Faerie. The first Great Daemon Lord Kar-Vaurin once set upon the world, tried to dominate the Lands and its inhabitants, wishing to have all the Races of Anak Dur under his dominance, but under the greatest of Warriors, High King Caendros who with an alliance of all Races destroyed the Daemon host and banished Kar-Vaurin to the Ether World of Spirits. Since the great battle, what is left of the Lesser Daemons and their kin haunt the evil places of Anak Dur, hoping for the return of their Daemon Lord.


The Younger Races-
Of Men:
It was said in later times that the Race known as Men came in the 3rd Year of the Elvin King Ar-Philaion, in the year 3024 by Elvish counting. They were in the same body as elves but yet not as fair of face or as skillful in mind. Neither great craftsmen nor great users of magic among them, but from this race sprung some of the mightiest of Warriors. The race of Man had a will to survive and survive they did, eventually populating themselves in kingdoms all over the lands in Dragonia, Utwan, and Celestra, and all over the great world. It was in the year 4010 by elvish counting, that the first High King of Anak Dur was made by the race of Man, to govern all in peace and Justice; the Elves and Dwarves, who had their own lords allowed the men to have their High King and gave them their support. The Line of Kings remained unbroken for over 400 years until the Battle of Kylrus when the Daemon Lord Kar-Vaurin fought with the Last High King Caendros who though vanquishing the Daemons, died in battle along with that of his five elder sons. The Line of Kings is believed broken and none have yet gone to claim the kingship, and the ancient castle of Lith Tiror remains deserted.

Of Trolls:
Not only Daemons sided with Kar-Vaurin. Men as well as evil Dwarves and even a few lesser Elves joined with the Great Daemon. When his army was defeated and these forces blown to the four corners of Anak Dur, the Men fled to the Swamps of Misery. There, mutated by its mire and twisted Magic, they became deformed and even mocking to the form of Man they once held. They were named Trolls, after their great hatred and anger, and terrorized the villages and towns of Men and Elves alike.

The ground was hard, frozen from hard winter nights and the ever presence of stone imbedded within it. The hooded and caped figure walked over the ground, the sound of his feet echoing over the empty plane.

Before him was a great carved wall, its gateway bearing a large rust-covered gate. Written into the rock over the gate was a message: “The Tomb Of Kings, Beware Ye Mortals.” The stranger disregarded the message and stepped up to the gate. With an outstretched hand and small uttering of words, a red light appeared and the gate melted into hot metal. The figure stepped over the gate and walked into the walled necropolis. Great houses of the dead stood everywhere; graves of past warriors were in plenty, the signs of kings being signified by their large pyramids and tombs. Few growth of nature was present, if any was twisted in the evil of the dead and the presence of Death itself.

The stranger walked further into the graves until he came to a large crypt. The figure stopped before it, faced by a semi-circle of carved stone figures. Each was tall and shaped in the manner of armored warriors. The crypt door itself was a great slab of stone, belted with strips of iron and metal, bolted with chains covered in rust.

The figure lowered his head and began chanting. “Er-ros viaon kopmt umes omnes deathois in adid arl-kan.” He repeated the chant nine times, saying it louder each time. A great red light sprang from his hands and smashed into the crypt door. Suddenly white light sprang from the five figures, sending their protective magic down upon the person who would dare enter that which was forbidden.

The figure faltered slightly under the white onslaught, then he chanted one last time and ended with the Final Words. “I-un Oarl-Krys!” The red light of the strangers magic beat back the white light and when touching the stone figures, destroyed them utterly.

Suddenly the crypt door exploded. A great smoke arose from the destroyed stone and for a moment the stranger could not see. Then the wind blew and the area cleared. There the stone crypt lay open. The stranger went to the entrance and looked down into it. A great stone stair led down into the bowels of the earth. Without a second thought the figure stepped down them.

After several thousand steps the stranger came to a great long hall. It was lit by torches, seeming to never go out, set up their brackets on the wall. At the end of the long hall was a door way. Great it was and made of gold and silver, the only metals that truly harmed Daemons. Its surface looked as if the faces of daemons had been carved into it, depicting such disgusting and grizzly scenes of carnage. Except for in the very center, where a circle was, a circle of gold with a silver pentagram inside.

The stranger stepped up to the door and looked at it for a moment. He took from his robes a large black dagger, its metal made from a fallen star. With it clutched in his left hand he drew the blade across his right palm and cut a pentagram into his palm. He did not cry out in pain, nor feel any pain as he did this chore. Finally with it complete he walked forward and set his bloodied hand, palm flat, against the circle, matching it hand for door.

“I enact the pact of Lost Souls, I by name of Aphastus do call forth, from the depths once departed, thus returned now in the offering. I Arcune , servant of Dark, give this blood price and name it paid. I call forth that which was once made, I call forth the bringer of Death, I call forth the ancient of ancients, I call Kar-Vaurin,” he said, his tone empty of all emotion or feel.

At first, nothing happened. Then suddenly the blood from the wound spread across the lines of silver, turning them red. The man suddenly lurched forward and screamed for the first time. More blood flowed forth, traveling along the intricate patterns of silver lines along the door, the blood being sucked from the wounds of Arcune.

When the entire door was thus covered with the lines of blood, the door released the man. He fell to his knees and held his hand protectively in his arms. He felt weak from the exertion but raised his head to watch.

The door glowed with an un-earthly light, it traveled along the lines of blood and covered the entire door. With a great clash the door exploded into pieces, the flying shrapnel turning to dust. From the doorway came the sound of a thousand eternal screams of agony, such that no true human could bear. Suddenly from the dark doorway stepped a large form, it had to bend over at the waist to exit. Other forms tried to follow, but it turned and slammed it’s powerful hand into the door and resealed it.

The body was over 9ft tall, black and red mixed in color, with great horns of black sprouting from the side of its head, great pure red eyes glowed and an exaggerated large mouth split from ear to ear. “I have returned,” it said in a deep corrupt voice.

“Yes, I am your eternal servant, my Lord Kar-Vaurin,” said the man. He bowed low and kept his face to the floor.

The pair had made good their departure from the tomb and left before the dawn of the next day. They traveled night and day, a great black cloud traveling before them, giving them the cover of a false darkness. They traveled for two and seven days until coming to the ancient city of Thazuer where they came to long deserted hall of the city’s king.

Kar-Vaurin changed his form to that of a Man, he had fair features and the darkest of hair, his eyes remained red. “Tell me Arcune, what has happened since my imprisonment?” the daemon lord asked. They were in the great hall of the city Keep, it was small and everything was coated with a heavy layer of dust.

“The High King Caendros died with his seed in the battle against you. Since then the race of Men has been scattered. The elves have withdrawn into their forests over the past hundred years. Dwarves no longer roam the lands as they did in ancient times, preferring to sit in their mountain halls and hoard their precious stones and metals,” said Arcune. He was on one knee, bowed before the human form of the daemon lord.

“And what of the Faerie?” asked Kar-Vaurin. He hissed the name of the hated race. It was the Faerie who had the real strength of magic of all the races, even in some cases more than daemons. In the final battle it had been their five strongest magicians who finally sealed him, after suffering wounds from the gold steel sword of Caendros.

“They have all but disappeared my lord, the last time one was seen, was near the sea at the old city of Lions Gate. I believe they have passed on to another place, perhaps even under the sea itself.”

“And my old forces?” he asked.

“Scattered, though some of your wiser and stronger lieutenants still hold a small portion of daemons in strength at the ancient Cimbre, where they await your return my Lord,” Arcune said.

Arcune himself was a Man, but over two hundred years past he had given his soul to the dark guards in return for power. Since he had traveled the lands in search of more power, eventually he found the secret rites of ritual which would release his master, Kar-Vaurin.

“Indeed…I will need to gather more forces. Now that the line of High Kings is no more, Anak Dur is mine.”

Bump...

Bump...comon people...isn't someone interested? Just create a character and then try destroying or banishing Kar-Vaurin.

Kharad downed the rest of his ale, lifting the mug up to his lips and turning it upside-down into his gaping maw. Trickles of the liquid ran out from the sides of his lips and down his bushy beard before soaking into his woolen tunic. The dwarf put his mug back down and muttered, trying to get the ale droplets out of his beard and clothes.

A number of the other patrons in the tavern were trying to sing to a drinking song with the aid of a bard playing a flute. Their usually off-key voices, mixed in with general drunkeness, however, was grating on Kharad, and his mood began to get fouler by the minute. Fortunately for him, the revelers ended their song not long afterwards, and he sighed in relief.

"Another!" some human shouted before he began singing a different song, immediately joined in by the chorus of other singers and the playing of the flute.

Kharad groaned and dropped his head onto the table in front of him.

He heard some ruckus, two men talking to each other in harsh words, then some pushing and grunting noises. The dwarf did not even before to lift his head and see what was going on. Things like this happened all the time in places like here. The singers kept on singing.

Then a hot bowl of soup came out of nowhere and splashed against his upper arm. That got his attention, and he roared as he got up. The closer of the two brawlers was about to fall on him, so he grabbed the man and instead shoved him up against the wall behind them.

"Thot was blood'ee hot!" Kharad shouted at the human he has pressed onto the wall, his eyes showing just how angry he was.

The singing and music quickly died off, leaving the entire tavern in an uncomfortable silence.

"Don't be doin' it again!" Kharad tossed the human onto the ground and stomped out of the tavern.

The night air outside was cold, and mist formed whenever he breathed out. But that was hardly anything to stocky dwarves. He began walking down the muddy street when the clouds overhead started glowing red, and thunder crackled in the distance. He looked up at the sky as several people gasped and pointed upwards.

"Whot in tha name of Orín?" Kharad muttered to himself.

Seconds later, the redness in the sky and thunder went away, leaving those who saw it wondering and confused.

Kharad was no scholar. No mage, no bard. He was a person who lived by the sword. Or, in his case, his axe and his run-enchanted hammer. But as the red glow went away, he remembered enough from his younger days in the hall of the mountain king to realize what this meant. It was a bad omen, and something major was happening. He could not remember the details the lore masters taught him from way back when, but he remembered that this was one of the most serious thing to happen to the entire world in ages, and most definitely in his lifetime.

The dwarf doublechecked his weapons and went in search of the local scribe or mage. Anyone who would have more information.

An old woman, her clothes in shambles, necklaces of shells and precious stones hung around her, and a deep hood hiding her face stumbled along the road. She held herself up by her staff.

She walked under the glare of the night sky. She did not need to look up to see that evil was in the air. Nor the signs of what that omen meant. Suddenly she sensed the presence of a mighty rune weapon. Its power emanated from something. Up ahead was a dwarf grumbling around.

She jumped at him. “You!” He nearly swung an axe to cut her down, but stopped. “Git off ‘ah me old hag!” he yelled. He threw back her hood as he pushed her, causing her face to be shown by the light of a nearby lantern. Her face was painted in small spots and in particular patterns, but the thing that caught the dwarf’s eye was the old hag’s eyes. They were sown shut.

He stumbled backwards and looked at her. “Your-your-your....”

“A seer, yes. And I know you Kharad son of Kharin, of the Dwarves. You now wonder what that evil sky is about no doubt. And I worn you now, your destiny is tied to its cause. As is that of many others, but that is for another time. If you wish to learn your destiny you must travel from this town of Lionsgate and go to the city of Valenor. There you will meet others like you. Chosen…no doubt…but I will not say more. Evil once more is alive in the land of Anak Dur and I will not tread heavily upon its wake. Go! Do as I say! It is your destiny after all,” she said and laughed a high cackle. With that she walked past the dwarf and on down the road.

When she got to the end of town she sat down and closed her eyes. In the morning, when the sun rose, he body turned to dust.

"Whot!? Whot d'ya mean?" Kharad shouted after the old woman. "Whot's goin' on in Anak Dur, eh? Answer me!" He watched as she ignored him and continue walking down the street. The dwarf shook his head. "Crazy hag."

He went back to his room at the inn, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that the women left him with, but was somehow unsuccessful. Had he been more ignorant of ill omens, it would not have been a problem to ignore her warning. But alas, the case was not for him.

Locking the door behind him and lighting some candles for light, he went to his window and closed the wooden shutters. He leaned his axe against the wall, near the head of his bed, and kept his hammer with him as he got into his bed. It was not something he normally did, but tonight was no normal night. His mind was thinking about too many things for him to fall asleep very easily, and so his eyes just kept darting back and forth in the room, dimly lit by what few candles that were still burning in there. Eventually, his eyelids got heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
Next thing he knew, he found himself back in the hall of the mountain king. King Rhanhon, to be exactly. The great hall was a massive work of beauty, showing off the skills of hundreds of expert, dwarven artisans. The rows upon rows of colonnades stretched far into the distance, holding up the darkened ceiling far above, keeping the mountain on top of them from weighing down on the hall and caving in. Large logs burned at marked intervals, giving light and warmth to an otherwise cold and dark locale.

The place was alive with a large population of dwarves. Some brandished beautiful, polished armor, the epitome of the mastery of dwarven smiths over the earthen elements. Others wore fancy, delicate, and clearly expensive robes. The commoners looked like nothing special, but they were just as happy and bright-eyed as everyone else. These were good times in the halls of the mountain king. Wealth was in abundance, and the riches flowed to every dwarf who lived there.

Kharad realized that he was a little kid again, running among the crowds through the all-too-familiar hall. He was either playing a game with some other dwarven children, or was running an errand for someone, or something. He could not remember, exactly. But it was not long before his attention was caught by something off to the side while he kept running forward, and ran smack right into someone.

"Whoa there! Keep yer feet on the grrround, little laddy," a familiar voice said.

The young Kharad looked up to see the wrinkly face of Porizihn, one of the lore masters. His white beard was long, but well-kept, and his garments certainly showed his position.

"Sorry, master," Kharad said. "I was just going to...to...umm..."

"To what, lad?"

"I...I can't remember," the little dwarf said to the much older one.

Some music started up somewhere in the hall, which caught his attention. The tune was familiar, and Kharad knew the lyrics to it at one point, but could not make it out from the rest of the noises in the great hall, nor could he quite remember the exact words to it.

"Kids these days," Porizihn teased, "having such short attention spans. Now listen to me, and don't forget: you must go to the city of Valenor."

"Why?" Kharad asked.

The face of the lore master suddenly changed to that of the old seer woman, her eyes sown shut in a grotesque manner. Kharad gasped and started backwards, but she moved in closer and closer to him.

"You must go immediately, before it is too late!" said the woman.

Then some sort of shadow enveloped the rest of the hall, swallowing everything up in darkness until all he could see was the woman in front of him. He kept backing up, and she kept moving toward him, until some shadowy form popped up from behind the hag and engulfed her as well before zooming straight at Kharad.

Kharad bolted upright in his bed, his rune hammer clenched in one fist and ready to bash.
The candles had burned themselves out by now, and everything was dark in the room, save for the slits in the shutters that told of the bright moon shining outside.

Getting out of bed, with his hammer still in his hand, the dwarf moved to the window and swung back the shutters to look out on the street below. All was silent and dark on the street. The revelers had all went home or to their rented rooms, and the tavern lights were out.

Then one of the runes on the hammer began to glow blue. Kharad looked at it, and realized immediately what that meant. A threat was nearby by. He crouched down so as to not be so easily spotted from his second-story window, eyes darting around the street to see if he can catch anything down there.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw something move in the shadows down the street. His head swiveled and looked over there, but saw nothing. He squinted, and something vague seemed to appear, like a physical shadow floating through the streets. The black, semi-transparent, ghost-like figure glided down toward his inn, and looked straight up at Kharad. It looked just like the shadowy figure in his dream. A chill ran through the dwarf's spine, and the lyrics to the song he heard in his sleep flooded back into his mind.

In nighttime's glow, in darkened days,
When light is low, and nightwolves bay,
The shades shall come, and all are numb.
Red skies summon, when thunders roar,
Evil's coming, with death in store,
The shades shall come, and all succumb.


The shadowy thing, sometimes visible, sometimes disappearing altogether, made a beeline for the inn's entrance. Kharad tore himself away from the window and went for his belongings. He knew he had to get out of there, and fast. Fortunately, most everything was already in his sack. He flung his cloak on, tossed the sack's strap around his shoulder, and grabbed his axe. He rushed to the door and flung it open, but as he got out into the hallway, the hair on the back of his neck tingled. The shade was already making its way up the only staircase out of there.

Kharad went back into his room, closed the door, and locked it. His eyes darted around the room, and the only escape he saw was the window. He ran over and looked out of it. He sensed another chill going down his spine, and knew that the shade was almost right outside of his door. No time to lose.

"Oh, blood'ee..." He took a few steps back, launched himself forward, and jumped out of the window.

"Oomph!" Kharad grunted as he landed hard, attempting to roll into a stop. That hurt, but there was precious little time to waste. He got up and noticed that his right ankle was a little weak. Nothing too impairing, but uncomfortable nonetheless. The dwarf looked up, and saw the shadowy creature, partially transparent, looking down at him from the window he just jumped out from. It then floated out of it, and slowly began to descend to the street.

Kharad ran as fast as he could, and spotted a sturdy horse tied up in an open stable next to the street. He knew he could not run forever, and stealing a riding beast was not too big of a problem for him when he was fleeing for his very life. He went to it, used his axe to break the ropes keeping the horse from running off, and scrambled on top of it. Dwarves and horses usually did not mix too well, but Kharad, being amongst humans so much in the past few years, was more used to them than most other dwarves. He whacked the sides of the horse with his legs, and the horse sprinted out of the stable with the shade's outstretched hand mere inches away from them.

He brought the horse to a gallop out of the quickest route from the town, which was the road headed toward Valenor.

Bump

*Tag*

(Reserved for post)

Nice writing so far.

Galen sat in the tall oak tree day dreaming, as usual, and hardly cared for anything else, not even troubled by the evil storm that had happened four days ealier. The sky was now blue, and he was enjoying the warmth of summer.

He sighed and thought of Alisa, the daughter of a rich merchant, whom he had been in love with for a long time. But it was highly unseemly for a merchants daughter to marry the son of a farmer, and so Galen was forced to day dream about Alia's smooth silky golden hair, or her beautiful cream white skin, or-

An apple suddenly smashed into Galen's forehead, and he nearly fell out of the tree. "What in the devil!" He hung on, then dropped to the gorund. He looked up and there standing before him was Maradeth, his father's best friend's daughter, and his childhood friend. She had brillant red hair and shocking green eyes, and she was slight of form and delicate. They'd been friends since they were both old enough to walk and talk, and Galen had never in all that time nor now ever thought of her than more than a friend.

"Damn it Mara, why did you do that?" he asked petulently.

"You were day-dreaming again weren't you? About Alisa?" she asked tauntingly.

"Thats none of your damned business!" said Galen, his cheeks reddening. Maradeth laughed and made fun of him some more.

"Anyway, Sir Dreamer, your father sent me to you to tell you that he will need you to work for Caleb tonight at the inn. He said Caleb was offering you three copper pieces for work tonight.

"Alright already, I get it. Thankyou for telling me." She smiled at him and shook her head. She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. He jumpoed backwards and had a shocked look on his face.

"What was that for!?" She shook her head again.

"Your clueless, dear Galen, and will always be a fool," she said, with that she spun aorund and raced across the fields of wheat.

"Hey! Wait up!" shouted Galen, and he raced after her. "What do you mean I'm a fool?"



At the inn, in the bar room, Galen was clearing another table of its emtpy goblets, and cups, and food trays. Men called to him, shouting drunkenly for more ale or beer or wine. Galen always shouted back a yes, and brought it as quickly as possible.

It was just as he turned around from the bar, carrying another tray of beers, the doors opened and in walked an armed dwarf, and for some reason something inside Galen's mind clicked.

The dwarf came in and moved to a back table. Shaking his head to clear it, Galen took the beer to the table of men who ordered it, then moved over to the dwarf. "What can I get for you sir?" he asked, he couldn't help that he seemed to stare.

OOC: Wow this looks good, did you make that map yourself it's pretty 'swish', I'd like to join if I may, but I have a single nitpick, wouldn't Air and Wind elements be the same? since Wind is just Air in motion...

Laphilion Illar Aradis sat staring at serene pool queitly contemplating the days events, the night had been troubled with many of his Elven kindred feeling upset or disturbed by the red sky and howling thunder.

His people were talking among themselves about a darkness and evil omens and in his heart he could feel it too. Within himself Laphilion felt that something unclean or warped had touched the earth, it was far off but his instincts told him that whatever it was would reach even his woodland home eventually and when it did a great deal of grief would result.

He had left his people after the red sky appeared pausing to take some basic supplies with him, food, water, some gold coin, his bow and his short sword. It was not uncommon for an Elf to decide to leave for days or even weeks at a time and thus he had left in good time telling only his brother that he was leaving.

He had slept for a few hours by the pool and refilled his waterskin, now he sat looking at the unmoving surface of the water.Tall green trees reached toward the heavens all around Laphilion and his keen ears could detect the faint sound of birdsong in the air.

For a moment more he sat there and then he sprang up with beyond human grace, he donned his dark blue-green cloak and took a final look at the figure reflected back at him from the surface of the pool, a slim and pale but strong figure with long golden hair and intelligent dark blue eyes, clothed in hues of dark green and black.

Inside him something was pulling at him, calling to him, his instinct told him to continue on his path although he knew not where he was being lead.

A lone plump figure walked across the open grassy field. He was a good sized dwarf with a variety of weapons about him. He had a large hammer swung over his back as well as three throwing axes tied to his belt. Though his main weapon was in his hands... a massively powerful axe with a blade sharpened to perfection.

As he walked down the rode he murmured a few words to himself about wanting a drink and a good place to sleep, "Walkin eint no fun now is it..." He made his way up the steepening hill and looked over to find a long road ahead of him. He continued to follow the road as he saw a strange sight...

When he looked behind him for a brief moment he saw a dwarf riding on a horse with all due haste. He wasn't sure if he saw the scene right so he waited as the horse got closer and sure enough it was a dwarf riding on the back of a horse. "I need t' get me one thos," he grumbeled to himself.

No swipe, no slash, no bash, no blow,
Nor arrows from the elven sow.
Nothing known can make shades hurt.
Now flee with haste; be quick, be curt.

Kharad and his horse flew through the eastern entrance of the currently sleeping town of Lionsgate, with the shade not far behind. Yet, the distance between them was widening, as the dark figure did not move as fast as the speeding horse did. The dwarf did not notice the seer near the road at the edge of the town, as she was sitting in the shadows, hidden from the moonlight, and did not make any movements whatsoever as he passed by her.

The shade broke off the chase and floated over to her instead. The old woman did nothing to protect herself from the creature, and the ethereal being pounced on her. By morning, there was nothing left of her but dust. Kharad never knew what the old hag did for him, how she sacrificed herself to buy him the time he needed to distance himself from the shade sent to stop him from fulfilling his destiny before he could even start it.

Up and down, up and down; the motion of a galloping horse was uncomfortable to the rotund dwarves, and even with Kharad's experience with riding, it was still something that he could never quite get used to. But this was no time to complain about something that gave you the speed you needed for an escape. He knew full well that he has not equipped to challenge one of those shadow creatures. As much as he hated the idea of having to run away from a fight, staying there to battle a foe who could not be hurt by your weapons was pure foolishness. And so he continued to flee. Every once in a while, he would look back and see nothing following him, but one could never be too safe, especially with creatures that could only be seen under certain conditions, and were completely invisible otherwise.

Yet, as much as he would push himself to keep moving on, he knew that forcing the horse to do so would be the death of it. Dawn was approaching when the endless rolling hills of tall grass was finally broken by some trees, and Kharad tied the horse up to one of the branches to let it rest. He offered the horse some of the water from his waterskin, after which it then began feeding off of the tall grasses around it. The dwarf would have kicked himself for forgetting to nab some oats and other such nutrients needed for a horse, had he not reminded himself that he barely escaped the touch of the shade as is.

Over the next several days, he continued eastward, following the trail that led him to Valenor. The threat of the shade following him pushed him in that direction, yet something else, something he could not quite figure out, was also pulling him in that heading.

He slept very little, always on the lookout for any signs of danger; not only from the shade, but from other, equally deadly creatures in the region. This was Dragonia, after all, and why else would it be named as so? Granted, those were in the days of old, when these lands were mere frontiers and uninhabited by dwaves or elves, least of all humans. By now, sightings of dragons were virtually nonexistent. But every once in a while, there would be reports of a great beast flying high over the mountain ranges to the north. So one could never be too safe.

There were scattered villages and isolated farms along the route, and he used the money he had on him to purchase provisions for himself and his horse. Some of these people, especially the younger ones, had never seen a dwarf before, and were usually more curious than hostile, although there were always a few bad eggs in the batch.

By the fourth day, he had reached one of these towns, larger than the other villages along the way, and headed into it. As the dwarf made his way through the streets, he suddenly had a hankering for alcohol. In short time, he was standing in front of an inn, tethering up his horse, and walked in to the bar room. The place was loud, for drunk people sometimes had trouble realizing that they were shouting far louder than they needed to. He went to a small, empty table near the back, and it did not take long for a serving boy to approach him.

"What can I get for you sir?" the server asked.

"Ah pint o' ale, lad," said Kharad. The boy stared a little too long, and the dwarf waved a dismissive hand, "Go on, git." As the boy moved off, Kharad stared back at him. There was something odd about the boy.

Bump

OOC: Rhinara, not to spoil your parade, but your not in Valenor yet. It takes much more time to get from LionsGate to Valenor, its something like a distance of 200+ leagues. I stopped you a little in a small village-town so I could introduce another character, so maybe you could edit your previous post?

IC:

"Sure thing mister, just give me a moment to fetch it!" said Galen hurredly. He had never met a dwarf before. He'd seen them from a distance, when the sparse and random caravan of traders would come from the mountains on their way to the sea, but he had never seen one up close.

He hurried to the back kitchen and got a large tankard and filled it with ale, the golden-brown liquid pouring wonderously into the tankard. Galen added a side of meat and a loaf of bread to the platter, then carried out into the hall.

He set the platter on the table, and was almost tumbled to the floor as the dwarf nocked him out of the way to get to the tankard. "AH! Aboot tim' it is!" he said jubilantly. He put the tankard to his lips and drank heartily. Galen was amazed at the dwarf's gusto and impressed when he realized that the dwarf had just drunken more than half the tankard in one gulp.

The dwarf lowered the tankard and wipped his arm across his mouth. "Now that's a gud brew if I ever tasted it!" he said. He smiled at Galen, who shakily came to his feet.

"Can I get you anything more sir?" asked Galen.

"Yes, get me two more of these tankards, and that will be all," said the dwarf. Galen nodded and walked to the bar. Caleb, the barman, stood behind it cleaning a large glass goblet. "Wotcher Galen! What do you need?"

"I need two more tankards of ale, for the dwarf," said Galen, he nodded back to the dwarf who was now int he process of consuming the meat in less than three bites.

"Ah, very well. Here you go!" Caleb took two large tankard from below the bar and set them below the tap, then let them begin to fill. "And when your done I need you to take this food here up to a gentleman in room three," Caleb said. He motioned to a platter set on the bar, it was beef soup, bread, a goblet and a bottle of wine were all on it. Even a set of brass knife and fork.

"Alright," said Galen. He took the tankards now full back over to the dwarf. He set them down, the dwarf grunted a thankyou, and he walked back to the bar. Lifting the platter he turned and headed for the stairs. Once on the second floor of the in he looked at each number that was tacked into the wooden frame.

He stepped up to the one which had a '3' tacked into it. He nocked. "Sir, I have your order." A scrambling noise came from behind the door, and the floor creacked. The door cracked open and Galen was observed by what looked like part of a man's face. The man saw that it was indeed food, and opened the door even more.

He was tall, 6 and 1/2 feet tall. He had a short black beard, and equally black wavy hair that came to his shoulders. His blue piercing eyes watched as Galen entered the room and set the platter on the table inside. The man, strangely dressed in black-brown robes, nodded. "Thankyou boy, heres a tip," the strange man said. He flipped Galen a copper coin.

"Thankyou sir!" said Galen, he smiled and left the room. The man smiled and then sat down to his meal.


Outside the inn, several hundred yards away, three tall black forms appeared from a thick mist. They looked upon the inn's lights, then decided to wait. They stood motionless, and no one saw them.

(OOC: o_O 200+ leagues? Wow, that'll probably take me 15-25 days. Ok, previous post has been edited. DMG, wanna edit yours to this town too, so you can get into it earlier? It's fine if not, just figured you'd be waiting for a long time otherwise.)

As night fell, Kharad rented out room four of the inn. At last, a real room with a real bed! As used to sleeping under the stars as he was, it was nice to sleep on something comfortable every once in a while. Plus, he had enough money to splurge, at least in moderation.

He got a stable for the horse before he retired to his room. As the dwarf passed by room three, he heard some noise right on the other side of the door, and he froze, listening intently as his hand slowly moved toward his axe. Had this been five days ago, he would have just ignored it and kept walking on, but he was on edge now, and every little thing that might be out of the ordinary caught his attention.

By the creaking of the floor, he could tell that whoever was on the other side had moved away from the door. Kharad shook his head. Probably just someone pacing back and forth in their room. Going into his own room, he made sure to set his belongings so that he could easily grab them in case he needed to make another quick escape. With everything in place, he went to bed.

A short time after he witnessed the odd sight of a passing dwarf on the back of a horse, he turned to see another approaching traveler. Noticing that the traveler, who looked to be human, was riding a horse that had a cart in tow he decided to see if he could get himself a ride.

Walking over to the side of the road, he called out to the incoming stranger, “Hey thar ye. Does you thinks that you can ‘elp a poor stranger and gi’ me a ride?”

The rider was quite startled as he had not seen the dwarf appear at the top of the hill. He stopped his horse and sized up the plump figure for a moment, “Well... uh…”

“I knows what ye be thinking… and I am not that heavy,” the dwarf said though it was not at all true. “Come now. I won’t be the slightest of burden for ye,” he said as he walked to the cart and climbed in next to a barrel.

Not wanting any trouble from the rotund dwarf, the man simply nodded and smiled through clenched teeth as he bid his horse to ride.

Some time during the ride, the dwarf had discovered that the large barrel was filled with ale. Needless to say that he began drinking it and by the end of the journey it was half empty. Leaping out of the cart and stumbling slightly the dwarf thanked the man before heading off down the main road of the town. Though he needed to stop at some vendors to buy some goods he noticed that it was now night time and the vendors had all closed up shop and gone home. “Ah well… I do it in t’ morning,” he said as he walked up to a local tavern. “This ‘ere look like a place a dwarf would enjoy,” he joked to himself as he smiled and entered.

When the inn keeper saw him he was perplexed. “Well aint that something… two dwarves in one night,” he said quietly to himself. “Ah… good sir what can I do for you,” he greeted. “Perhaps some ale?” he asked remembering how the other dwarf had been.

“No tanks, not te’night. I just polished off half a barrel on the way o’er here,” the dwarf replied. After a moment’s thought he spoke up again, “Though if you could ‘ave some ready for the mornin’, that’d be great. For now, I’ll be taking a room for the night.”

The inn keep led him to his room where he would sleep for the night. Settling in, the dwarf unslung his weapons from around his body and laid them up against the wall in good reach. Not quite ready to sleep, the dwarf wandered into the hallway and then downstairs to the main room. Sitting in front of the warm fire he relaxed.

The night sky shone above Laphilion as he continued on his way, the moon cast it's faint light upon the world around the elf as he lightly wandered on.
After many more moments he sighted several small knots of trees ahead and decided that one such location would be a good place to rest the night.

He had learned the name of the place he was headed; it's name was Valenor, he had awoken one morning with that name ringing in his head.He had inquired of a merchant he met along the way of it's location and received the answer of "around 200 leagues away" that had weighed his spirits down for a while but that too had passed.
He broke into a light run and quickly reached a small patch of trees, in the distance he could see the lights of a small town, he felt a sense of familarity with the trees at once and set himself down at the base of the largest one.

After a moment he drew out a chunk of elven traveling bread and bit into it, it's sweet and nut-like flavour was pleasant and it was satisfying enough and after he had finished eating he washed it down with a few mouthfuls of water feeling much replenished he sighed and attempted to rest.
The night was cold and he regretted the lack of a thicker cloak but eventually he fell into an uneasy slumber.

OOC:-snip-
Just remember your coming from the 'opposite' direction as the others, so you won't be in the same town or general area.

IC:

The three black forms still stood silently in their spot, unmoving, watching as light after light within the inn went out. Then their target came out from the inn.

"Goodnight Caleb! Thanks for letting me work tonight!" called Galen as he came out of the front door, the barman waving him on into the night.

"You be careful on your way home lad, theres a mist tonight, so keep to ya' feet!" said Caleb, and he disapeared into his inn.

The three black forms moved forward. Galen started singing under his breathe as he walked down the lane, unknowing what lay ahead of him, a few coins rattled in his pockets. "I've made 5 copper! Thats enough to buy that necklace from the merchant for Alisa!" he called excitedly to the night. Suddenly he stopped, feeling the presence of another.

He glanced around, but he could see nothing. "Who's there?" he said. No one answered. He heard soft foot-falls from somewhere. Then suddenly a loud hissing sound.

"Down boy!" cried a voice, and a hand from behind shoved Galen to the ground. An outstretched hand, palm up and showing glowed white and sent a a wave of white fire into the night strait ahead. In the light of this magic, Galen saw three black wraiths had been coming towards him. He looked up and saw it was the man who he had served dinner to earlier, the man from room three.

The white fire hit the first of the wraiths and it screached a death wale and disapeared. The other two dodged to either side and sent balls of red flame at the man. "Dieeee youuuu!" one called in a corrupted voice. The man went to his knee and with his fist pounded the earth. A great white circle of fire erupted from the ground, encircling Galen and the man. The red flames hit it, but the shield held.

Suddenly, from the second story window came a yell and the sound of a window breaking. A dwarf, weilding a large hammer landed upon the ground and tumbled with skill outside. He had jumped through his window. "Alrigh' you basturds! Com' an get wha' comin' to ya!"

A wraith shreiked and charged him. The dwarf, with surprising speed brought his hammer around and it impacted on the wraiths chest. For a moment no one moved, as if frozen by this show of might. The hammer, glowed a great golden fire, runes of the dwarves flare a deep blue and gold, lighting up the area. The wraith shrieked this time in fear, and erupted into a cloud of black dust.

The dwarf spit on the ground. "Basturd,' he grumbled. Galen was open eyed. Suddenly he rememberd the other wraith and turned to where it had been. There the man and the wraith were facing each other. "Imatium!" shouted the man. Another white fire speared from his hand, but the wraith blocked it, and moved around again. The dwarf charged forward and tried smashing it in the head, but missed. It manuevered around until it stood below the inn. "You will dieeee creaturesss of the lighttt," it said in a corrupt voice, as if it had once been human.

Suddenly another loud yell came and another body flew through the broken window. Another dwarf came through the air and held high an axe in his hand. "Die you whore-son!" His blow cleaved into the wraith's shoulder, and he hit the ground hard, rolling in a heap.

The wraith screamed. Then suddenly fanished as another ball of white fire smashed into its chest. It quickly turned to ash. The strange man stepped forward and looked down at the fallen dwarf. "No need to worry young Galen, he's alive," the man said in a deep voice.

The other dwarf helped Galen to his feet and led him over to where the man and the other dwarf was. The first dwarf, with the hammer, went over and kicked the other dwarf and mutttered something in dwarfish to him. Then he turned to the man.

"And just who are you?"

"I will explain inside perhaps? I'm not sure if there are more, and my tale is very long," said the man.

"Alright, boy you come with us," said the dwarf. Galen nodded and followed reluctantly as the party walked inside. The other dwarf still lying on the ground grumbled and came to his feet. "Don't furget me' now you basturds!" He quickly ran inside, hauling his axe along.

OOC: I put my current position at somewhere outside Starfall Astel, would that be about right or as an elf would I have started in another location?

IC: After a precious few hours sleep Laphilion rose and headed along the road toward Velenor, Still a long way to go he thought to himself as he walked further down the lightly trodden road.

He hoped he could find a stream or lake to bathe in soon, he could use magic to keep his clothes and body clean but it didn't really feel the same.

Laphilion was the son of a hunter and a spellweaver and as a result he knew a fair few of the magic tricks for preserving food and other mundane things like keeping clothes clean or the like but he was much more at home fighting with bow and blade than magic and incantation and as a result his battle-magic abilities were rather lacking, at least compared to the sorcerers of his homeland.

It would be dawn within a few hours time and Laphilion considered obtaining a horse for faster travel as he jogged down the road.
The village he left behind was more of a farmers village that was unlikely to have much in the way of sturdy mounts, Laphilion kept moving and hoped to find a village before the next night, not that the night was a problem for him usually but lately...he had felt something disturbing and he'd feel safer with a horse to make a fast escape from danger.
Even now he had the eerie feeling that something ghastly was nearby.

Unseen to even his elvish eyes a winged shape sat on the upper branches of a nearby tree, covered by foliage it grinned with a wicked show of sharp fangs.

OOC: No, you could say that is where a small settlement of elves live. But the largest amount of elves, and where the King of the Elves lives is in Vieroe, in the middle of the Coldwind Forest, so your fine where you are.

"Down boy!" a voice from outside shouted, muffled by the wall and window.

"Mrrr...I don't wan'ta..." Kharad muttered in his sleep, rolling over onto his other side and hugging his rune hammer tighter.

An inhuman screech followed seconds later, and the dwarf's eyes shot open. The first thing he saw in the darkness was a single blue rune glowing on his hammer, warning him of a nearby danger. He jumped out of his bed, untangled the sheets from around his legs, and looked around the room, hammer held back, ready to strike.

It was not long before he realized that all the commotion was happening outside, and he ran towards the window to see what was going on below. The dark figures were not completely familiar to him. Certainly not like the floating, ethereal shades. But he knew enough to tell that they were no good He might as well do what he could to help beat them off...although, coming out through the front door may take too long.

"Fer cryin' out loud," he grumbled before jumping out of the second-story window for the second time that week. With a battlecry, he launched himself into the air and down into the street.

The battle was over in a flash. Kharad looked around to make sure there were no more enemies close by, which was confirmed when the threat-detection rune slowly dimmed to nothingness. He grabbed the boy by the back of his collar and hauled him to his feet before heading over to the other dwarf and kicking him in the sole of his shoe. "Ah, you'll be fine. Quit playin' arrround an' pick yerself up, thar."

After going back into the inn and ignoring the owner's worried looks and questions, Kharad took a seat near the fireplace, its log now reduced to still-warm embers. "Now fer some answers," he said. "Who in tha blood'ee Ether World be you? An' wot were those things attackin' ya?"

After the battle, the dwarf got to his feet and brushed off his clothes. Walking inside after the other two figures he began talking, "Well whot the hell was that about. Ruddy bastards tackin' a poor man durin the night..."

"Aye. A fine battle 't was, but I must ask who the ruddy hell are you people," said the dwarf as he entered the inn again to face the others.

Eying them over quickly, he stopped when he got to the other dwarf, "Well eint that sumtin... anutter dwarf staying at the same inn-" He stopped midsentence as it hit him, "Wait a second. You be the dwarf I seen riding into town - don't know how ye stand it, bloody uncomfortable if you ask me."

"Oh..." the dwarf said as he had been ramblind, "By te way... the name be Thorin, Thorin Gravehammer."

OOC: The more, the merrier, right? Bumpity.

OOC: I will reply in a little bit, I'm rather busy at the moment.

[bump?]

Moors-

Across the sea, past the known land markers, past your world and into the next world lies the Moors. Now the Moors are not your common men, they are the Moors and their proud heritage shows up in every aspect of their long lives. Moors unlike regular men have glowing, no I am not talking about glowing as "glowing in hatred" or sorrow, nor glowing as in "piercing blue eyes", yes their eyes are blue or at least a dark blue turquoise. Their eyes are literally glowing blue, as in "the Moors eyes glow in the dark" glow, their eyes are the most distinct feature in their anatomy. Yes they are neither left nor right-handed but both, humans use their brains almost none when compared to a Moors, the Moorish physic is also more streamlined, results from diet and exercise which revolves around enhancing swimming. That is just little things, but when someone sees a Moor they aren’t drawn to those facts, they are drawn to the mystical, reserved, and elegant aurora and eyes. For adventure always spring up when Moors enter the picture, even if it is just a herd of sheep and a shepard.

The history of the Moors is for the most part heavily documented as there is always, and will always be, Moors who devote their life to analyzing themselves, history, and other people. For the most part in the earliest times were just a group of fledgling states centered around a few towns, The islands themselves (at least in the Beridian Chain which consists of 8 dukedoms) knew each other relatively well and there were a few skirmishes but for the most part the Moors were happy discovering new things and letting the world be recorded. This all changed with a series of assassinations, coups, and revolts that threw most of the former Monarchies on the ground. The most prominent figure emerged out of Moorington, Maxen Von Bismarck, the now called Might of Moorington, with a trained army. They conquered each dukedom in turn, surprisingly the closet and maybe the weakest dukedom of the time, Bursburg (which shares the main island with Moorington) withstood numerous attacks but finally surrendered on its own terms, which resulted in a equal border and a "no-mans land" which was not abolished until 1945 AU (After Unification). Another cultural change was to not incorporate much of the former independent states into Moorington except for a few key outposts. Instead Moorington High Command formed a new "Commonwealth" with Gardenton (the island closest to Moorington for obvious reasons) as its leader. The commonwealth was renamed to "Unified Dukedoms" which almost acted as a separate state with only a few Moorington appointed figures to observe, dictate, and to provide as a figurehead. Once established the UD provided much help with wars to incorporate more Moors and some other natives into the UD. With the close of 2000 sees the Moors equipped with advanced crossbows, nautical warfare, and great scientific and cultural advances.

The dates can be anything, just random stuff.

So the Facts:

Noun: Moors
Adj: Moorish
City's Name: Moorington (I am orignal)
Location: Cape Deception
POP: 10,000
Attitude: Civilized Epansionist
Military: Think of Prussia, 1200 armed soilders (all reservists)

OOC: Well I will allow for you to have your own race, since the race of Faerie is in fact varied and more of a broad name for them. But as for commanding a huge army or something like that, you'd have to be content with being a human king. So, your choice on whether you wish to be a character king with a small kingdom or a character of some race you create, or an army of something...I dunno. Anyway. yea. Go for it.

IC:

The tall man smiled. "My name is Allanon, I am as you have no doubt seen, a magic user. I am the last of my order. I am a druid."

Both dwarves started at this, one's eyes went wide as small plates and the other swore.

"Surprised? I don't doubt. However it is true. And you two dwarves are not here mearly by chance." Allanon turned to the boy. "I am here for you boy, and they are here because it was forseen that I would need them. So do you gentlemen have any questions?" he asked.

Kharad looked at the other dwarf. "Aye, thot'll be meh unless there be other dwarves on horses here. And you get used t'em iffa you be needin' speed an' 'ave no other choice." A pause. "The name's Kharrrad," he said, keeping it simple and not too revealing.

Then the magic-user spoke. A druid? Didn't druids protect nature or something? Like...trees? What were they doing throwing fireballs around? Wasn't that kinda...counterproductive?

Needless to say, Kharad was a bit confused. "I still don't know wot's 'appenin' here, drrruid. Wot do ya mean we're here because you be needin' us?"

"Aye," Thorin said in agreement to Kharrad's statement. "I din't kno about foreseen 'r not, but I be 'ere fer a drink."

Battle always made Thorin thirsty - even though he had drunk half a barrel of ale recently, the short skirmish made want another drink.

Looking from the bar to Allanon, Thorin decided to hold off for a minute so Allanon could explain what he meant. "What ye be talkin' about Druiids and te boy and ferseen..."

"I am sure that both of yoy have seen, as of about 4-5 days ago, a great dark storm covered the sky. This was no mere storm. It was the sign of a re-born evil, of the unleashing of a force so terrible that it could cover all the Anak Dur i its power for eternity. I am speaking of course, of the new rise of the Daemon Lord Kar-Vaurin," said Allanon. The dwarves who had been drinking their ale spluttered slitghtly.

Galen frowned. "I thought that was a story tale, meant to scare children."

"This is much more than a mere scary story, young Galen, and because of who you are you are meant to be a very large part of it,"said Allanon with a calm face.

"Wot's so specil 'bout the yung one?" asked Kharad. The large dwarf looked down at the young man, Galen shifted slightly uncomfortable with such scrutiny.

"He is important, because he is the last in a long line of decent from the High King Caendros."

Galen laughed. "No I'm not Allanon, your age must be getting to your wits, I'm the son of a farmer and the grandson of a farmer and so on and so forth. Always have been."

"It was just before the final battle that King Caendros met one final time with his wife. In that time he, without knowing, concieved a fourth son. Only his wife your great great great great great grandmother, and a few trusted servants knew. When the battle came and with Caendros and his three known sons dead with him, it was thought the royal line broken. And because there were still many powerful servants of Kar-Vaurin were still abroad and seeking to destroy uttering the house of the High Kings. So Caendros's wife went into hiding and took the place as a farmers wife, and from then on the line was mantained by, and the secret entrusted to my order.

"And now with the daemons return, you must rise from the shadows and retake your throne and your hereditary rights, and help in the effort to vanquish for all time, the daemon Kar-Vaurin," said Allanon.

"Well 'ats a wee bit rough on the boy," Thorin commented.

"Now I don't know about tha validity of yer claim," said Kharad. "But if it be true, then it's obviously no secret no more. Those things outside came 'ere fer him," he pointed a stubby finger at Galen. "If tha daemon lord really has been freed, then tha boy won't be havin' much time ta do all 'ee needs ta do before there be a legion o' beasties comin' afta 'im. 'Specially when thot fight we just had woke up half tha town." He looked over at the inn's owner, who was in turn looking at Galen in seeming shock. "Now everyone'll be knowin' about 'im."

The dwarf lifted up his rune hammer, banging the butt of the shaft on the table. To Galen, he said, "Prove t' me you're who he claims ya ta be." A glance at Allanon. "An' I'll come along ta protect ya. I don't know much about tha affairs o' tha world, but I know somethin' baaad's 'appenin'. Aye, I know thot much. An' iffin' it be tha return of tha daemon lord, then I'll be doin' whot I can ta help stop 'im."

Von Homer, a Moor, walked along the litle beaten down path towards the mainland. He walked past the new walls being constructed and the young troops eager to strut their stuff. He was walking to see the world, after a few decades of self governece and keeping themsleves slightly cold to the outside world. With the dawn of the new the Moorish High Command was setting out observers, troops, and diplomats to accustom themselves to the world. If it would work out is another thing.....

"Now I don't know about tha validity of yer claim," said Kharad. "But if it be true, then it's obviously no secret no more. Those things outside came 'ere fer him," he pointed a stubby finger at Galen. "If tha daemon lord really has been freed, then tha boy won't be havin' much time ta do all 'ee needs ta do before there be a legion o' beasties comin' afta 'im. 'Specially when thot fight we just had woke up half tha town." He looked over at the inn's owner, who was in turn looking at Galen in seeming shock. "Now everyone'll be knowin' about 'im."

The dwarf lifted up his rune hammer, banging the butt of the shaft on the table. To Galen, he said, "Prove t' me you're who he claims ya ta be." A glance at Allanon. "An' I'll come along ta protect ya. I don't know much about tha affairs o' tha world, but I know somethin' baaad's 'appenin'. Aye, I know thot much. An' iffin' it be tha return of tha daemon lord, then I'll be doin' whot I can ta help stop 'im."

"Those creatures were not after the boy, but after me," said Allanon. "Kar-Vaurin does not yet know that the line of Caendros still exists. If he did, then he would indeed send his minions after Galen. But for now the secret it safe."

"Then why the 'ell we they aftur yu?" asked Kharad.

"Because of who I am. My order is known as 'The Order of the Heavenly Flame' and it was the five grand masters, once in the past during the great battle that first entrapped Kar-Vaurin, and thus led to the initial victory. But because the Five were too weak they were not able to fully vanquish the daemon, only to keep him in a hellish existence."

"Well that's a purty title there, but tha' don't explain how this boy is of Caendros's line!" Kharad said. He gave another sharp look at Galen.

"I can prove that only in one way. And that is to go to the ancient halls of Morlingaard. There in ancient times was a stronghold of dwarves, the Iron Dwarves Clan once held mastery there. In times past when they above all held the best of metal smiths forged for Caendros a suit of armor, the Heavenly Mantle, made from gold, silver, steel, iron, brass, and mithril. It was and is forever the greatest achievement of the dwarves. You Kharad know of it, for your own people once lived near there. And you Thorin, decendant of the High Middle Mountain Dwarves (High King of the Dwarves location) knew of its creation. It was in times when men, dwarves, and elves were in better shape and kindness than that of today.

"That suit of armor, is the suit that was made only for Caendros and his line. After his death, the dwarves took it back to their halls saying in prophecy that one would come in the end to regain it. Since it has remained in their vaults beneath the mountain," Allanon said. "It is a long journey which we must make, for you Galen," Allanon looked at the boy. "-must regain it. For without it, all hope is lost."

"I'm not afraid," said Galen. He was surprised to find his voice was not shaking. Allanon smiled at him, then turned to the dwarves.

"I know that it is not your responsbility to come with me, but I ask you come to act as guardians. I may not always be there to guide the boy, and you as dwarves best know the paths to your own halls."

"Aye... 'hat I do," Thorin replied.

After a moments thought he said with a grin. "I wil' 'company ye on one condition: there had better be 'nuf for te both of us te fight. Besides... couldn't 'urt te get me axes sharpened."

"I can indeed promise you enough fighting. But before we go to the mountains we will need to stop at the city of Valenor. However strong you two are, even you Kharad with your hammer, we still need others to join our party," said Allenon, he turned to Galen.

"It is best Galen to go to your house and collect your clothes, pack, and food for the journey then come back here, alright? I have other things to discuss with the dwarves. Once you tell your father why you must leave he will understand."

Galen nodded numbly and left.

Thadius awoke with a start. He grabbed the flask of whiskey at his hip and downed the remainder. He could never remember the dreams being so bad that he couldn't drink them away. Ever since the red in the sky they had grown worse. Dreams of violence, blood, and fire. Of horrible creatures rending flesh of elves, dwarves, and man. Sometimes he was amongst the torured, but in the really bad ones, the dreams of late, he was one of the monsters frolicking in the carnage.

He huddled into his blue, wool cloak and clenched his sword. He needed more money for whiskey or brandy. The last job that had paid well was the one from that Arcune character. Thinking of Arcune made him shudder. The man always seemed as if he knew more about him than Thadius did himself. He had handed over that item from the tomb, took the pay he had doubted he would recieve, and left never looking back.

The young man who huddled against a tree, with disheveled shoulder length black hair, and the beginings of a beard, stared at the empty road. Awaiting the sunrise, he knew he would get no more sleep tonight.

(OOC: Is it too late to start? This has caught my interest.)

"Morlingaaaard!?" Kharad exclaimed, again banging the butt of his weapon's handle on the table. "Are ya mad? Do you know why my people left thot region? Morlingaard's overrrrun weth a horde o' horrrrors tha likes ye've neva seen! Entire armies of dwarves were lost to 'em, and you expect us t' come daaancin' in an' retrieve tha 'eavenly Maaant-el?"

He turned to Galen. "Listen ta meh, boy. If ya go there, it'da be tha laaast thing ya do. It's pure suicide! An' it'll take at least 'alf a yea' ta reach thot place. Imagine tha army tha daemon lord can amass in thot time!"

"I'm not afraid," said Galen to both Allanon and Kharad.

"Bah!" said the dwarf.

When Galen left to gather his belongings, Kharad turned to the other two present. "You're all fools if ya ask meh. But if ya want t' throw yer lives away, then be my guest. I know I won't be takin' no part in this fool's errrrand."

He stood up and headed toward his room, not listening to anything the other two might be saying to try to persuade him otherwise.


OOC: Probably not too late yet, Kalios. We haven't even reached Valenor yet, which is where all our heroes are to meet up.

"Whot kin' of dwarfff 're ye," Thorin exclaimed as he stood up from the table. "I would ratha' die fightin' than live knowin' I ran frum a faight."

"Ah live one who knows how ta pick 'is baaat-els wisely ratha than fight everythin' thot crosses 'is paaath," came Kharad's shout from the second floor. "If I die, I die fightin' somethin' worth fightin' for an' not fer some foolish suicide mission!" A door slammed, and nothing more could be heard of Kharad.

A tall, hooded, and cloaked figure stepped through the doorway of the inn, his boots making loud *thud* noises against the hard wooden floor, enough to be heard over any relative noise in the inn. If his stature hadn't have been so large, he might have went through unnoticed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled a rather long pipe and a small wad of tobacco, lighting it with a small match. He had heard the argument about going to Morlingaard between the dwarf and the man from the Order, and smiled under his shadowed features as he strode to the table they were seated at. He took one large puff from his pipe, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"Mine apologeesssss... I couldn'nt help but hearr that you two arre having a prroblem with wherre you arre decccciding wherre to go..."

The figure took another puff from his pipe before letting his hood down behind his neck, revealing his scarred, but unearthly pretty and reptilian face, half covered by damp, jet black hair. He smiled, the scars on his face moving with him.

"I mussssst apologisssse again... I haff ffailled to intdroduce mineselff... Mine name isssss Ral-Issssta-Kimassss (Ral-Ista-Kimas), Ral for ssssshorrt, and I would like to offer mine ssssservicccesssss to yourr causssse."

He made a low bow, and brought his hood back over his head, placing his pipe on the edge of his lips.

"Ah live one who knows how ta pick 'is baaat-els wisely ratha than fight everythin' thot crosses 'is paaath," came Kharad's shout from the second floor. "If I die, I die fightin' somethin' worth fightin' for an' not fer some foolish suicide mission!" A door slammed, and nothing more could be heard of Kharad.

"He speaks of foolishnes'," Thorin said as he turned back to Allanon. "Whot mission coul' be morrr worth et than this'?"

"Certain-ly not any dwarf I kno'," he said as he sat back down.

snip

Thorin turned to see the figure enter. As he saw the figure's face he recoiled slightly. "An' whot beast 're ye suppose' te be."

Ral bowed his head low, beneath his hood, he hissed.

"I amm... whatt you 'moderrn' people calll mee, a 'lizzzzard-man', but inn myy naatif tongue, we calll oursssssellvesssss thee 'Hagedisssss' (Hagedis)."

His voice became a lower, more somber version of the one he had greeted them with.

"I amm... asssss far asssss I knnow... the lassssst of my kindd."

Allanon frowned at the stranger. "Perhaps, for now if you will be so kind as to leave and perhaps meet us in the morning here on the morrow. Then I will give you an answer," said Allanon. He turned to Kharad.

"You Kharad know of what I speak when concerning the Morlingaard mountains. But we will not cross the thousands of leagues to get there. No, we will simply seek some companions in Valinor then take ship and travel down the river to the city of Erebar Piscal. There we will again get boarding on a larger ship and sail along the coast until we reach the Bay of Moffet. From there we would attempt the mountains. We would save ourselves from a years journey and make it in a short 60-70 days, Gods willing we have fair weather," Allanon said. "Now will you come?"

Kar-Vaurin, standing in his human form, looked over the Moor of Lost Lands. It was dark, and the air was thick with a heavy fog created from the mire and moisture of it's waters. He smiled as he remembered a time when the swamp had been an open plain, a place where great ancient armies of men had faught one another over it's produce and riches. Now it was nothing more than a waste-land, a mocking symbol of how fruitless such human squables for land were.

He turned and saw Arcune stepping forward. His servant had sent a message to his own lackeys in the Man city of Valenor. Kar-Vaurin did not care for such things, he left it to Arcune to such devices. The man bowed before Vaurin. "Lord, we must not straggle here. I have my sevants preparing at the Stones. It will soon be time to summon back your forces," the kneeling man said.

"No need to worry Arcune, all is in time with my plans. And now I think I will raise the first of my new army," the daemon said, finally coming to a conclusive thought. He stepped over to the swamp and walked into it's murky depths until he stood waste deep.

He closed his eyes and began a low murmur of chanting. "In-can-tu-larl-in-carn-kurl-var-cin-dau-cooooo..." he chanted. A great witchlight appeared around Vaurin, a red glow caught up around him, causing the water to bubble. He kept chanting. The sky thundered, and clouds swirled in a spire turning strait above Vaurin.

"Kar-Kun!" he screamed in his true daemonic voice. A great white lightning bolt came down from the spire of clouds and struck into the swamp. The water burst, receeding away from the spot where the lightning had struck, until the swamp was now empty and left only the muddy gorund.

Nothing happened. Arcune looked around, surprised by this turn of plans and wondered what his master was doing. Suddenly his answer came.

From the earth, squelching from the mud and earth, came large human-like forms. At first Arcune could not make out what they were, then the swamp water began returning and it washed away the mud, and there standing bear were human skeletons. Some were in old and crumpled armor, others had iron rusted helmuts on their skulls, some held high bent and rusty swords, spears, or axes. Kar-Vaurin stepped back onto the bank and watched as his newly risen host of warriors stepped onto the bank. He had summoned the dead of ancient battles.

"My warriors...come!" he called. From the swamp marched several hundred skeleton warriors. An unearthly red light was in their eye sockets, giving them life.

http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/undead.jpg

Arcune was shocked by such a show of magic. Even he, a well trained necromancer and mage, did not know such powerful spells. Kar-Vaurin turned to his servant. "Now we may go to the Stones."

Past dunes of sands, 'cross racing fords,
There is a land called Morlingaard.
In days of ire, when darkness rise,
There burns a fire from man's demise.
A king shall come, a line thought dead,
To fight the sum that Evil led.
He lifts his suit, he dons it on,
Despite pursuit from Evil's pawns.

But all is lost, they all shall fail;
This is the cost, when this dwarf bails.
For underground, are many trapped;
Not e'en a hound could get it mapped.
Yet in this maze, he knows his way;
When all are fazed, he has the sway.
For in his home, his home of old,
This dwarf alone could guide the fold.

***

With a shout of rage, Kharad lifted his rune hammer and dashed a nearby wooden chair to splinters with a single strike. He knew what he had to do. The loremasters' song was clear now. But he did not like any of it one tiny bit.

Disgruntled, the dwarf turned around a stamped back to where the others were while giving the lizard-man an unfriendly look. "Grrreat, so we die soon'r ratha than late'r," he said to Allanon, dryly. "I'll go, but only iff I lead us through Morlingaard. If ya're so insistant on dying, y' might as well know where you're goin' when ya do."

Kharad then glared at Ral. He did not trust the lizard. It looked more like a minion of the daemon lord than an ally, after all. "Are ya still here?" he pointedly asked.

(OOC: I'm still in school at the moment. I'll be gone soon. BTW, can Kar-Vaurin have something personal to do with Ral? I mean like the Hagedis being former servants of KV, but were eliminated because he thought they were "useless", or something like that. It's up to you.)

IC:

Ral silently bowed his head to Allanon, knowing he was not as welcome as he thought he was, even if he tried his best to be friendly.

"I ssssshalll meett you here at firssssst lightt."

As he turned to leave, Kharad smashed his rune hammer, an explosion of splinters flying in every direction. He was upset, but cast an even more unfriendly look at Ral. Kharad told Allanon he would go, but only if he lead the group. He then returned his glare to Ral, even more unfriendly than the last look. I only want to be of use, thought Ral. "Are ya still here?" the dwarf pointedly asked. At this point, Ral ceased being friendly, and just wished to piss off the tempermental dwarf.

"I amm ssssstilll in yourr sssssight, amm I nott, littlle dwarrff?"

Before Kharad could react, Ral left, knowing his head would probably be mush if he didn't leave immediately. As he left, he realized that he had done something incredibly ill-advised. He shook his head, took one last puff of tobacco, and headed for the owner, who returned the same look as Kharad did.

"Onne room... pleassssse..."

OOC: I was thinking along the same lines, Kalios. Although I pictured it as Kar-Vaurin's forces were in disarray after his banishment, and the Hagedis were hunted down and slaughtered by parts of the anti-Kar-Vaurin armies. What few that escaped went into hiding, and the race was forgotten by your average commoner so that not many people today would realize that Ral's people used to be servants of Kar-Vaurin. But yeah, up to Thrashia.

(Note, the demon refers to all non-demons as 'its')

The demon chuckled to himself after another day, the Elf had almost seen him this time but he was smart enough to stay out of sight.
He had been sent to stalk the elf and to kill it if it saw him, but so far the latter part hadn't been required.
He had followed it since it left the forest, he knew it could sense something wrong around it but couldn't locate him.
As far as demons went it was short and lean, a lesser demon who would not normally be needed however he had that gift other demons lacked, stealth, queitly he hunted his prey and when they rested for a time he would sneak up behind them and with a shard crack snap their neck, or hack them apart with his short, cleaver like weapon.
With another grin it folded it's wings about itself and settled down in a loose thicket of woods.

Laphilion looked wearily around him, something was following him and he didn't know what it was but he knew it was there.
He still moved on through the night but he knew he had to rest somewhere, sometime.
He had seen only a dark blur and shadow whenever he looked for his pursuer, if that at all, it worried him that it could evade his above average Elf senses for it couldn't be a normal creature.
Up ahead he say the lights of a large village, one that would likely have a few good horses to sell and someplace to stay the night and hopefully lose his pursuer.
With a sigh Laphilion changed to a light jog and headed on toward the towns lights.

"Well this ought te be a pleasan' journe'," Thorin commented as he watched the lizard man walk away.

Sometin' about 'hat one...

"'f ya got nothin' else te say... I will be goin' te bed now," he commented as he felt tired and drowsy. Getting up from the table, he grabbed his massive axe and climbed slowly up the stairs.

OOC: Great minds think alike, I had a similair idea concerning the lizard-man. Thats a fine idea. As of right now, I am trying to pull ideas from several different fantasy series and my own imagination and past DM and D&D games to get this thing going. I would think some of you might have noticed several names or things inside of the story so far that you might have read in some other series. And Rhinara, your writing reminds me of the 'Gotrek and Felix' novels by GW, any connection there? or just good at dwarves?

ooc: lol, I such at Dwarven speech... I have no idea why I chose one (d'oh). I think I am going to have him die valiantly in battle (later in the story) and introduce an elf or faerie.

OOC: Hehe, yeah I noticed the Shannara influence. I hope I left time vague enough that whenever you guys approach Valenor(sp?) I could be on the road there.

Von Homer had been walking along for quite a while. He meet many people on his travels and sent daily reports through one of the Moors many inventions, a mirror which reflected another scene, from the other mirror. He had many adventures, drew drawings; paint, pencil, and charcoal pictures. One of the newest creatures he found included the great elves whom he was with for a brief stint. Of all of these Von Homer was still mostly fascinated by the sea and it's creatures.

OOC: Hehe, yeah I noticed the Shannara influence. I hope I left time vague enough that whenever you guys approach Valenor(sp?) I could be on the road there.

OOC: I love that series, can't wait for the next book too. Anyway, thats perfectly fine N. Fenris, we'll be getting along soon. I'm kinda in a tight spot with my FT nation (war with CW who is US, really confusing and a long story) and I might not be able to post as often in here. But thanks all you guys for being here thus far.

OOC: Never heard of it until now, Thrashia. Since Allanon hasn't answered Kharad, I can't really do much at the moment unless I assume an affirmative answer, but I'm not really a fan of assuming things about other people's characters. By the way, my availability would be a bit sketchy for the upcoming week, up until next Saturday, at least, so you guys don't have to wait up for me. I'll just post whenever I get the opportunity to. Laters.

"I will speak with the lizard now. Kharad, I thank you for agreeing to come. I know we will be safe in your hands to guide us when we reach the mountains. Now, go and rest and we will begin our treck in the morning," said Allanon. The surly dwarf nodded, threw the hodded lizard man a nasty distrusting look, then stomped upstairs.

Allanon turned to the Lizard man. "You say you wish to help...why?"

bump

ooc: Thorin has gone upstairs for sleep, so you will have to advance the story and I will have him get involved.

ooc: Still out on the road, or in otherwords, bump.

OOC: Sure, I'll do that soon enough.

Galen walked back to his father's house in stunned silence. His feet felt like lead, walking like a dead man. Yet he was alive, and he had just been told something impossible.

He saw again Allanon's face as he spoke. "You Galen are of a long line of decendants from the High King Caendros. You are heir to the throne of Anak Dur."

Galen stared up into the night sky, trying to find meaning in the black star dotted canvas before him. The stars were beautiful tonight, clearer than ever. Galen looked back down upon his path and kept thinking. "I'm...the heir...of Caendros?" He asked himself over and over again, and yet Allanon himself had said it was true. The dwarves even had accepted Allanon's tale.

He rounded a bend in the road and saw down nestled in a small nitch on the hillside, his home. The windows were shining with light, as he knew his father was inside cooking dinner. His mother would be in her chair with her thread and needle, repairing father and his clothes.

He walked-stumbled to the door and stepped inside. He father looked up from where he stood by the mantle, a large spoon in hand with steaming soup in it. He seemed to be tasting some. He looked in suprise up at Galen as he entered. Galen stepped inside and went to the far side of the room where a table with three chairs sat. His mother, still fair looking with long brown hair and still smooth skin, sat in one already, a thread and needle in hand.

"Welcome home son, I had begun to think you would stay at the inn all night!" said his father. Galen looked up at his father, Drualt, and looked deep into those grey iron eyes. His father frowned.

"What's wrong my boy?"

"Father...I-I met a man...in the inn. I was attacked, and he saved me. Don't worry I wasn't hurt, but he told me something. H-he told me that...I..am a decendant of the High King Caendros," Galen said simply. He looked to the ground quickly.

He heard the soup ladle fall, and his mother's wooden thimble fall to the floor as well. He looked up. His father had not even denied what Galen had said, instead he stood looking as if he was guilty of some horrible crime. He turned to his mother, she too was looking as if Galen had told her he had found her cheating.

"My son, what was the name of this man?" asked Drualt, he looked hard at his son.

"He said his name was Allanon." Drualt sat heavily on small stool behind him. He sighed.

"So, at last he comes."

"What do you mean 'at last'?" asked Galen. He was shocked that his fathe knew the name.

"It has been passed down from father to son in our family, for the last 9 generations, how we come from the hidden and forgotten line of Caendros, a direct line. I was going to tell you, when you were old enough to understand. But now I see that you already are old enough." He smiled ruefully at his son. "What is it Allanon said he will do with you?"

"He said we are to journey, to the mountains. To seek some sort of armour or something...and he said that some daemon king had arisen again," Galen said, suddenly remembering that part.

His father nodded, looking even more solemn than before. "Yes, He would not have come unless it was because of that. Yes. Well my son," Drualt stood and put his hands on his sons shoulders and looked into his eyes. "You must make this journey, take this adventure, and in the end you must take the throne as well. It has now come to the last when the last line of Caendros must reapear. I cannot give you any other words of kindness other than that."

"B-but I don't want to go!"

"You must!" Galen was shocked. His mother had never spoken in such an authoritive tone since he was a child in need of scolding. He looked at her. Her brow was furrowed in thought, as she looked at he son. "If you do not, then Kar-Vaurin will rise again, and then all of Anak Dur will be swallowed in shadow. But you can stop it."

"I can't I'm just Galen! Simply old, no use, dreamer, Galen!"

"Be that as it may, you must go," said Adriel. She looked into her son and saw the fear in his eyes. She turned to her husband. "I think it is time that he inhereted what we have kept secret."

Her husband nodded. He walked to the hearth. The fire was blazing. With a prong he pushed back the few pieces of flaming wood. Then, pulling with a great heave, he pulled up a hot stone that had been part of the fire place. To Galen's amazement there was a small area of clear space. His father coughed as dust came up from it. He swept his hands, clearing the smoke, then pulled out something. He came forth with a large box covered in oil skins. He walked to the table and set it down.

"I was told by my father, and his father before him, that before King Caendros left his wife for the final battle, he gave her a gift." He pulled off the protective oil skins and then opened the box. Galen couldn't see inside of it. "It was to be a gift for the child that she might carry. I'm not sure if Caendros expected to die, he may have, and been secure in the fact that one of his sons would carry on; not knowing that they would all die even before him. But it was a gift which the Queen took with her into hiding, and has since been passed down through all our generations." He pulled out a small gold object.

"The Ring of Caendros." The ring was beautiful, of wrought gold intertwined with mithril silver. A center plate at its head was a flate disk of gold, and put into it were several blood red rubies forming a symbol.

"A trident?" asked Galen. He held the ring in his hand gently. A trident made of rubies was set in the gold disk. His father smiled.

"It was King Caendros's personal signet and symbol of authority. The elves are said to have given it to him. While they did not have the skill that dwarves had in the works of metal, their finery such as this were beyond the skill of all the races."

Galen nodded. He slipped the ring onto his finger, and to his alarm it shrunk, but stopped and fit perfectly. His father smile broadened. "It was made by the eloves after-all."

"But father I don't know what I'm suppose to do!" said Galen. He still didn't want to believe it, that he was a real prince. His father brow furrowed as he frowned.

"All you must do is listen carefully to Allanon. Keep by him, stay safe, and listen. Learn all you can, and you will save yourself," said Drualt. "Now, you will leave in the morning, and you must be tired and hungry. So let us finish supper."

Galen sat there looking down at the ring. He really was a prince, the heir to the throne of High King. He ate with his family then quickly fell into a deep sleep when he finished.

Dawn came early.

bump

Thorin awoke as he normally did, right as the sun rose above the hills. The sun's rays pierced through the window and hit his eyelids like a match hits an oil tank. He was up immediately and full with energy the likes of which were rarely seen in a dwarf. The sound of his heavy body landing on the floor after he lept out of bed echoed throughout the tavern. Seconds after his loud morning roar boomed throughout his room as he woke himself up.

After dressing and strapping on his weapons, Throin made his way downstairs and into the main room. He looked around for the others he would be journeying with before making his way over to the bar and getting his regular morning drink.

Allanon stepped into the common room of the inn, and saw the dwarf Thorin at the bar drinking from a large stein. He smiled and walked over to him. "Good morning good Thorin, sleep well?"

The dwarf didn't stop drinking, just nodded and kept on chugging.

"Good, we'll wait for Kharad, then we'll go on down the road. We will no doubt be meeting Galen there."

"Aye," is all Thorin said before lifting the mug and draining the contents. Slamming it down on the counter, he wiped his mouth off and hopped up.

Moving over to a table where he had more room, Thorin sat down at a seat. Pulling out each of his throwing axes, he checked them for durability and sharpness before returning them to their spots. Then he removed his giant axe from around his neck and looked at the blade, "Well this 'ere won' do one bit." He reached into his pocket and removed a oddly shaped stone with a ridge in its center. He began rubbing the stone over the axe's blade and continued sharpening it.

Bump/wait for others....

Kharad barely slept at all that night, what with the things going on and all. Plus, the chilly breeze coming in through his broken window did not help much. Not even with his table turned on its side and leaning up against where the window was. Bloody drafts.

Kharad gave up on trying to sleep before the sun rose, choosing instead to pull his belongings out of his pack. Most of it was heavy leather armor, with a smattering of mail pieces here and there. The metal armor he began polishing, as well as his weapons. Chances were that he would be wearing his armor a lot in the following months, and having rusty armor was no way to go into battle. No siree.

He was just about finished when he heard a loud thud, and he grabbed his closest weapon, which was the axe he was polishing, and looked around warily.

Nothing.

Probably just a drunken fat dwarf tripping and falling down or something.

But just to be safe...

Kharad secured his armor onto himself, took up his weapons, and went downstairs. His eyes were bloodshot, and his mood even more sour than the night before. Without acknowledging Thorin and Allanon, he ordered some food with no booze - yet, at least. But his eyes immediately darted over to the newcomer as Ral reentered the bar room. Watching the lizard with suspicion, he joined the other two in his party to hear what Ral had to say.

ooc: the return of Rhinara, glad to have you back.

"Ah! Kharad, good. We're all here. It seems you had a restless night my friend," said Allanon. Kharad pulled up a chair and ordered an ale. He gave a hard bloodshot eye'd look at Allanon.

"You cou' say that."

Allanon nodded, then turned to the Lizard man. "Well sir, your offer is indeed tempting, and I will be taking you up on it. Though I may ask you to leave the group some-where down the line; if you understand what I mean?"

ooc: just a note/question. Would it be possible for us to get into another battle soon (I would like to kill of Thorin and bring in a new character - I am no good at writing the speech of a dwarf)?

(OOC: Sorry for being out. I had just gotten Rome: Total War, and was distracted for a while, but I'm here now.)

Ral turned toward the group of men that eyed him carefully. He was happy that he was to accompany them on their quest, but was wary that he would be unaccepted as a "true" member of the party. Slowly, he lifted his pipe to his thin lips, poked another fingerful of tobacco into it, and lit it up, blowing a billow of smoke into the air.

"I tthankk youu forr acccccepptting mee intto yourr bandd."

Ral looked at each man. Allanon looking for an answer, Thorin sharpening his axe as he stared through Ral, and Kharad eating some food, almost to tired to acknowledge anyone. I will be faced with the same prejudice as I always have known. Nothing his going to change. He pulled up a seat and looked back at Allanon, his slitted eyes growing thinner as the sun peered into the inn.

I will be looked at with suspicion. I won't be surprised if Thorin 'accidentally' sliced my tail off. Ral looked back at Thorin. His gaze hadn't faltered, and continued to stare into his eyes.

What if they find out about my heritage? They will kill me for sure... but it's not like I had much to live for... Before he even realized it, the tobacco in his pipe was finished. He dumped the remnants of the still burning tobacco excess, and crushed it in his hands. The smoldering embers burned his hand, but he was used to the pain. It was nothing new, and it was almost his friend.

"Andd I underrsssssstandd if you wisssssshh mee tto leeavve att somme pointt. Thorrinn overr therre isssssn't exxxaccttlyy thee frrienddliessssst perrssssonn tto meeeett."

Thorin chuckled at this comment and continued to sharpen his axe.

"Butt yessssss... I willl asssssissssstt you asssss mucch to myy abbillitiesssss."

Ral reached into his cloak, and pulled out an intricately designed dagger. The blade core was made of blackened mitril, the edging was serrated, and was made of polished silver. The hilt was steel, with designs made of onyx etched into the indents. He dropped the burning ashes onto the ground and looked at his hand. His scaled skin was slightly blackened, with some exposed pink muscle.

"I mussssst appollogizzzzze if I disssssturbb anyyonne... butt..."

Ral carved into his burnt hand, much to the shock of Allanon and Thorin.

"What are you doing, man?" Allanon nearly shouted.

" 'e's expectin' a pity storr'y!" Thorin yelled.

"Ssssssssssssssh!" Ral hissed, his forked tongue flicking out of his mouth. "You'll ruinn my sssssstorry."

As he finished carving into his hand, he revealed his wound to the others. The carving crawled... snaked it's way up his arm. Once it reached his sleeve, the wound was gone. The others looked at him, disturbed and puzzled.

"The 'ell just 'appened?! Wha' the 'ell did ye do that forr?!" Thorin exclaimed.

"I agree! What was that about?!" Allanon queried.

Ral looked at the others, and smiled. "Mmanny menn carrry jourrnalllsssssss. Ottherrssssss hhavve hissssssttorriannsssssss. Eevenn morre havve ssssssonngssssss. I havve sssssccarrssssss."

He reached for his shirt, and slowly unbuttoned it. At the last button, he slowly parted his shirt. A whole slew of runes, apparently carved, were in his skin, slithering up and down his body. Before anyone answered, he covered himself up.

"Thatt'sssssss ennoughh frromm meee... I'm ssssssurre I havve frrighttenedd youu morre thann I sssssshouldd havve."

(OOC: Maybe Thorin and Ral could have some time alone from the group, where Thorin gets into a fight with Ral. Thorin would die, and Ral would return to the group. A little bit later is where I could get "dropped" off.)

(OOC: not a must-read more just a little bit of RPing so you know I'm still in it)

The night had seen little happen to Laphillion, except a lot of looks from villagers who seldom encountered an elf.
The night before had been a simple issue of paying for his room and telling the Innkeeper would be leaving at dawn, in truth he was going to leave as soon as he had a mount.
He had talked to a few men about a horse that morning, many farmers were already arriving in the markets to sell their goods and others such as weavers and craftsmen were also setting up stalls and there were a few animals of worthy quality being sold.

Laphillion inspected the stables in which he now stood, they were well built and sturdy, a short dark man at his side directed him to the next horse.

The man, by name of Adam Kiric, was of the highest repute among breeders or so he claimed, he had encountered a few elves before but had never sold something to them.

"Sir, if you will this is one of my finest, he's young and strong, I bred him and trained him myself and I doubt you will find a faster horse in all of Dragonia" Adam said gesturing to a large and deep chested grey horse.

"Once again I must refuse, he looks short on the stamina I require for my journey" Laphillion said politely, the man had shown him five other horses but all lacked one or another trait they would require for the long journey.

"If you will I would have it that you direct me to your finest, I am sure it will be within my means to pay, but be warned Human, I know horses and should you attempt to cheat me you will fail" Laphillion said narrowing his eyes.

"Very well sir, have it that way, please follow me" the short man said and walked past four more horses and out through another door.

He stopped outside a smaller stable "I must warn you sir, if you aren't an accomplished rider you should reconsider and I'll gladly sell you one of my other horses, I still have more than a dozen I'm willing to sell you that you haven't seen" Adam said with an uneasy smile.

"I am indeed a skilled horseman and I will likely find any other mount unsuitible for my journey, please lead on" Laphillion said trying not to clench his teeth at the smaller man's constant babble.

"Alright then" Adam said and opened the doors they walked for a moment and came to a large stall, inside a large and powerful horse dwelt and upon seeing the two figures it let out a loud neigh and stomped the earth.

Laphillion examined the animal, it was white maned with a body of dark silvery-grey, he could see even from his distance that it was the animal he was looking for, it was powerful and it's body showed signs of great endurance.

With another loud neigh the animal shook its head.

"Well are you happy with it? I don't blame you if you want to go for a different animal, this one has a dreadful temper on him, he bit my son when was feeding 'im yesterday and the last man to try and ride him broke an arm and was nearly trampled to death.
I'd of simply got rid of him but I was going to use him for breeding stock, maybe with a few generations I could of eased his temper" Adam said with a sigh.

Laphillion raised an eyebrow and looked at the animal again "You were right, he is a very fine horse, I'll take him how much do you want for him?" He asked.

With a surprised look Adam spoke "Very well sir...Well I would charge fifty gold pieces for him and the riding equipment but seeing as he has such a temper and if you manage to ride him for more than a moment the Gods themselves must favour you I'll sell him to you for twenty gold pieces including the riding equipment.

"A fair trade by my measure you have a deal" Laphillion said with a nod and handed his gold to the man, it was more than he wanted to pay but he still had a fair weight of coin about him.

"I'll fetch your equipment, but first we should lead this one out" Adam said and moved to unlatch the stall door just as his hand touched the latch the horse moved to bite him and he jumped back.

"You may go and get the equipment, I'll handle this" Laphillion said and with a quick movement unlatched the door as Adam quickly exited the building.

The horse moved in on the much smaller elf but stopped short of him, it stood in the isle staring at Laphillion.

"Now, now my friend no need for violence is there?" Laphillion said with a smile and patted the animal on the nose.

"Now come, I have importnat business to be about...I think and you are going to help me" He said and lead it out of the stable, as a child and young man he had been complemented with his ability with animals and it had not gone away throughout his life, he was still young by elven standards but had he been a person he would be a very old man if alive at all.

Laphillion lead the horse out and patted him then gestured for Adam to saddle him, it was true he could have ridden without a saddle but he planned to stock up on supplies and saddlebags would supply him with more room than he could carry alone.

After the animal was set for riding Adam drew him aside "How'd you do that? He nearly took my hand off and yet he doesn't even make a sound near you?" he asked.

"It's a gift I suppose you'd name it" Laphillion said and then continued "may I inquire as to his name?"

"What? The horse? my daughter called him Silverfire but he doesn't respind to it anymore than another so feel free to name him what you want" Adam said.

"I'll keep that name, I think it suits him, farewell Adam Kiric" Laphillion said and began to lead his new horse away.

"Goodbye Elf and good luck on your journey.

Laphillion lead his horse back to market, he still needed to find some more items before he began to head off again and he was enjoying the lack of his watcher.

OOC: DMG, if you could wait until we reach Valenor? I was planning for agents of Kar-Vaurin's to find Allanon. And I'm going to introduce some other characters there as well. So Thorin could die in that fight perhaps, and your character can enter similar to the others I will have enter.

OOC: DMG, if you could wait until we reach Valenor? I was planning for agents of Kar-Vaurin's to find Allanon. And I'm going to introduce some other characters there as well. So Thorin could die in that fight perhaps, and your character can enter similar to the others I will have enter.

ooc: okay, no problem

OOC: Kalios, keep in mind that Allanon would most likely not act in the manner you protrayed him as. He's a mage after all, and has lived for at least a century even if he doesn't look it. So just remember that.... and if you could, keep the hissing to the letter ssss, not every other word, please, it hurts the eyes to read; not to be insulting of course, its good, just too man extra letters.

IC:

Allanon nodded as the Lizard man buttoned up his shirt. He turned to Kharad who was finishing the last of his meal. He rose from his seat. "Very well, if you are all done we will set out now." With that Allanon turned and walked out of the inn.

He walked over to a tall black charger. The horse sniffed at Allanon. Allanon smiled. he adjusted his long black cloak and jumped into the saddle, his long legs made him seem ackward on a horse.

The other came out of the inn, and as a group they headed down the path out of the small town heading east. Allanon notted the old stone mile marker for when they would run into the boy.

(OOC: Goo' t' be back, lad...err...*coughhackclearthroat* I mean, good to be back, yo.)

IC:

"Grrreat, ah masochist," Kharad muttered to himself, drily. "Well, tha brrright side is thot if we git attaaacked, 'e'll probably staaab 'imself t' death."

The dwarf picked up his belongings and headed to the doorway, but made sure to keep his back away from Ral. "Afta you," he insisted to the lizard.

Upon exiting the inn, Kharad went to the stable where his horse was kept, a chestnut-colored steed, mounted it, and followed after Allanon.

(OOC: My bad. I'll remember that.)

"Well 'ets goh then'" Thorin replied as they exited the inn and Kharad came riding upon his horse. "I can ne'er waits fer battle..."

Ral walked along the road to the milestone marker where Allanon and the others were waiting. The dwarves kept his eyes averted from him, but Allanon gave him a glance.

"The carved runes over your body..." Allanon started... "You are a--"

"Rune sssscriptor, yessss," Ral interrupted. "And not for the reasssson you think."

Allanon leaned in closer. "That is a massive undertaking, Ral-Ista-Kimas..." He looked up and down his body. "... And one that is more painful than any other."

Ral looked away. He could feel the rune-scars crawling uncomfortably underneath his shirt. "Yessss... I know..."

"May I ask why do you undertake this task?" Allanon asked.

Ral looked down at the ground, his hood falling more over his head, his hair extending from beneath the hood in bunched up strands. "I have told you I maybe the lasssst of my kind."

Allanon nodded his head. "The last known Hagedis was supposedly killed just seven and a half years after the banishment of Kar-Vaurin. They were agents for-"

Ral hissed, suddenly angry. "I know what my people are! ... were..." He pulled his hood down for a second, only to bring his hair over his head before he donned his hood again. "That'ssss why I wissssh my sssstory issss told."

One of the dwarves laughed at him. "An' wha' storry is tha'?! Tha' you're a crrazy lizard-man wi' a fe'ish for sharrp objec's?!"

Ral suddenly jerked his head in each dwarves direction. "Ssssilencccce your tongue, fool! You have not sssseen what I have, felt what I have... you will never know!"

Allanon silenced both of them with a look in their direction, then continued. "I understand your plight."

Ral looked at him suddenly, like he suddenly remembered something. "Yessss, but how do you know of my sssspecccciessss?" Allanon simply looked off. "The past is wasted on those who wish to see only the future." Ral nodded underneath his cloak. He knew he was talking about most of the people who lived in Anak Dùr. They didn't like him, but it was because of ignorance, not history. "I ssssee." Ral leaned against the marker and continued to wait.

(OOC: If can, send me a telegram or IM me on AIM (My SN is "Teh Fallen Syn". I wish to see if I can advance more of the story of the Hagedis and Kar-Vaurin w/o messing everything up. And hopefully I RP'd everyone alright.)

[bump]

(OOC: Hey, Thrashia, are you cool with us taking liberties with the plot? Or would you rather keep it strictly following your plan? I figured, since you're busy, the rest of us can keep the RP going ourselves until you can jump in again. We already know the general direction of where this is going, and plus, this way, there'll be some surprises for yourself as well, so you get to have some fun!)

(OOC: Hey, Thrashia, are you cool with us taking liberties with the plot? Or would you rather keep it strictly following your plan? I figured, since you're busy, the rest of us can keep the RP going ourselves until you can jump in again. We already know the general direction of where this is going, and plus, this way, there'll be some surprises for yourself as well, so you get to have some fun!)

ooc: I agree... this RP is going kind of slowly and many of the people haven't been on in a few days. It is probably just because of the holiday season, but I would like to get on with it. If it is okay with you Thrashia, I agree with Rhinara and ask that we be able to move the plot and characters along while still staying in the bounds you have loosely created.

OOC: yea I guess. You can continue it for a while, but I need to be the one to write up the entrance to Valenor. As of right now the party is together travelling to Valenor, everyone.

((ooc: alright... well I would move the RP along, but considering I don't like my character that much, nor do I like controlling other people's characters... in short, I don't want to be the one who moves the RP along - as I could move it too far, or not far enough, etc...))

OOC: Post coming.

Night fell around the horizon of the company as they rode further east. The sun dipping behind them its red-blood colored hues playing about the starry blues of the sky. Allanon and his charges stopped by a small stream beside the road, a small patch of trees that made some shelter and defense for them was there also.

Riding over they all dismounted and led their horses to the small brook, letting them drink their fill, and then filling their own canteens of water. Galen ducked his head into the water, the came back up. “That feels great!” he exclaimed. Allanon thumped him on the head.

“Be quiet young Galen, we have no wish to attract attention of anything here,” the tall dark Druid said. Galen nodded and went back to washing himself up with the cool water of the brook in the fading light. Allanon stalked over to Kharad.

“Keep the first watch, wake me at midnight.” The dwarf nodded, then walked into the shadows and disappeared. Allanon glanced over at the rest of the company. The lizard had moved off to one side of the small clearing and sat covered and hidden in his robes. Thorin sat down and began sharpening one of his long knifes, seeming a daily ritual. Galen came back from the stream, a new shirt on and with mopping wet hair. The young man went over to his pack which was near Thorin and threw himself down on it.

Allanon nodded, satisfied. He closed his eyes and called forth his magic. It stirred from deep within him, making a bright ball of energy in his stomach; he felt the vastness of what he could do with it. But he simply siphoned off small amounts. He wove a careful web of magic, a large one, and laid it about them using it to sense things, to tell if something was coming. He had faith in Kharad, but he was preparing for incase more daemons came for them. Once done, he tied them to himself, and then slipped off to sleep.


It was nearing midnight when Allanon felt one of his magic strands broken. He came awake instantly. The others were still asleep. Allanon stood. The night was dark and empty. The stars overhead gave a faint light, but other than that, it was completely pitch black. Allanon walked into the trees and came silently up next to Kharad. The dwarf looked up at him.

“There’s something out there,” rumbled the dwarf quietly. Allanon set his hand on the dwarfs shoulder.

“I will handle it.”

He stalked off into the night. Allanon saw a bush ten feet in front of him shift. He sent his magic searching. He felt the presence of a being, but it wasn’t a daemon as he had feared. He walked without sound and stepped up to the bush. With a quick lunge he reached down with his hand and gripped the person in the bush.

“Let go with me! Let me go!” screeched a woman’s voice. Allanon picked up the figure and dumped her on the ground before him. In a flair of brilliant red hair and small formed girl stood.

“Who are you, you foolish girl?!” said Allanon. Suddenly the rest of the party came out from the trees. Galen rubbed his eyes and came stumbling out with Thorin and the Lizard man. He blinked several times, Kharad stepping up with a torch.

“Mara?” Galen asked, surprise evident in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming with you,” she said defiantly. She was dressed in tight riding pants, a tunic, a belt with two long knifes, a cloak, and a pack was on the ground near her. Allanon had a bemused look on his face.

"A gurrrl," Thorin exclaimed as he saw the red headed girl appear from the bush. "Oh greaaat..." he said sarcastically before turning around and heading out of the forest. He slumped back down and closed his eyes again, drifting off to a pleasant sleep.

Kharad knew whatever was in the bush was not a real threat, as his warning rune did not light up. Nonetheless, it was better to be safe than sorry, so he kept watch of the thing he noticed off in the distance. Upon finding out who it was, he grumbled.

"Y' could'va got'en yeself killed, lass!" the dwarf said, more annoyed at her recklessness than angry. "An' ya still will! Y've no idea whot you're gettin' yerself inta," he continued in a voice that could be considered loud for the immediate vicinity, but hushed outside of their circle of conversation, while holding his hammer prominently to show her the severity of their situation.

Ral looked down from his resting place up in the trees. It was a good place to rest because he could get the drop on a supposed "ambush"... or he would be the first one dead. Either way was fine by him. He saw that Allanon had found a girl in the bushes, and smiled in the darkness.

"Ssssilly girl." Ral drooped his hood over his face and tried to close his eyes. He felt something wriggle underneath his shirt. At first, he simply dismissed it as a scar, but it started to squrim it's way up. His scars never did that. Ripping open his shirt, he simply chuckled at what he saw. A small lizard found it's way into Ral's shirt, and was having a hard time adjusting to his constantly shifting skin.

Ral placed the lizard on his shoulder, which then nudged it's small head against this hooded neck, before curling up and sleeping. Leaning back against a thick branch in his sleeping tree, he let out a sigh before entering his slumber.

Dawn came and the party rose from sleep. Allanon gathered everyone into the trees in a circle. Mara was sitting next to Galen looking at no one, just staring at the ground before her looking angry. Allanon stood before them.

He looked at Mara. "While you may be willing to leave with us on this journey, I cannot asure your safety, and the opinions of the others must be heard on this too." Allanon walked to the edge of the trees and turned, then sat down his cowl covering his face in shadow.

"This is a dangerous jour'ey," Thorin spoke up, "An' no place fer a gurl... but as long as she doesn't get in te way." He quieted himself and sat listening to the others' opinions.

"How could she not/ get in our way?" Kharad demanded. "She's ah wee lit'le lass, fer cryin' out loud! We'll be spendin' tha whole time lookin' afta 'er ratha thaaan whot we ought t' do!"

He stole a glance at her, althought not attempting to be too covert in his glare. "I say 'ave 'er go back. This is no journey for a lass. Not one thot young, especially."

Just then, in the twilight of morning, something else stirred in the trees.

"Wot was 'hat?" Thorin commented as he heard something stir in the trees shortly after Kharad finished speaking. He strained his eyes to look in the direction of the sound but the gift of sight was not granted to dwarves as it was elves. "Ye 'ear that?" he asked to the others, "Wot we got more compenae'?"

Ral was about to comment about the girl's current situation, but immediately shot his head in the direction of the sound. The runes in his skin began to squirm, sending unease throughout his tired body. Lightly, he grabbed the lizard sleeping on his shoulder and set him back on the tree. As he slowly reached for his blade, a rune began writhing it's way up to Ral's other hand. I suppose I can show them I am of some use. The rune began to glow faintly in his hands, before he clasped his fingers closed. Ral quietly climbed down from his resting place and cautiously joined the others.

With the hostility shown from the dwarves, if Ral made a sudden move, they may end up killing him instead.

ooc: sry, post coming

ooc: sry, post coming

ooc: and yet it never came :p

Hey now, give the man a break he never said anything about posting on the day or within the hour, he never even said he'd post again all week, he just said a post was comming.

On a side note, in case you're wondering I'm waiting for some more RP time to pass before I post.

ooc: there is a reason I put a smiley face at the end...

I know, I was half-joking myself but you can't really project tone in text very well...

I know, I was half-joking myself but you can't really project tone in text very well...

True, true... unless you really know somebody. I opt for putting a smiley in or using the [/sarcasm] tag (or any other tag like that)...

ooc: um... this is pretty dead.

OOC: Thrashia doesn't love us anymore :*(

OOC: I still love you guys dont worry. I just dont have a lot of time on my hands right now. I really want to keep this rp going, so keep an eye out for it. And sry for the delays.

ooc: eh... no problem. Though could you possibly give use an estimate of how long you will be busy for?

Allanon looked closely at each of the group and decided that it would be suitible for the girl to come. The more he watched Galen and the girl, Mara, the more he found that she could be a vital part before the end of their journey came.

"Very well then, young Mara shall join our party with the full awareness that she must not get in our way or that he life's safety is assured," stated Allanon. He turned and went to his sleeping spot. He collected his pack and staff, then walked to his horse.

"The day is yet new and we have far to go. Mount up."

Kharad looked at one of the runes on his hammer and noticed that it was not lit. "Agh, probably another lass chasin' afta tha laddy."

He picked up a small rock and threw it toward the brush, and a startled deer quickly scampered away.

Turning back to Allanon, he grunted. On the one hand, he did not want to bother having to protect the girl every time some fighting started. On the other hand, he did not want to simply leave someone as seemingly defenseless as her to fend for herself should something happen. "Fine," Kharad said. "But she's your responsibility more thaaan anyone else's," he pointed his hammer at Allanon while speaking to him.

He packed all his belongings and, after a small ordeal, managed to get on his horse. "Let's get goin'. I have no love for ah place thot I caan't even see twenty feet in frrront of meh." He hacked away at the tree limbs that were about to smack into his face.

Leaving the town had brought back Laphillion's feel of being watched. It was a real annoyance but it didn't hinder his movement.
With a light sigh Laphillion continued along the light, dirt road. The feeling didn't bother him as much anymore, if whatever was following him was of dark powers then he had a plan to deal with it.

Reaching into his quiver he pulled out an arrow that was different from the rest, it had a longer point for one and it gleamed oddly.
It was silver-tipped, to cause greater harm against dark forces, such as demons or other unholy beasts.
Laphillion was busy trying to concoct a plan to trap his dark watcher, whatever it was doing he ment to find out why.