NationStates Jolt Archive

***1514 CR Southern Heronor [Crown Reckoning]***

Few orders of Knights resided in the broken lands of Heronor. Under the near perpetual gloom and despair that surrounded this land, there were still a few shining beacons of light and virtue to be exalted. One such order, the Pride of Dunkelzahn, devoted to Nobanion existed in the southern reaches of Heronor province.

It shared its duties with two other Knightly orders, one devoted to Shevarash, the other to Bane. To say that Grand Master Priam Iendarim did not often call upon their aid, was an understatement. On most days, those in the hold would be practicing sword play, magical arts or formation tactics, however today was a day of celebration. Two "cubs" of the "Pride" were being raised in status to Knights of the Order.

Squire Johan Siamne and Squire Emardin Truewater had finally passed their tests of Knighthood. Johan in his last battle had laid to rest ten skeletons and a mighty wight while defending the Fallen Knight Broskin Faracil. Emardin, his truest companion, a moon elven fighter had stood by his side, slaying nearly an equal amount of foe and enduring several frightful wounds in the process. Johan's skill as an Eldritch Knight's squire had surpassed what he could now be taught, it was time for him, as well as Emardin to attain the mantle of Manhood. Johan was now a man, at twenty five years of age this, to a half elf marked the end of childhood and the beginning of adulthood. To a human it would be considered just short of eighteen, but in Tannelorn, a place filled with long lived races, even twenty five could be considered exorbitantly young for such responsibility.

Johan strode beside his friend, bedecked in the fine robes of green and gold of his order and god. His shoulder length brown hair framed his pale face in a unruly mane, considered auspicious by some. He had his Hand and a Half Sword, Kasildan at his side, a gift from a cousin in Rillith Mornil. It was strongly enchanted, to be able to strike foes that cannot be harmed by mortal weaponry, and to be extra keen and durable. He was broad shouldered and long limbed, built to be a swordsman but with a keen mind, eager to explore new challenges and mysteries that made him well suited for wizardry.

His friend stood nearly two inches taller then him, at Six foot four, Emardin was tall, even for an elf. He had his family blade, Mourngil at his side as well, his blade was a hand and a half sword, a flame tongue that had been in his family for generations, since the fall of Rillith Tormal. They had both grown up in Heronor, living in one of the few mixed communities of Arendacilians and elves, and both had managed to make the cut to become squires in the Pride of Dunkelzahn. So named for the last dragon of Tannelorn, slain by Grandmaster Arathorn Barion, two hundred years before.

He wore a splendid suit of mail, and his long bluish black hair reached half way down his back. He strode proudly along with Johan to the altar of Nobanion, where Grand Master Iendarim waited. They knelt before the altar, reaffirming their vows to serve the Divine Kingdom, and the precepts of chivalry. The Grand Master bade them rise, and touched each upon the cheek with his blade. "Now Johan Siamne, Emardin Truewater, squires you are no longer, we welcome you to the order as full knights, and long may you serve the Kingdom and Nobanion." they once again recited their oaths and the Grandmaster dismissed them. They started to leave the chapel, smug and proud when the doors were flung open, and two knights entered helping a bloodied man through to the altar.

"Master, this man is Jerden Fereth, from the village of two tree's six miles to the south. He has urgent business with us I am afraid." the shorter of the two knights stated. The Grandmaster immediately turned to face the newcomer. "What is your need friend, we shall gladly aid you." he turned, whispering to his aid, who left to fetch a cleric. "My lord, our village was attacked two nights ago, first some farmers disappeared, then in the night men were murdered in the streets. The next night we found an army upon us, we retreated behind the walls, those of us that could." he stopped to catch his breath, wheezing from the exertion of his journey. "They sent me to look for help, I travelled through the night and some of the bastards almost caught up with me, please my lord send help before its too late, they were already coming the walls when I left." The simple peasant looked ready to pass out. "An army you say? How many, who are they?" Grandmaster Iendarim asked. "A hundred or more my lord." the Grandmaster nodded, his fiery beard and long mane of hair gave him a fearsome appearance in that light, as his face took on a stern and serious demeanor. "All Knights prepare to ride, Two Tree's needs our aid, and they need it now."

The Knights leapt in to action and were mounted and ready to ride within fifteen minutes of the call.

++++

The Knights rode out in full strength, all seventy four of them. It was a fearsome side, over sixty fully armoured knights accompanied by mages, priests and eldritch knights, riding in formation. Johan rode at pace with Emardin. "So who do you think it is, more undead, perhaps goblins?" Emardin asked Johan. Johan smirked "Maybe Banites." Emardin laughed. "That would be something, if only we could be that lucky.

The cavalry column stopped at the order of Grand Master Iendarim as they came over a hill, which had previously been obscuring Two tree's. They could see the glow in the distance before they even reached the town, but the sight of it burning, and the sound of distant screams filled the Pride of Dunkelzahn with righteous fury, and they raced down the hill in to the burning village.

OOC This is a prequel post to the actual thread, in which Johan Siamne along with a group of companions quest to find his families moonblade, as well as travel the world learning more about other lands. Someone stole the moon blade from the city of Rillith Tormal many years ago, a foreign adventurer who left without declaring what he had taken.

This thread will encompass the quest, as well as the meeting of new allies and enemies as he treks across the land of Eldire, facing evil and attempting to find his birth right.

Your pretty standard "Fellowship" style, adventuring band based RP. The natural choice for "foreign friends" are people who share the same far eastern regions as Tannelorn at first, so Silvan Draconia, Tristan Providence, Star republic, the Empire, Mel' Mtor and the Forsaken lands would be natural choices for starting allies and friends. As soon as the raid is completed it will go forward two years, to a small frontier town in the crown lands, near the border with Tristan. As the RP progresses and he travels further west and north, new opportunities for friends and enemies will of course come up.

OOC: I have dibs on the raid XD :D We are Drow lol It's what we do.




Shynthrae'zyr knelt before Matron Mother Zeskiira'wyss his white hair gleaming in the faery fire. He looked up at her. "They are ready Matron Mother. It is time. We march for the north tonight." The Matron Mother stood before him brushing her fingers through his horse-tailed mohawk. "Very well. You serve me well Shynthrae'zyr, should you meet your end I am sure Lolth will reward you greatly." He stood tall, taller than the Matron Mother almost six inches taller than her. He was unusually tall for a drow male aswell as muscular.

His green eyes met hers and an evil smirk crossed his slightly thin lips. "Inba nau treemma, Ilharess Ilhar. L'glennen orn jous l'seke ib'ahalii d'Lolth ulu I'darthien." She laughed softly and bid him on his way. The six hundred year old woman stood at the foot of the steps of her throne wondering when she would see her youngest daughter Iymbreenafae in the throws of battle.


* * *


The fires burned strong causing a glare for the mass of drow. Shynthrae'zyr was used to the fire by now since it was not his first trip to the surface nor was is the first time he had burned a village to the ground. Aside from the hundred and thirty drow students about to make their right of passage as warriors, there were fifty-five goblin slaves running about enslaving as many elves as they could, not only for sacrifice but the women would serve the males amusement later.

Shynthrae'zyr turned abruptly hearing the whinnying of horse not far from the village. He held his hands up sending messages to the students in the hand language of drow. Within seconds all the drow hid in what little shadows they could find. Crouching on top of a roof that had barely started to burn Shynthrae'zyr awaited, his bisento grasped firmly.

Few Elves still lived in the village of two tree's, more now that the Knights were charging in to the city.The enemy had seemed to melt away in the night, but Grand Master Iendarim knew better then to think they would leave just like that. Heronor's population was mostly human, but half elves and moon elves lived in tiny numbers everywhere. The bedraggled survivors that could be seen seemed to be Arendacilian. Whomever had attacked, had targeted the elven population, or they had just been unfortunate enough to be taken away first.

Some monsters..and demons preferred the blood and meat of elves, the Grand Master's worst fear was that perhaps this attack had been spurned on by something far greater then bandits or undead, perhaps even a green dragon.

He ordered his Knights to split up, and for half of his number to dismount and move ahead of the Knights, searching ruined hovels and alleyways for any potential prey or ambush.

++++

Johan dismounted as ordered. As an Eldritch Knight, his ability to cast spells and fight would make him worth several men on foot. He cast several spells on himself to enhance his fighting prowess and strength, the best shielding magic he knew and an invisibility spell. Emardin followed behind him with several other warrior Knights, following the lead of Knight Keldis Draythoril, a Paladin of Lord Firemane. They warily crept through the ruins, with Johan on point, ready to warn them of danger around corners. Firelight flickered off the scales and plates of their armour, their eyes raced across every shadow as sweat beat over their brows.

It was not the fear of what lay in the darkness, but the anticipation of battle to come that increased their cautiousness. They were knights of Nobanion, the Lord Firemane and they would gladly sacrifice their lives for the good of their pride, the lands which they protected. The crackling sounds of the flames licking up woods and devouring straw were the only noises to pierce the darkness.

Shynthrae'zyr scanned over the knights and by the looks of it, not as tough as he anticipated. Silently he leapt from roof to roof at least of the roofs where the fires hadn't consumed most of the roofing. He stuck to the shadows constantly updating commands between the young warriors to be. A group of five slipped down and snuck up on two knights and sliced their throats open. Just as quickly as they had slaughtered the two men, they dissapeard back into the darkness.

Shynthrae'zyr coiled down one of the houses seeing the Grand Master Iendarim and strode to the fires. His armour of mythril practically glowed against the fires light; blood of each elv he had killed or maimed that night he used to paint a large spider across his plated chest armour. He held the bisento in one hand standing just a few feat away from the Grand Master. "You look like you may be worthy; draw your sword."

The Knights surrounding the Grand Master started to draw their blades, but the Grand Master waved them back. He stepped off his horse and lowered his visor, drawing his heavy pick. Behind the Knights two thuds signaled the death of several of their comrades and they moved to them, to see if they could see any sign of their killers.

Grand Master Iendarim hefted his heavy pick, calling down the power of Nobanion to infuse it with holy power. His weapon was now a Holy Avenger a weapon useable only by a paladin. The power his god granted was able to change his heavy pick in to such an awesome weapon of war with but a single word. The weapon glowed now with a golden light and he advanced towards the drow male, shield in front of his face.

"Foul one back to your caves." he challenged. He knew little of drow, mainly from legends recounted by friends in orders devoted to Corellon, had he known drow were in the village, or more so had he known more about the drow in the village he would have taken a different course. Now he had no choice but to meet this wicked creature with good honest steel and faith in his god. "Thou hast no right to trespass here, and thou shalt be judged in hell." The Grandmaster charged in, feinting left then moving in right to get in to the reach of the drows Bisento, he swung low, for the hip, aiming the head of the heavy pick right in between his joint.

OOC: I have permission to write casualties for Tannelorn in this post. We spoke about this through telegrams



Shynthrae'zyr lept back blocking with the blunt wooden end of his bisento; he rolled to the side circling around and waited for an opening. With one raise of his hand making a bunch of flickering or what the knights conceived it to be. Young drow males flooded the village using cross bows and knives slaughtering at least half of the knights. Shynthrae'zyr met each blow Iendarim delivered and quite a few were potentially fatal.

Though a holy avenger should have caused more damage than it did, it was unknown to the knights that even a drow who commits acts of evil may not be evil at all. Shynthrae'zyr stepped far back now feinting what looked like a retreat. Much to the surprise of everyone on the battlefield, he ran forward thrusting and stabbing, managing to actually cause a small laceration on Iendarim left thigh. The drow was knocked back slightly his feet causing furrows in the dirt and with an overly confident grin they continued to exchange blows.

The Grand Master could not believe what had just happened. The armour had held against his blow, any being of Evil would have at least been wounded by an attack by a holy Avenger, however this dark elf had simply been staggered.

Iendarim did not have time to contemplate the meaning, as the drow continued his attacks with lightning speed. He parried and blocked as many blows as he could, but found himself unable to compete with the skill and puissance of this drow warrior. He stopped to call down the power of his god, hoping to increase his battle might long enough to prevail. It only took an instant, but it was an instant too many. The drow lunged in with his Bisento, and he raised his shield a fraction of a second too late. Blood spurted from the wound in his neck as he struggled to stay on his feet.

Words could not come to the Grand Master to call down a prayer from Nobanion to heal his wounds. Instead with a sickening gargling noise, blood poured forth from his mouth, and he fell to the ground, dead.

The rest of the Knights were far too busy to aid their master, half of their number lay dead or dying from the treacherous attack of the Dark Elves. However, they were still members of a Knightly order, they were no stranger's to hopeless battles. On steed and on foot they let out a mighty war cry and charged at the drow who they could see, putting the enemy between them and the bolts that would surely find them in the open.

Still the drow outnumbered them now almost six to one, even the mightiest warrior would find trouble with those odds. The battle-mages and priests of nobanion amongst their ranks let loose with battle magics, lighting, fire, acid and bolts of magical force all leapt towards the drow that were attempting to dishonourably shoot down the Knights.

++++

Johan and Emardin had been further away from the ambush then many of the other Knights, and so had the opportunity to watch and see what was going on, before deciding what to do. Knight Draythoril called on his group of Knights to reinforce the center, where Grandmaster Iendarim was fighting with the drow Weaponsmaster and the group moved towards them. Just as they did a group of drow burst from a ruined building, firing bolts and slaying one of their number.

Knight Draythoril charged the nearest drow to him and swung his heavy pick in a wide arc towards his head, punching with his shield as he followed through with his spin. Emardin engaged the drow nearest to him with his blade, well practiced sword forms weaving a wall of steel in front of him.

They had been stopped, and just as Johan was about to attack and reveal himself, he saw the Grand Master fall.

"For the Order!" he shouted, running towards Shynthrae'zyr at full speed, he spoke words of power and extended his hand, unleashing his most powerful spell, a Lightning bolt with unerring accuracy.

Shynthrae'zyr let out a roar of pain and turned to face the young boy running towards him. Shynthrae'zyr was an older drow about three hundred and fifty four. He had lost count of the days long ago. He gripped his bisento and took a defensive stance, waiting for the boy.

The young drow were screaming with joy. After each knight fell more cheers from the drow came. Blood pooled everywhere from everyone those dead or still meeting their fate. Shynthrae'zyr took note of the dirt's saturation and before everyones eyes was quickly sloshing into mud. Shynthrae'zyr ran deciding he wasn't going to give the half elf the chance to strike first. He jammed the bisento into the dirt lifting himself in a pole volt manner slamming his foot into the boys chest. "Have you an idea of what just happened to your Grand Master? I suggest you walk away boy. By the looks of it you have not yet felt the embrace of a woman you have no place on a battle field."

He grabbed the bisento and began to walk away from him. His mind cluttered; this boy was three springs or so older than his daughter. Though not by blood, Shynthrae'zyr raised Iymbreenafae when she was just a babe and still had a wet nurse. It bothered him a great deal that in three years time her mother, The Matron Mother, would be sending her into battles far more dangerous than an annual raid. His thoughts dissipated as he heard a loud scream and in mid turn defensively held his bisento screaming with rage in his voice.

Emardin blocked the first few swings of the drow facing him, then countered with a swing of his own. The drow was good, but Emardin had a trick up his sleeve. As he brought his blade back in an cross slash, he spoke the command word and the blade burst in to flame. The drow could not block what he could not see and was split open upon the blade. The rest of the Knights hacked away at their foes, clearing a path to their fallen commander.


Johan charged in after the bolt of lightning had struck Shynthrae'zyr, pulling back his swing and jumping over the drow's head, with the aid of a jump spell, He landed and turned quickly to face him, holding his blade in two hands before him. He glanced down at the fallen grandmaster and knew he was surely slain. Spitting out an oath Johan ran at the drow, with a flurry of blows.

At least thirty drow fell in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. The males continue to shoot bolts and slash at who they can with great trouble. It seemed to be that the newly trained warriors had killed off those with the least skill and now a challenge lay before them. The young drow began to pull back after Shynthrae'zyr through his hand up and ordered them to do so. Shynthrae'zyr had never intended on any of his students to fall to a knights blade tonight. He had hoped it would go as planned like every year. They would capture about forty five elven maidens and a few men and sacrifice them to Lolth, not before the soldiers had their way with the maidens first, of course. Though they did manage to capture that many half elves, it wasn't quite the same satisfaction.

Shynthrae'zyr struck the boy in anger. He blocked any blows with the bisento he held with one hand now; took off his muffler and smack the boy square in the face. "Are you hard of hearing half elf? Or do you wish to die like your comrades?" He clashed blades with the half elf; again and again sparks flew from the blades spells chanted and shouted from every which way. The two danced back in forced circling one another, each equally waiting for an opening.

The drow males dispersed and it seemed like everyone was watching young Johan and Shynthrae'zyr. A few of the males though, had not forgotten the orders they were given prior to the engaged fight. They ran around aimlessly scanning the areas for young maidens to bring back. Even as far as two miles away, where drow males were snatching up women of any elvish or humanoid race, the clashing of the two fighters could be heard perfectly clear.

Johan realised he was losing the fight, nay had lost the fight before it had even begun. Still he did his best to defend himself from this strange drow. He knew little of them, only the stories told to him to frighten him to sleep as a child. He had only half believed them, until now. Suddenly the drow backed off, he had somehow managed to hold the drow off..for now. He clutched a prism sewn to his jacket and spat out a few words of power. It was now or never, he had to use the final card he had left. The battle magics he possessed were either used up, or incapable of harming the drow.

Suddenly he appeared to be in five places at once. The lull in the fighting allowing him to cast the Mirror Image spell, his most powerful defense. He grinned, changing places several times with his illusory doubles. "I will not be the one to die this day Dhaerow." Johan snarled and lept at his foe.

His friends continued to fight their way towards the battle in the center. Emardin desperately calling out for him to back away, that the Drow was too strong for him, but either Johan did not hear him, or would not heed him. It wouldn't be the first time.

Shynthrae'zyr was livid now. Arrogant boy! He thought; he did not want to kill a half elf so young, nay anyone so young. He felt that not even Lolth had the right to deprive anyone of the joys being young held. He closed his eyes parrying every blow even better now than before. He held no reserves now, if this boy truly wished to die so young, it was not his place to deprive him of it. Each foot step the boy made, he forgot that his mirrored images did not.

In a feint he made it seemed like he was confused, until he heard the footsteps in front of him. He swung the bisento overhand shattering the boys sword. He screamed at the young boy pushing him backwards with fury in his eyes. "Listen to me boy, I am Shynthrae'zyr: Weapons Master of House Mel'mtor. Did you honestly think you could kill me? You cannot kill me boy; I died a long time ago." He sighed pulling his sword out, it was a long sword of mythril beautifully encrusted on the guard and pommel of the hilt. Horns filled the air from the distance; reinforcements Shynthrae'zyr was in no mood to greet. He rose his hand again and before anyone knew it the drow dissapeared back into the darkness from whence they came.

Johan stared in disbelief at the broken blade he now held in his hand. He looked back at the drow, hearing his words and staring at him with hatred and vengeance in his eyes. Before he could make any other moves, the drow stepped back in to the shadows.

He was gone. Johan quickly moved to the Grand Master, seeing now the full scope of his gory demise. His head was nearly cut half off by the stab of the Bisento. He had bled out, his vocal chords cut, he didn't have even a chance to heal himself before he had died. Johan looked up as Ermardin, Draythoril and the few remaining knights of the order gathered around him. "Sad tidings indeed, Knight Siamne, but your valour will long be remembered." The elder Knight stated sadly. The rest of the Knights could not believe what had transpired. In less then twenty minutes the order had been reduced to less then seven knights.

"Its a crippling blow lads, but fear not, the order will live as we live now." Knight Draythoril stated proudly, picking up his fallen masters pick. From behind them the sound of horse steps could be heard as the Knights of the Ebon hand entered the burning village. Erion Mandalihim dismounted, his black armour and cape decorated with dark runes and sigils. He was Grandmaster of an order of Knights devoted to Bane, one of three orders sanctioned by the High King, twenty seven years before. "We mourn for thy loss, but we shall not shed a tear for his passing." he grinned under his mask. For the next twenty years at least this land would be his to protect. The Pride of Dunkelzahn left with haste, reverently gathering up the dead and placing them on their horses, allowing them to ride with their brothers one last time.

Emardin was riding beside his friend, troubled by the days events. "Don't worry, it wont be that long, Knights errant will wish to join us and the lads of the villages who worship Nobanion will ever strive for knighthood. As well we still have many squires and some of them are almost ready, as we were to join the ranks." Emardin tried to be a voice of hope on this dark day. Johan was brooding in silence over his defeat by the drow and the death of his beloved Grand Master. He had taken him in as an orphan, shortly after the final war of secession, and he and Eldritch Knight Irilias Darkshadow had been the closest thing to fathers he had.

"How long will it truly take Emardin, ten, twenty years? How many more people will that drow slay or enslave in that time? He..no they must be stopped." Johan left it at that. Emardin knew they would not be staying with the order after this day was done, as he would not leave his friend alone to his quest, whatever end it took.

***1516 CR: Eolamir's Hold, western crown lands***

The frontier town of Eolamir's Hold had been founded by the Adventurer Eolamir the brazen over a hundred years ago. Its location, twenty miles southwest of Rillith Tormal, made it a prime spot for adventurers, questing Knights, wandering priests or just about anyone who wished to enter the haunted ruins. The wealth that was still being carried out of the ancient metropolis had been enough to raise the town from a small collection of temporary houses to a relatively majour town in a short period of time.

It was filled with people of all walks of life, even tolerating the odd half orc or dwarf, so long as they were properly licensed, a process taking place upon entering the country. A dwarf or half orc without an assurances license could be sure to spend at least several weeks in jail before being banished on pain of death. As was usual with towns catering to adventurers, it had a rough and tumble atmosphere, with a bawdy colouring on all things big and small. It was at once a place of discipline, and one all encompassing party and brawl.

The well equipped militia was constantly on the lookout for trouble, and when they found it they would usually come down they say, like the paw of Nobanion. Like many towns of the Crown lands, the worship of Nobanion, the lion god or members of the Seldarine was commonplace. Generally members of each village would be an eclectic mix of faiths, with all of the gods Nobanion, Torm, of the Seldarine and even Myrkul [in thanks for not unleashing a horde of undead upon them this week/] being honoured or receiving prayers in the appropriate situation.

One tavern in particular was the root cause of most of this trouble, and had even had the honour of having a watch post built across the street from it. The Blushing moon, as it was called boasted having serving girls who were bottomless, as foreshadowed in the title. Eventually the Militia had asked them to limit this practice simply to the dancers on stage, but the Tavern never lost its raucousness.

Aside from having attractive, rather poor young woman, hoping to make a large dowry for themselves dancing on a stage in nothing, the proprietor had been wise enough to maintain a small adventurers guild inside the basement. So then he guaranteed the patronage of as many people as possible, because not only could Adventurers find expeditions, work or tips on possible treasures to be found or money to made, but they could spend said hard earned gold and attain almost anything they wanted..in the same place.

Currently two members of the guild were sitting at a table, one was smoking a pipeload of Wizards smoke [as the wizards would have you believe], the other was busy with drinking and feeling up a young Arendacilian lass he had managed to take hold off. The man smoking was Johan Siamne. He was slightly taller and leaner now, his hair the same mane of wild brown hair. He looked older, grown in to a man over the last two years, as his arendacilian heritage caused his body to mature. Though he had taken almost six years longer then an Arendacilian thanks to his elven heritage, an elf of twenty seven would still be like a twelve year old in comparison.

His friend, Emardin however hadn't changed a bit in the two years since that faithful day. Johan had spent the last two years attempting to learn more secrets of magic and of the fighting arts. He fully intended to revenge the Grand Master of the Pride of Dunkelzahn and slay the foul drow who destroyed not only the order, but the lives of hundreds of villagers.

He had grown stronger as well as older, and now he was waiting for an old friend to return. He had been contacted by his cousin Eriala, she said she had urgent business with him, that could not wait. So here he was, idling his time away in a bar that was within seconds of some form of brawl, often lethal.

Just as he started to relax he heard shouting over by the barkeep, one of the patrons was clearly unsatisfied with the service, and was making it loudly, and if someone didn't calm him soon..violently known. Johan sighed, Emardin didn't notice. The watch would be busy again soon, most likely.


OOC Alright the Prequel portion is now finished, anyone who wishes to introduce themselves in a tavern may do so now, as the thread officially begins.

Jun sat on his horse as he passed, alone, through the lands of Tannelorn. Technically, as son of Emperor Xuo of the Empire of Xao-Cian, he was the crown prince, and chosen heir if his father were to die. However, he felt it necessary to be able to know the world around him in order to be an effective ruler. Know the land. Know the people. That simply couldn't be done when one is followed by hordes of attendants and guards, who are ready to more or less kill anyone who so much refused to bow in his presence. That was not the way to know a land. Jun had set off, alone, south of the Empire, in a quest to learn of the world around him. No attendants. No guards. No groveling commoners greeting him as he passed. He had become one of the common people.

Well, becoming one of the people as far as being a strange foreigner in the lands of Tannelorn went. He no longer dressed in the expensive red and gold robes of the Royal Family, and sported clothes bore befitting of a commoner (http://images.elfwood.com/art/t/u/tunglei2/ninja.jpg). Well, although he probably blended in well with his own people, he was certainly receiving odd stares from the people he passed by on his horse, surprised by the sight of the mysterious foreigner.

As he passed, he came across a building, quite unlike the commoner homes he was seeing. It seemed like a public place, quite like the tea houses and wine dens back home. Deciding to take a load off his feet after a long day of traveling, he stabled his horse in the conveniently-located stable nearby, and stepped through the doors of the tavern.

He was instantly greeted by the familiar noise of shouting voices and drunken fellows. Across the room, Jun saw that one of the men shouting at the barkeeper, clearly unhappy about something or another. People were gambling, sharing stories, drinking, and doing what they generally did to amuse themselves. In short, everything was normal.

Looking around, he spotted an empty table to the side. Next to it stood another occupied by a man, who seemed to be waiting for someone. Jun took the empty table next to him, and pulled his sunhat down over his eyes.

-snip-

Nothing is new under the sun. As the night grew darker the tavern grew louder. A rough looking man of large build sat with his feet propped up on a table in the far corner. He watched as the stage girls were being harassed by a group of drunken brigands. "Ah, I just hate this place." He mumbled to himself. Being around such wild folk that had no regard for chivalry or morals was not Sir Edan Beathan's hobby. He in fact despised how people acted in such unholy establishments. However, Sir Edan had- contrary to his liking- been stuck in establishments like this ever since he left the Kingdom of Providence, specifically the Middle Duchy. Sir Edan had been ordained by a Priest of Nuada to go on a quest for greater knowledge outside of the Kingdom. As much as Edan despised this idea, he had no choice but to obey his priest’s orders. So for the past 2 months Sir Edan Beathan of Assosa, has been a Knight-Errant.

In Edan's travels south, he has found himself in the Blushing moon, a rather, unpleasant place. Edan chuckled as the men harassing the naked young women were literally thrown out the door. Their drunken screams could be heard from the outside as they tried to lift themselves from the dirt road. As the men continued to cause a ruckus, a few town militia pulled them off the street and into the jail next-door. At least something made Edan's day. However; he soon found himself back in the same rut he was in before. "I've got to find some sort of knowledge so I can go back home, away from this horrible place". Edan brushed his hand through his brown hair as he leaned forward and rested his broad arms on the table in front of him. He let out a deep sigh and continued to watch the madness unfold.

TAG for later IC post.

Johan barely looked up from the sword technique manual he was scanning through. It had been written in a nation far to the west, and contained nothing of interest aside from a few dirty maneuvers which no self respecting knight..of any order would resort to. He put the book down when he read the chapter on biting, and glanced around. The bouncers were tossing some foreigner out of the door, though Johan had barely noticed the disturbance. Shouting could still be heard at the counter but that had not yet been resolved.

"Nobanions great steaming droppings, that foreigner acted like he had never seen a naked moon elf before." he laughed softly, the Arendacilian girl draped over him giggled, face flushed with drink. "Now had the tavern been lucky enough to witness a sun elf maiden in full undress, I would rush the stage myself." The girl stared daggers at him and mockingly slapped him across the face, huffing and pouting. It was considered in Tannelorn, that sun elf maidens were the most graceful, beautiful and desirable. The mere mention of one was often enough for men to have to retreat to the barn for a night. "Don't worry Brunhilde, you know I wouldn't trade those soft lips and bountiful hips for some frigid princess." he grinned softly and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and started playing with her hair.


"Can I has mutton's now?" Johan's familiar, Boots asked. Boots was an elven cat, a pet given to most elven children raised in the traditional style at a young age. They served as friends, playmates and protectors.


Johan chuckled and handed the cat the half eaten plate of food he was working on and looked around. He hadn't even noticed the foreigner sit at the table next to his, but he was taken slightly aback by his appearance. At first he attempted to figure out which of the kindred he was, and realised he was not an elf at all. He had rounded ears of a human. The upturned eyes had no fold above them, as arendacilians or elves did, and his skin was darker then any moon elf or Arendacilian, matching the skin tone of the Sun elves. The Arendacilians were men of the west who travelled to the east, colonising the area the elves once controlled. Over the years they had interbred with the elves to such a degree almost half the population was like Johan. However the man he was looking at now appeared to be like no human, nor elf he had ever seen.

His outfit was strange as well, particularly his hat, which had an incredibly wide brim. Curiousity got the better of him, and he was about to ask him where he hailed from, when a feminine voice called out his name. Then in elvish she continued. "Johan Siamne, a message from your cousin."
Emardin looked up in surprise. Before them was a Sun elf woman, dressed in a very revealing tunic that went about a quarter of the way down her thigh, and soft leather riding boots. Her long black hair reached past her backside and was allowed to flow loosely. She carried a lute, the traditional instrument of the travelling bard and had a long sword at her hip. She grinned at Johan when she saw him, recognising him from her cousins descriptions.

Emardin could not believe his eyes. Here was the famous bard Selsharril Aerothil, of the Sun elf noble house Aerothil. It was considered the most staunchly conservative of all the houses, and opposed all contact between Tannelorn and the outside world. As could be evinced by her most Un-sun Elf like attire and behaviour, Selsharril was something of a rebel in that case.

She was known for writing ballads on a dozen hero's and adventurers and was rumoured to have slept with them all, as the romantic verses seemingly all contain the same woman. If she was looking for Johan, then Emardin was particularly jealous.

She smiled sweetly at Johan and continued to speak. "It has been long since the name of Siamne has been heard sung throughout the lands Johan, and I am most pleased to meet you." Johan looked a little confused, he did not know this woman, nor how she would know him. "I spent a little time in Rillith Tormal recently, I grew to know your cousin well, rather then spend some time in "stolen lands." Selsharril laughed at this comment. Johan sighed, knowing full well his cousin's firm belief's in rather silly ideas. "She asked me to come and tell you what she requires. It is a matter of your family, a matter of your own Legacy. The Siamne's were not always farmers, smiths and trappers living in the gloom of Haranor. Your families past is long and sordid, but you are the last in that line. To you goes your family legacy."


She smiled sweetly again and sat next to Johan, sitting in between the table where the strangely dressed Foreigner sat and Johan. "Your cousin wishes you to go to Rillith tormal, to the Temple district. There the ruins of the Siamne house lay still, as well as your families greatest treasure." she leaned in. "Your cousin wishes to use it, and you to rebuild Rillith Tormal, she is quite set in her ways and doesn't realise that the Johan some bards are now speaking of would never do such a thing." She grinned at him.

"What is this thing she wishes me to retrieve, and why would I use it for anything like that?" Johan was getting a little annoyed. It was not that the Sun elf girl wasn't beautiful or charming, it was simply that he was not interested in her. He was of Rillith Mornil, and though he was raised in the order, he had often visited his relatives there. He considered Sun elves however, to be worthy of contempt, and not Arendacilian's whom he considered the greatest gift to his, the Moon Elven people. Of course he was Half Arendacilian, but half elven children almost always favoured the elven parent.

"The Siamne Family Moon blade." she said quietly. Johan's eyebrows perked up instantly. "A moon blade, in my family?" Johan practically shouted.
"Do not advertise it to all, fool Knight." Selsharril hissed. "It does not matter, if there is a moon blade in my family, I will retrieve it. Such a weapon should not remain lost to us."

Selsharril grinned softly, something which made Johan uncomfortable in the extreme. She leaned in, far closer then was dignified and whispered in his ear. "Your cousin told me much about you, including your obsession with Dhaerow, might you have your own reasons for retrieving it. If the rumours about you simply covering for your cousin aren't true that is, which I know is the case." she practically purred. He slammed his hand on the table, toppling his pile of books on the floor, the manual's were all of foreign sword techniques.

Johan was far more interested in the Moon blade for his own reasons, the death of the Drow who slew the grandmaster and enslaved a quarter of a village under his protection. With that blade he knew he would be able to defeat him, his skills had grown in the last two years, but he feared they would not be enough if he met the drow again now. The reminder of his past failure, and the fact that many believed him to be a traitor did not sit well with him.

Selsharril ordered a drink and moved behind Johan. "A moon blade will only accept those pure of heart whose intentions are good, you could wield the blade, but pride will prevent you from ever realising its power."

One of the books had hit Jun squarely on the foot. When Johan realised it, he turned to the foreigner in the strange garb and retrieved it. "I apologise for my outburst if it disturbed you at all." he was curious about the foreigner, and he would rather not talk to the sun elf woman any longer then he had to. "Your garb and appearance is different then even the men of the west who come to our ports, tell me friend, which land do you call your home?"

++++

Emardin on the other hand, had noticed a rather out of place foreigner. He was wearing the garb of the Knights of the land to the north, a place which the people of Tannelorn, used to a more leisurely pace of life had barely noticed.

The man looked extremely uncomfortable, so he decided, in all his drunken glory to go over and help him relax. He brought Brunhilde with him, and sat down at his table, offering the man a drink, "Hello friend, I see you are a Knight, once I was a member of an order myself, so why did you come here, the ruins of Rillith Tormal? Or the beauties on the stage." He grinned and looked back behind him, a pair of women were now in the process of getting undressed as another sang an old elven love song.

"This promises to be quite the risque dance I assure, you, which one do you like best hmm? The Arendacilian, or the Elf?." he grinned then feeling Brunhilde's scathing stare without even seeing it. "Personally I find the Arendacilian girls to be the most beautiful." he laughed softly. Brunhilde giggled. "Oh Mardy, your ears wiggle so when you laugh, its so cute!" he gave a sheepish grin. True enough, his long, pointed ears did indeed wiggle, at least while he was this intoxicated.

Since leaving the Order, Emardin had become much more interested in mirth and merriment then his friend Johan, who seemed overly obsessed with the damn drow and the raid. Then again, Emardin thought to himself..he is half human.

Whispering a quiet word, the barrel chested packhourse underhim, Ironbeard took seat carefully and braced himself, there it was it a flash from a slow walk to a full gallop that would put a racing hourse to shame, the small house befitting a Dwarf Galloped towards the town, passing by people on the road, as the iron shod shoes of the horse thudded on the ground, almost as suddenly as it had sped up the horse slowed down, beckoned by the Dwarf whos words were lost to the winds.

(If anyone has read Rangers apprentice Dwarf Horses are basically the Rangers hourses tho less awesome.)

The little horse, was only visibly tired a little, surprising considering the distance it covered with its load and the speed it did it in, with a thud, IronBeard slid of his horse, and patted its side before grabbing its reigns and leading it to what he instinctivly knew was a bar.


Stabling his horse, too at a nearby stable, which was conveintly he shoulded his heavy pack and trudged into the bar, the clincking of his heavy plate and mail armour drowned out by the din of the bar, entering through the door he gained some stares particually by a cocky man who precceed to ask
"excuse me young lad *hic* This be a mans bar schooo *hic* skiddle on home!" the drunkard said

Ironbeard merely scoffed and procceeded towards the barkeep, drawing more stares to his dimmunitive feature muttering gruffly to a rather scruffy looking fellow "What are you starig at you itcheuemie(Dwarf word, means human but not in a polite way)" before turning the bar keep
"Give me a tankard of you biggest bestest and strongest Ale" and flipped a gold coin, onto the bar.

OOC: Lol @ your cat.

IC: Jun looked up from his table, and gazed downwards. The corner point of quite a thick book was falling straight towards his foot. Allowing it to land in him would be quite a painful feeling he did not wish to experience. Using his foot as a balance, he stuck his foot out, catching the book by the corner, balancing it perfectly on his boot. Then, using his strength, he threw his foot upwards, propelling the book into his waiting hand, where he caught it with practiced ease. Jun noticed the man from the table next to him rising to retrieve it. He seemed like he was just deep in discussion with a woman of a strange nature. Her voice flowed like water around a rock, and her ears were curiously pointed upwards. Jun looked away from her, and concentrated on the man talking to him.

"I apologize for my outburst if it disturbed you at all. Your garb and appearance is different then even the men of the west who come to our ports, tell me friend, which land do you call your home?"


Jun looked up toward the man speaking. He seemed local enough, clad in garb that was usually worn by the people of this land. Jun took a moment to wonder how out-of-place he looked, before he decided he didn't really care. Yet, there was an air of adventure about him, someone with an ultimate goal. Definitely he was a man with a story to tell. Jun smiled. At least nobody was challenging him. Yet. He held the book out toward the man.

"I hail from a land far away, known as Xao-Cian." He said, the hint of an accent in his voice. "A vast land, a great many leagues north of here." He wanted to talk more about his land, but he knew that he could not. His head knew too many forbidden secrets about the place he called home. Looking to take the subject away from him, he once again looked toward the book. It depicted two crossed swords on the cover. He assumed it was a manual of some sort, showing off several combat techniques.

"One does not learn by reading, but by doing." He commented. Jun had learned the arts of combat through a regimen of intense psychical and psychological training. At all times, he was training under the tutelage of his father, the Emperor. Anyone could read something. It took one with true strength to do something.

OOC: Can I make a request? Can we all slow down on this rp? Maybe limit ourselves to one or two posts a day? Cause I can't post as often as you all and it would be hard for me to go along with it when i have to read 5 posts everytime i get on. Thanks, i'm really interested in doing this, just help me out here.

OOC np Tristan, I do one large post a day if i can on the weekdays as I work, so weekdays will be slow. I do like to get more posts in on the weekends. I also wait for everyone to respond before I do. Feel free to use your last post as a placeholder until you can post Tristan, and I will use this as the same.

ooc Not sure how to enter atm...will ic post soon after i get over writers block

OOC: Could we do a thing were we all post once, and once everyone post's once we move on to another round of 1 post per person. This way nobody is left behind. And then it also allows us to take our time and makes for a better RP.

ooc:very nice idea, yet noones noticed me dwarf :(

ooc:very nice idea, yet noones noticed me dwarf :(

OOC: Ok so as long as tann is good with it I think we can do that.

Emardin on the other hand, had noticed a rather out of place foreigner. He was wearing the garb of the Knights of the land to the north, a place which the people of Tannelorn, used to a more leisurely pace of life had barely noticed.

The man looked extremely uncomfortable, so he decided, in all his drunken glory to go over and help him relax. He brought Brunhilde with him, and sat down at his table, offering the man a drink, "Hello friend, I see you are a Knight, once I was a member of an order myself, so why did you come here, the ruins of Rillith Tormal? Or the beauties on the stage." He grinned and looked back behind him, a pair of women were now in the process of getting undressed as another sang an old elven love song.

"This promises to be quite the risque dance I assure, you, which one do you like best hmm? The Arendacilian, or the Elf?." he grinned then feeling Brunhilde's scathing stare without even seeing it. "Personally I find the Arendacilian girls to be the most beautiful." he laughed softly. Brunhilde giggled. "Oh Mardy, your ears wiggle so when you laugh, its so cute!" he gave a sheepish grin. True enough, his long, pointed ears did indeed wiggle, at least while he was this intoxicated.

Since leaving the Order, Emardin had become much more interested in mirth and merriment then his friend Johan, who seemed overly obsessed with the damn drow and the raid. Then again, Emardin thought to himself..he is half human.

Sir Edan sat still in his chair; he kept his arms crossed on the table in front of him as he listened to the half-elf ramble on in front of him, and the Arendacilian maid sitting so close to him she was almost in his lap. Comically Edan felt the sudden urge to impale himself and end his misery. However; Edan decided to at least embrace little conversion, even if it was with an annoying elf.

Edan conjured up the strength and sat upright in his chair. With a deep breath in he began to tell as the reason why he was in this establishment. "Well friend I come from the lands to the north and over the river called Providence. There I serve the King of Providence, and the Duke of the Middle Duchy as a Knight of the Blood Vine. However, due to my extreme lack of luck I have been sent by a priest of Nuada to become a Knight-Errant in a quest for knowledge." He paused for a moment to take in a deep breath from his long winded speech. "And now here I am, in this most unholy establishment...” He mumbled as he brushed the crumbs off of his olive tunic. The girls on the stage began their dance as the hoops and hollers began to sound from the crowd below. This again was not the place Edan would find himself on a normal day, he was more of a work hard, play little kind of person. "So my elf friend, what brings you here to this place..." Edan looked around with a bit of disgust before he continued ", and into the company of this fine lass?"

ooc: starting from tristans post, heres my one for this round!
IC:

After getting his tankard, and muttering a thanks underneath his breath, he moved to take a seat at a table next to an odd group, a Knight, who looked more like he would fit in a church, a elf or a half breed of a elf, both as pitiful as each other, and a attarctive female.

Bringing his tankard up to his mouth, which was hidden behind his "Iron beard" so to speak, he guzzled down a few gulp before muttering a vile obcenity.

Reaching under his coat, he fiddled around for a bit before finding his trusty flask, opening it up he tipped some Dwarven Ale into it, before drinking some more
"Ahhh" he sighed, "Thats much better" Ale of other specieies, barr that of the goblins didnt have the same flair as Dwarven ale, that being said it was almost 80% pure alcohol, it would make even a dragon wince, or so the stories told leaning back into his chair, and taking of his faded, yet still trusty helm and placing it besides him, he yawned contently and watched the act.

Ariakan pulled lightly on the reins bringing his mount to a slow trot as he made his way down the streets of Eolamir's Hold.

The town struck a cord with Ariakan as he had visited many like it during his time amongst the living. Now corrupted with a dark heart and undead although he did not appear to be, it was because of this unique characteristic that he was often sent out into the realms of the living to do his master's bidding.

His dark armor concealed beneath several layers of white and red robes and his face hidden away beneath the hood he dismounted in front of a small tavern oddly a watchtower built across from it.

Tying his white stallion to a post outside he entered the tavern quietly, his footsteps were silent as he made his way towards the bar, speaking very softly he ordered his drink and then made his way to a corner of the room where he began observing and eavesdropping on the many conversations taking place

Johan, feeling rather sheepish about the manuals and how the stranger had obviously viewed them. He was about to explain that an accomplished swordsman always attempts to learn new techniques, in whatever way he can when Selsharril strode up. She smiled sweetly at the both of them, realising the strangers reaction to her was almost as amusing as Johan's. She stood with one leg on a table, revealing a great deal of leg and almost what was under her too short skirt.

"Johan knows this better then most of the men in this establishment, tales of his deeds are already being sung in Taverns across Heronor province, and some in the crown lands." she grinned coyly at him. "Though, now that I Selsharril Aerothil, the Darksong bard have chosen to travel with this brave young warrior, I am sure that his deeds shall be known by all, from the lowliest peasant to the high king Rendacil himself." at her proclamation, several people in the crowd started to crowd around her.

"Johan, we leave for Rillith Tormal tommorow afternoon, we cannot wait any longer, though we will wait long enough for your moon elf friend to sober up." she winked at him and went with the crowd, proclaiming herself at every step of the way.

Johan turned once more to Jun. "I apologise for the interruption, but it is true, I am no stranger to the battlefield, however I cannot consider my own abilities and skills to be complete or perfect in any way. So I strive to learn."

++++

Emardin grinned at the response of the Knight Edan. "Well met Edan, I am Emardin, this is Brunhilde, I met her just today actually."

Emardin then considered the young Knights quest. "Knowledge you seek, well there is plenty of it to be found in this land, though I believe this establishment was the wrong place to start your search. I believe we will be leaving for the Ruins of Rillith Tormal within the week, and if it is alright with my companions I could ask if you could come along with us. Another strong sword arm is always welcome there. The place is haunted, two hundred thousand lives lost in a stroke. The Mythal, thats a magical spell mind you was twisted by the Elven magic that destroyed it, and when it was all over the corpses themselves rose from the ground." Emardin made a spooky looking gesture.

"Not to worry, most of them are shambling mindless skeletons, twenty five hundred years hence, some though...well thats why we can always use an extra sword. That and if you do seek knowledge, you will find no small amount of it in those ruins. It had been the capital of the Ancient Moon elf realm of Rillith Tormal, my ancestors were survivors from that benighted land, and have lived within Rillith mornil, in Heronor province since those days." he smiled, pointing to the woman on the stage.

"Our land is now shared, the sun elves in the north, the crownlands to the north, and south east...pretty much anything outside of Heronor, Arendacil and Siluvair. Arendacil is a land of half elves, like her, almost half the Tel'quessir of that land are of mixed blood, while the rest of the folk are Arendacilian human or like me, Moon elves."

Emardin realised that Brunhilde was getting anxious, he grabbed her rump gently and continued on. "It is knowledge you seek, and knowledge you have now gained..but what is a story compared to the experience. If you wish to see first hand the crumbling ruins of ancient elven glory, the dying vestiges of a powerful Mythal and the hordes of living dead that plague this land, then you may come with us." Emardin was at once being polite, trying to make the out of place foreigner feel a little more welcome, and secondly..he knew that though the shambling skeletons were little threat..greater dangers existed in that dark place. Extra swords were always welcome in Rillith Tormal. Even Banite ones.

Emardin however had made a slight mistake. At the least he did not mention the moon blade! Trips to Rillith Tormal were perilous enough without others catching wind of your journey, as good natured as the people of Tannelorn were..they were not immune to greed.

Had Emardin known, or even guessed at the nature of Ariakan, sitting only a table away he may not have said anything about the cities nature. However..he had let slip some very important details, one which a Death Knight would not be able to let pass. Unlike mortals, he did not need rest and would likely be able to reach Rillith Tormal far before they, if it was his choice...

++++


Johan was suddenly aware of the presence of another newcomer, this one hard to notice. Before him, in the flesh was a real life Dwarf, and not at all like in the story books, though as cussed. It distracted him momentarily from his conversation with Jun. He quickly went back to it. "As well as learning I strive to retrieve lost blades of myth and power, like Morgenstrahl." He stated the name proudly. He was referring to his new blade, a weapon far stronger then the blade he had lost to the Drow weapons master. The Dawnblade appeared only as a normal hand and a half sword, at least until drawn.

Johan kindly and patiently waited for Jun to respond, the soft spoken foreigner had so far chosen his words carefully and had only spoken after thought. A good trait in a swordsman, Johan thought. Then an uproarious laughter and shouting filled the air. Selsharril was on the stage, and even Johan could not help but look. She was teasing the crowd now, acting as if she herself would strip then she sat, straddling a chair, concealing what could be seen, or more appropriately not been seen being worn under her skirt, at least to most of the room.

She had played this trick a dozen times already, Johan and Jun would be able to see clear hints, but nothing more. She hoped this would fluster the pair more, she was still a sun elf. Though she found it adorable when Knights blushed and turned away, trying to protect her honour. So she indulged in her favourite game as she started to sing a throaty ballad.

There was a Knight who longed to wield a more impressive lance, to carry in to battle and to aid him in romance. A wizard overheard the knight and granted his request,the noble knight was overjoyed to see how he was blessed! the crowd started to cheer upon hearing the beginning of this reknowned, and ancient ballad.

Hey there, ho there and here's a lesson for you, be careful what you ask for, because wishes might come true! The crowd sang along drowning Selsharril out.

The knight went to a party with his weapon thus enhanced the lance made dining difficult, and tripped him when he danced. The next day at the tournament he won the jousting meets, for all who faced his fearsome lance fell laughing from their seats!

The drunken patrons erupted in to laughter and cheers, singing the chorus once more. Then she grinned and leaned towards the crowd.

The Knight espied a lady, who admired his staff of oak They'd scarce begun their gentle joust before the lance had broke.

The Knight sought out the wizard, who replied when brought to task "Your wish bespoke how long it was, and not how long it'd last. The crowd cheered as Selsharril got up slowly and bowed, taking her lute off her shoulder and preparing for another song.

Johan could not believe his eyes..or his ears after that display. He looked over at Jun, then the newcomer Ironbeard with not a little trepidation.

OOC no prob Tristan, though a warning there will be points [ie epic duels] where people do post more then once for everyone. However I would prefer that if we are going to do that, ie party splits up and seperate duels are being fought that we bold face a title for the fight-post segment, to make sure no responses get lost in a tide of sword fighting or the like.


Quintus, any way you want to use that info is up to you, and Kewen, go ahead and say hello to the group at the table any time you like. Also, that song is called Elminsters jest, a wonderfully funny song i couldnt NOT add in to this thread. Its just so perfect in the Tavern we are in.

ooc: far as i know ish, order goes semi-as follows. Tristan,Me,Quint,Tannerlorn whos next or do we go agains.

Jun considered Johan's words carefully, looking forward to the verbal debate over the fundamentals of learning weapon techniques. He was about to elaborate that a person could not know what they were doing wrong without supervision of someone more skilled when the elf woman came up to to them, placing her foot on the table, showing a good deal of herself. Jun looked directly at her, ignorant of the gesture. Back home, a woman's honor was considered totally and utterly equal to that of a man's, and many women had held very prestigious positions within the Empire. The founder of the Empire was, in fact, an Empress.

"Johan knows this better then most of the men in this establishment, tales of his deeds are already being sung in Taverns across Heronor province, and some in the crown lands. Though, now that I Selsharril Aerothil, the Darksong bard have chosen to travel with this brave young warrior, I am sure that his deeds shall be known by all, from the lowliest peasant to the high king Rendacil himself."

So the man's name was Johan, and the woman, Selsharril. He looked to one, then the other, sizing them up. The elf woman seemed quite happy with herself, that flare of amusement playing in her eyes. Despite that, she seemed very confident about her abilities. This was one lady that didn't need protecting. Johan, however, seemed taken aback by her, nothing close to hate, but definitely nothing close to friendship.

"Johan, we leave for Rillith Tormal tommorow afternoon, we cannot wait any longer, though we will wait long enough for your moon elf friend to sober up."

And there was the air of adventure Jun had felt earlier. These two people, while trying to get at each other, were going somewhere together, doubtlessly with others to accompany them. Jun's curiosity was now piqued.

"I apologize for the interruption, but it is true, I am no stranger to the battlefield, however I cannot consider my own abilities and skills to be complete or perfect in any way. So I strive to learn."

Jun nodded thoughtfully. He was glad to hear that the good swordsman was not so confident of his skills that felt he no longer needed to learn anything new. He noticed that Johan glanced quickly in the direction of a much smaller man. This man, barely noticeable due to his height, and sported quite a beard. Johan returned his gaze to Jun, and said something else.


"As well as learning I strive to retrieve lost blades of myth and power, like Morgenstrahl."

Ah-ha! So that was the goal of this man's quest. We wished to recover this blade of power, do doubt in hopes of using it in some noble and virtuous manner. No matter what, it seemed that Johan simply wasn't capable of using it for evil. Jun opened his mouth to speak once again as Selsharril stood up on another table, and began to sing a song, gathering the cheers and jeers of the crowd around him. As the song went, Jun fought to keep back a grin. The song had a good rhythm to it, and was quite humorous. Back home, music was considered as serious a discipline as fighting, and Jun welcomed this comedic twist. As the sing died down, he turned back to Johan once again.

"Tell me more about this 'Morgenstrahl.'"

IronBeard, ulpled down the last of his fifth tankard, or was it his fifthieth? shaking his head he walked back to the bar again for a refill, he could probably drink this place dry and not feel hungover, such was the low strength of some of these brews moving back to his sppot, he found it occupied by a viarity of people, instead he chose a empty table, of course after retreving his helmet, with less violence then he expected which was to say none, his armoured figured sat down in a chair, quit near to a certain grouptalking about a blade of kinds his back to them, he drank and listened intently.

He fumbled with his beard for a second, as he struggled to think if he had heard the name Morgenstrahl before, he shruged and watched the lady, who after walking out from behind him getup to do a little ole act on the stage, he cheered and clapped along, his steel gloves chinking about, thats when he noticed his left glow was glowing a bright blue the runes etched upon its surface, in a intricate and honored war writed and turned upon its surface foul magicks were afoot, and Ironbeard dimmed the runes with a few soft words, the blue light fading away just a few moments later, but visible if someone was looking.

ooc: Dwarf -kind hate most magics, as such we use runes and various rune-craft to protect us from magicks and detect them. ranging from simple ones to tell you if said person is a wizard, or if this place is magically lit/magic emminating from it to more complicated ones with defend from battlemagicks and such along with detecting other nasty sorceries, so Quintus, watch out >.>

Emardin grinned at the response of the Knight Edan. "Well met Edan, I am Emardin, this is Brunhilde, I met her just today actually."

Emardin then considered the young Knights quest. "Knowledge you seek, well there is plenty of it to be found in this land, though I believe this establishment was the wrong place to start your search. I believe we will be leaving for the Ruins of Rillith Tormal within the week, and if it is alright with my companions I could ask if you could come along with us. Another strong sword arm is always welcome there. The place is haunted, two hundred thousand lives lost in a stroke. The Mythal, thats a magical spell mind you was twisted by the Elven magic that destroyed it, and when it was all over the corpses themselves rose from the ground." Emardin made a spooky looking gesture.

"Not to worry, most of them are shambling mindless skeletons, twenty five hundred years hence, some though...well thats why we can always use an extra sword. That and if you do seek knowledge, you will find no small amount of it in those ruins. It had been the capital of the Ancient Moon elf realm of Rillith Tormal, my ancestors were survivors from that benighted land, and have lived within Rillith mornil, in Heronor province since those days." he smiled, pointing to the woman on the stage.

"Our land is now shared, the sun elves in the north, the crownlands to the north, and south east...pretty much anything outside of Heronor, Arendacil and Siluvair. Arendacil is a land of half elves, like her, almost half the Tel'quessir of that land are of mixed blood, while the rest of the folk are Arendacilian human or like me, Moon elves."

Emardin realised that Brunhilde was getting anxious, he grabbed her rump gently and continued on. "It is knowledge you seek, and knowledge you have now gained..but what is a story compared to the experience. If you wish to see first hand the crumbling ruins of ancient elven glory, the dying vestiges of a powerful Mythal and the hordes of living dead that plague this land, then you may come with us." Emardin was at once being polite, trying to make the out of place foreigner feel a little more welcome, and secondly..he knew that though the shambling skeletons were little threat..greater dangers existed in that dark place. Extra swords were always welcome in Rillith Tormal. Even Banite ones.

Emardin however had made a slight mistake. At the least he did not mention the moon blade! Trips to Rillith Tormal were perilous enough without others catching wind of your journey, as good natured as the people of Tannelorn were..they were not immune to greed.

Had Emardin known, or even guessed at the nature of Ariakan, sitting only a table away he may not have said anything about the cities nature. However..he had let slip some very important details, one which a Death Knight would not be able to let pass. Unlike mortals, he did not need rest and would likely be able to reach Rillith Tormal far before they, if it was his choice...



Edan smiled for the first time in awhile, it was nice to have friends. "It is nice to meet such a fine elf as yourself, and such friendly people as yourselves in these parts." As he listened to the Elf speak of himself and the area he realized this could be his chance to find the knowledge he was seeking. The sooner he could find this the sooner he could get back home. "Ruins you say? And dead haunt it? A mystical blade?" he replied as the elf continued on. Edan seemed to grow more excited by this story as the moments trekked on. "I have delt with many dead in my adventures as a knight of the kingdom, and none are to be taken to lightly, no matter how mindless they are. But I do believe all dead are mindless, am I wrong?" he said as he waved his hand around in a circle. "What became of this ancient Elf realm? Were the dead to blame for its demise?"

Edan asked these questions as the elf continued to tell of the lands in the south, for not many men from the Kingdom of Providence know much of the south, or any land outside of their boarders for that matter. This may be a bad thing for the people of Providence, and Edan just may be able to remedy that. As the elf finished his story, Edan sat intently watching and listening, this was the knowledge he was looking for. "I would be most happy to accompany you on this journey! When do we and our companions leave?" He said with ernest.

OOC: Sorry for the short post.

Emardin continued, full of mirth and more then a little spirits, however he was still in control of his wits..to a point. "Aye, most of the dead are mindless, though there are those who still possess a glimmer of their old intelligence, others..dark shades of their former lives, and it is those we would do best to avoid and would most fear. As for the cause of the demise..some of the dead indeed." he chuckled. "The elves of Rillith Tormal fell to a concerted invasion of demon spawned orcs, orogs and other abominations. To hear Johan and his ilk say it, it was the sun elves of Siluvair that were the cause." he grinned pointing back to his friend.

"Still, in the end, the men of Arendacil and the Sun elves of Siluvair stopped the horde, with the aid of the remnants of Rillith Tormal. I am one of the descendents of the moon elves of that kingdom, as is Johan. Many of our kin live in Arendacil proper or here in the crown lands, but our kingdom is no more..only the hollow shell of Rillith Mornil remains, and those grim people would be best avoided."

Emardin stopped to look up at Selsharril as she started to pluck a few chords with her lute, tuning it properly in preparation for her next song. "We leave tommorow after waking, and early. Noon as the sun dial says it." Emardin then realised that as a foreigner, they did not share the same dread of the night. Tannelornians universally slept till noon, only going to bed after four in the morning, past the witching hour. This was because the dead hate the light of day and slink back to their crypts and burials long before the light came, and because the elven rythm's of life took hold. Many ceremonies of both Nobanion and the Seldarine took place under moon light. Morning was a time of sleep, the afternoons and night's were for work, and living it up to the fullest.

"Rillith Tormal is not the only place the dead plague us from, whereas some nations have plagues of bandits, orcs or greenskins, our legacies have risen the dead and they do not rest easy in these lands. Sleep comes late to us, for the morning light chases them away." Emardin looked up at Selsharril now as a single crisp clear note cleared her lute.

She started to tap her foot gently and play the lute, a soft, sad melody filled the tavern and all conversations ceased. Selsharril glanced over to Johan and started to sing softly.

Falmar tul'e don'i amrun tul. Nat'Tul sani'aut dara rato aen nauva wann ea'i lomei.

Noss ilye qaelume alye' naust, noss lant cel, sani ta ilye kelea.

She looked over at Johan, knowing that this song would make him at least think about what it is he was doing. There was far more at stake then just a Moon Blade, though Selsharril would not let on a hint of it until she knew Johan was reliable, and worthy of being the focus of her newest song.

Eller nauva iire da calim nauva cal, imya i morin e hiraeth tanya noss somti.

e sina calim nauva ngwea tumba e'arya, a' da winya amar tanya sa quante yassen

mela

Selsharril flashed another look at Johan, then looked up, closing her eyes, with heartfelt emotion she sang the final verse, for Johan's benefit as much as for hers. Not all in the bar could speak or understand elven, but enough did to have them looking jealously at Johan, who despite himself was starting to blush. It was not that he was that attracted to Selsharril, pretty as she was, but simply the implied meaning in the song, while not risque at all, could lead to many making assumptions.

I sint'ta I tyav ta, dos for eska n'alaquel a' mi naust, I sint'ta I tyav ta, dos for

eska n'alaquel a' mi naust.

The crowd was mystified, though Johan was not. He became a bit more sullen at that, knowing exactly what it was Selsharril had done. She had used bardic magic to calm the inn and to bolster everyones spirits. The fact is, it was harmless magic, much like any bard would unleash when singing, but to Johan it was simply more sun elf arrogance. He dismissed the girl, and the fact she had been looking right at him while singing several of the lines of that song. Several lines that had many of the patrons looking and grinning at him. Many thought he was about to get a chance of a lifetime..none thought he would refuse it even if it were offered.

Johan turned back to Jun. "Morgenstrahl..Morgenstrahl was a blade forged by men of the west, long ago. It found its way here through a foreign adventurer, it had eventually wound up in the posession of a woman bard, Aeliria Silvercrown. She was of my kin, well my elven kin the moon elves. She lost the blade in Dunlending keep, a hundred miles to the east." he looked over, noticing that the dwarf, a strange enough sight in these lands starting to glow, he cast a simple detection spell, to see if the dwarf was up to any nonsense and continued speaking. "Strange folk the dwarves." he said quietly. "Morgenstrahl means morning light in the tongue of the westerners who forged it. Its a hand and a half sword, though heavily enchanted and forged from purest gold." he pulled the sword proudly from its scabbard, only a few inches of the blade showed but still it literally glowed with the light of dawn.

"Dawnblades are rare and incredibly powerful tools against the undead and those with evil hearts." Selsharril had snuck back to the table. "Only those of good heart can use them, and Johan has proven himself capable. Of course I doubt he will tell you the story of how he got it, such a modest Knight." Selsharril purred, getting closer to Johan as she said so. She truly enjoyed this, because even though he knew she was trying to get to him, he still reacted, ever so slightly.

She did not even realise that his intense dislike of her stemmed mainly from her heritage, that his first impression was based on the sad tale of Rillith Tormal. Siluvair had unleashed devastating high magic on the orcish and demonic horde outside of Rillith Tormal, even as Heronor was being settled by the Arendacilians. The magic disrupted the Mythal and killed hundreds of thousands on both sides with terrible plagues. In the days since, the Siluvair willingly abandoned such spells, still retaining much high magic, but carefully forgetting the spells that destroyed an empire of their kin. It was not intentional, it had simply gone out of control when the minions of the Demonic infiltrators had started to tamper with the Mythal itself from the outside.

In the end, the entire city, and army rose from the dead days after..further scattering the surviving moon elves and giving them no choice but to live with the Arendacilians. They forever lost their kingdom, and their culture..and Johan's family was descended from those that had managed to retain something of their past. The elves of Rillith Mornil bore a grudge against Siluvair, and even Arendacil for stealing their history, their future and their kin.

Selsharril on the other hand, assumed that Johan was just being a stuffy, shy little knight..all in all just too cute for words. "He went in to one of the most dangerous parts of the city to retrieve the blade, and as far as anyone knows." she grinned and made a serious face and spoke deeply. "He did what he had to do."

Johan could take no more. "I apologise friend, but I have a long day ahead of me and I think it best to retire to my quarters." he bowed towards Jun, and even Selsharril and she pointed at herself, then upstairs grinning at Johan. He responded by narrowing his eyes and storming off. "He is a little sensitive that one, at least when it comes to his exploits. To hear him tell it he doesn't do anything, but I assure you that boy is more driven then any I have ever met." she smiled, sweeping her hair from her face and continuing. "You kind sir, what brings you to our fair land." Selsharril smiled warmly at Jun, awaiting his response




OOC

Ok quintus respond whenever you can but read TG's first. I am making sure i get a post in tonight before the work week. Kewen if you want to introduce yourself now the chance, there have been several displays of magic tonight, I warn you though, Tannelorn is a land filled with magic, so hopefully your dwarf Ironbeard will be one of the more open minded members of his clan, luckily he is in the more open minded part of Tannelorn, The crown lands.

ooc: do not fear, he is open minded tannerlorn, he dosnt mind the use of magick, just who its used on.

IC
Ironbeard sniffed, as liquid began to pool at his eyes, he wondered what affected him so? It could not be the beer and he shook his head as if to dispell such thoughts, He was entraced by the Velli(another dwarf word for elf) Bitch, and the words, they flowed as freely and naturally as a river and his Ironheart, seemed to melt and crumble into the river, he relaxed as the bardic magic soothed, and cajooled him of his problems, and his legacy, when he saw his helmet, it showed the tell tale signs that magic, of the perceptionkind was being used and his feelings of elatedness were being dispelled quickly.

More so to the point, was the atmoshpere of the bar, was changing rapidly calming and sooothing, but that would soon change Ironbeard chanted a few quick words, and the auroa of peace disapeared from around, replaced with the soft crackle as archaic Dwarven runes, at the bidding of there master, shone dimply across patcches of his armour.

Many envied the wealth of any dwarf, and had used magicks to confuddle and confuse them, robbing them of there money this along with other things had created afestering hate for most magicks, along with the earth fathers teachings, most magicks were dispised too fortunatly, Ironbeard was the more open minded dwarf, but not for the obvious reasons.

When the last of the happy feelings, were dispelled from the Dwarf, ones of loneliness and dispair returned to its home, while many people felt the feelings of the bardic magick, they would also feel the sting of runecraft, as trails of Ironbeards feelings ones of dispair, anguish and loneliness, the feelings one gets, when one knows he has been shunned by his whole society. many a bar patron wondered as to what these f eelings ment, and others wept silently, Ironbeard stood up and confronted the Velli

He had been listening to there conversations, and was quite intrigued and jealous at the same time, but that did not stop the instinct, which had been seeded throught the dwarven lines to react to magic, he said rather softly, but with an edge to his voice
"Velli,"he addressed her, tho she might not know what it ment the ton certainly ment it in the tounge of humans it would be close to "Elf-breed" a rather offensive name by dwarf standards "You should know better, then to cast your petty magicks upon a Dwarf warrior of--" he was cut off, as he clutched his face for a second, intesnt pain wwracked his face but it subsided quickly, what had previously been bare skin, showed a blasing single letter, one that all dwarfs feared, the sigh of Hekt, God of the powers below, of lies and snaking deception, the brand given to heretics, "Upon any dwarf, of any standing" he corrected himself rather quickly, as the brand disapeared serving its purpose.

ooc2: basically, the brand this is on his face, because mr Ironbeard(whos true name i wont reveal yet) has a history, a rather intriguing history, and that brand on his face is to remind him of what hes done, and stop him from claiming any remains of what he once was any attempt to remove it, and the brand kills its host with magic :D

he may seem grumpy, thats because hes jealous and hes been exiled for a long..long..time.

Ariakan had been listening intently to the conversation coming from the slightly inebriated Emardin. He scoffed quietly to himself at his interpretation of the undead..one was amongst him, in the blatant view of him at that very moment and he had failed to realize it.

Ariakan scowled, the young female sun elf's harmonious tune sent a stinging pain through his blackened heart as he thought back to days of old, back to when he was alive. And he and his wife had sung the tune to their daughters when they were young. Slowly and unconsciously Ariakan began softly singing along with the tune and filling in where the sun elf left off.

Abruptedly he stopped himself from continuing on the tune, throwing back another hard drink and pushing his memories to the side, the bards magic had little effect on a soul like Ariakan's.

Continuing his eavesdropping he scoffed at the talk of Dawnblades, he doubted the younger knight would take much effort to dispatch, however Ariakan held his temper and upon the knights retirement he rose walking across the tavern and out the door, saying nothing to anyone and leaving only a small amount of coinage to the bartender.

Although now corrupted by evil and undead Ariakan was still a knight and man if one wanted to call him that of honor. Making his way to where the group had kept their mounts Ariakan gently placed a single black rose on each of the groups mount's securing it to their reins before mounting himself and setting off for Rillith Tormal he would have a day's ride on the group of adventurers.

As he rode Ariakan lifted his hand and a small winged creature rose from a black mist, after speaking to the small bird like figure in a dark tongue it flew from his hand heading south.

Ariakan continued on, after leaving the town at near full gallop as he was acutely aware of a great opportunity awaiting him at Rillith Tormal

"Morgenstrahl. Morgenstrahl was a blade forged by men of the west, long ago. It found its way here through a foreign adventurer, it had eventually wound up in the posession of a woman bard, Aeliria Silvercrown. She was of my kin, well my elven kin the moon elves. She lost the blade in Dunlending keep, a hundred miles to the east."

Jun listened to the good Knight's description of the ancient blade with great interest. Such a powerful weapon was indeed a worthy reward of such a quest. Suddenly, a strange feeling of calm came over him, and he instantly felt good, as if he had had too much wine, even though he had not had anything since he entered the tavern. In short, it was quite disarming. What a strange place, this was. And what in Heaven's name was an Elf?

"Morgenstrahl means morning light in the tongue of the westerners who forged it. Its a hand and a half sword, though heavily enchanted and forged from purest gold."

Jun watched intently as Johan proceeded to pull his own sword from it's scabbard, the blade sparkling in the light with a strange ethereal feel. It looked like a strong blade, and Jun was sure it had seen the blood of many enemies.

Getting back to Morgenstrahl, Jun couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it. His studies in Alchemy back home had taught him that gold was, to his surprise, a very soft metal. He remembered how surprised he was to learn that different metals had different compositions. But from what he had learned of Johan in their short time together, Jun was sure that the Knight wasn't so foolish as to seek a blade that didn't work.

Feeling a presence, Jun looked up from the table, seeing the graceful form of Selsharril with them yet again.

"Dawnblades are rare and incredibly powerful tools against the undead and those with evil hearts. Only those of good heart can use them, and Johan has proven himself capable. Of course I doubt he will tell you the story of how he got it, such a modest Knight."

Jun nodded, gaining a firm grasp of the strangeness behind Johan's sword. A noble Knight indeed.

Suddenly, Johan's face flashed a look of disgust, and Jun was surprised to see him standing up to leave, pausing only briefly to say his goodbyes. Jun wondered why this was so. They were deep in discussion until Selsharril had come to join them yet again. Jun pondered of the two some sort of past.

Selsharril sat down in the chair that was, until a few seconds ago, occupied by Johan, smiling a warm smile.

"He is a little sensitive that one, at least when it comes to his exploits. To hear him tell it he doesn't do anything, but I assure you that boy is more driven then any I have ever met. You kind sir, what brings you to our fair land."

Jun's eyebrow perked at the question. While he was expecting the question some sooner or later, he still couldn't help but feel a little bit of apprehension when it actually came. What was he to tell her? That he was the Crown Prince of his homeland? That his bloodline was that of Emperors and Empresses? Well, of course not. That would be suicide. He reached for the brim of his sunhat.

"I am... a traveler of sorts. I go where fate takes me. And now..." he pulled off his sunhat, revealing his face (http://www.hotflick.net/flicks/2006_Curse_of_the_Golden_Flower/Thumb/006CGF_Jay_Chou_021.jpg) (OOC: Minus the mustache...and the blood...and the mess.) for the first time.

"...it seems fate has led me somewhere...interesting." He smiled. He felt he would get to know Johan and Selsharril a lot more in the coming days. After all, there was no way they could stop him from going with them.

-Snip-

"Aye, however; my people have not had many dealings with the dead. All we know of them is what we hear from travelers from afar. This trip should be quite an eye opener for me then." He said with a small laugh as he raised his hand to signal the bar keeper. "Cup of water friend!" he called out. With a nod the barkeeper went on with the request. Edan now sat intrigued by Emardin's story of Rillith Tormal, Orcs and Ogers were no strangers to Providence for they have ran into many orcs in their quest to perg their lands of evil. This adventure will be a very new one for Edan, no more saving maidens from lustful men, or rescuing travelers from the grasp of goblins, this was the real deal.

"Noon? I wake much earlier than that. But if that’s what makes you happy." Edan replied with a confused look. "When I was a squire my teacher made me get up every day at five in the morning, just before the sunrise. At that time I would work on my morning chores, which was feeding the horses, cleaning the stables, and then saddling the horses for our morning ride. Ah the good old days, no bars full of drunks, no dead rising to kill us if we woke up to early, and certainly no..." He was stopped by a feeling of calmness that came over him. His shoulders relaxed as the music filled his ears, and soon he found himself sunk into his seat watching the fair Sun elf maiden string her lute.

Selsharril was about to answer Jun's question, when she was interrupted by Ironbeard. She watched his outburst with more then a little shock and annoyance, then smiled back at him politely. "Ahh honoured A'tel'Quessir, I apologise if I offended you, but bard's of my skill cannot help but add some small measure of emotion to our art. That "magic" as you call it is only a minor skill, and most harmless I assure you..in fact..I couldn't sing without at least some small effect, such is my training." she looked the dwarf over, noticing the large amount of runic magic the dwarf possessed. Selsharril allowed Ironbeard a seat at the table she shared with Jun and continued.

"Well traveller, I would definetly call this tavern an interesting place, earthy and filled with good folk, the bread and butter of Tannelorn. Tommorow however, we travel for somewhere even more..interesting, if it suits you of course." she grinned. "Its dangerous of course, and if you do wish to come simply be here in the tavern at noon as the sun dial calls it." she looked outside, it was getting very late, soon it would be the hour of relief, four in the morning and those in this tavern would retreat to their beds, even as the dead that walked the forests around Rillith Tormal returned to their resting spots, to avoid the rays of the sun. "It has been a long day." she smiled and stood stretching. "I must retire after seeing to a few things, after all a woman needs her rest." she smiled. "I will see you two in the morning I hope." she bowed and was about to go upstairs when Johans Elven cat, his Cath'quessir stopped in front of Selsharril and growled. "A'tel'Quessir no bother Johan!!!" he said in a high pitched meowling voice. She stared at the cat increduously. "I wasn't heading to see your master little one, only to sleep." she smiled and tried to pet him, he fussed and hissed, she pulled out a small treat and his eyes shone like diamonds. "Pretty kitty want a treat?" she coo'd. "Can I has! Can I has!" he cried, she tossed the food down the stairs and ran up them giggling furiously. She loved Cath'quessir, even rude ones.

She shook her head and waved good night to Ironbeard and Jun, then raced up the stairs.

++++

Emardin chuckled at Edan's little outburst. "It can be hard being away from home, unless your home is a heronor." he laughed at that joke. "Its not that the dead come to kill us if we awake to early, but that over a thousand years we have simply shifted the way we sleep. We know, without a doubt the undead seek shelter at the hour of relief, four strokes past twelve..lest they be caught in the morning light. Then we know we can rest easily in our beds without fear of some nasty drooling gibbering thing setting upon us as we sleep..that and the worship of Nobanion and the Seldarine often takes place after moon rise, almost all of the rituals of our faith's are at night. So therefore it was more natural for us to change the way we slept." Brunhilde was now at this point, more then a little tired and more then a little drunk, she started to whisper lewd suggestions, slur really, in to Emardin's ear. Emardin looked outside to see the position of the moon. "Edan my friend, if you wish to join us, as I said be ready at noon..also sleep in if possible, we will travel a few hours after dusk, once its dark however..we set camp and post watch..no fires I am afraid." Emardin bowed to Edan and helped Brunhilde up the stairs.


They left the three travelers to finish their drinks and rest on their own time.

++++

Dawn came and went, at about ten in the morning the first shopkeepers started to prepare for the day. at noon inside the Tavern however, many were awakening for tea or pork steaks to help chase away the hangovers incurred the night before.

Johan strode down the stairs, wearing a blue long coat, over a lighter blue tunice. He wore long, loose legged trousers tucked in to a pair of boots that went half way up his calf. He had Morgenstrahl at his waist and another blade tucked behind it. He strode to the front of the tavern and ordered a tea and some breakfast, waiting for Emardin to rouse from his slumber..and for Selsharril..though he wished he could simply leave her behind..she knew where the Siamne moonblade was hidden, and not he.

***Rillith Tormal***

Ariakan had ridden through the night, passing un molested by the undead due to his own heritage and power. He passed through deep, dead forests, still standing after twenty five centuries. He could see the ruined city rising from the depths of the forest for leagues before him, and its fine elven architecture was still in almost pristine condition, aside from damage it suffered in the battle. As he entered he could feel long dead whispers of the past, hear cries of suffering that hung still in the air..but more he could feel not one, but two powerful presences in the ruins, presences that beckoned to him like a dark jewel in the night.

Ariakan dismounted from his horse, his steps were heavy against the soft earth as he led his steed deeper into the forgotten city.

Atune with the likes of evil and darkness he felt a great presence here and sought it out, perhaps haphazardly to some Ariakan however was more than confident in his abilites, both arcane and with a blade.

Using his mastery of the dark arts Ariakan centered in on the source of one of the great evil powers which lay hidden in the ruins of the ancient city.

"I am Ariakan, servant to the dark lord Soth, I command thee to show thyself now."

As Ariakan yelled out his command he drew his blade and readied himself for combat scanning the area with his keen eyes for any that would oppose him

ooc: what does A'tel QUessir mean?
IC:

Ironbears self importance was tweaked, and he grumbled, what the Velli said, was reasonable he knew it, but it would still not over come the many generations and tradations of fear and hatred to magicks the Dwarven folk have built up.

Doing a Micro bow with his head, to the man at the table he bid is farewell, and headed off to secure a room for the night, stepping over the little cat that hissed at him.

++++

Dawn came, and the tell tail signs of it came through the windows, in small beams and cracks. The Heavily clad figure on the bed, twisted and turned as he attempted to shake off the dreams, mouthing the words "Im no tratior! Father help me!"

He bolted awake, sitting upright on his bed, sweat creasing his brow as he frowned, he tried to shake it off, but the memories of that fatefall day flooded back to him.

Gimli, Son of Gimlir you are pronouced guiltly of the crimes laid before you, One count of First Degree Murder of Mistres Vao, Wife to Gimlir, Two counts of Herasey to the EarthFather you have one chance now, how do you plea?
A Solem voice said quietly, but that did not subtract from the power it eminated
"My lord, I am not a tratior! it wasnt me, I swear it mylord please..." the small figure cried, the Judges looked down upon the small boy with no pity, and no remorse as they began to sentance the young child, of the Fourteenth Season to exile.
"Father" the boy wailed "Help me!" Ironbeard fell out of his dreams, and paced around the room, cradling his head trying to get rid of the memories, but it was not so, such was the punishment of Exile doomed to wander, and relive that fateful day...

After regaining his composure, he walked out of his room, and down the staircase and proceeded right to get himself a large tankard and a big meal. taking note of the otherguy.

Jun walked out from the inn he had stayed the night. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before, with his sunhat firmly over his head once again. He handed two strange-looking coins to the stable boy for his services, to which the boy stared strangely at for a while, before shrugging and putting it in his pocket. Seconds later, he emerged again with his horse, to which he rode over to the tavern he had been in the night before, waiting for the others to join him.

OOC Kewen, A'tel'Quessir means "Almost people" its a racial slur for half elves..or anyone who isnt a sun elf really, in Siluvair, and the people of Rillith Mornil use it as a slur against Sun elves in Siluvair. Also, the Cat, boots was talking to Selsharril, not to Ironbeard, lol its more then ok though I should have described it a tad better i just didnt have time to before work.

Emardin chuckled at Edan's little outburst. "It can be hard being away from home, unless your home is a heronor." he laughed at that joke. "Its not that the dead come to kill us if we awake to early, but that over a thousand years we have simply shifted the way we sleep. We know, without a doubt the undead seek shelter at the hour of relief, four strokes past twelve..lest they be caught in the morning light. Then we know we can rest easily in our beds without fear of some nasty drooling gibbering thing setting upon us as we sleep..that and the worship of Nobanion and the Seldarine often takes place after moon rise, almost all of the rituals of our faith's are at night. So therefore it was more natural for us to change the way we slept." Brunhilde was now at this point, more then a little tired and more then a little drunk, she started to whisper lewd suggestions, slur really, in to Emardin's ear. Emardin looked outside to see the position of the moon. "Edan my friend, if you wish to join us, as I said be ready at noon..also sleep in if possible, we will travel a few hours after dusk, once its dark however..we set camp and post watch..no fires I am afraid." Emardin bowed to Edan and helped Brunhilde up the stairs.


They left the three travelers to finish their drinks and rest on their own time.

++++

Dawn came and went, at about ten in the morning the first shopkeepers started to prepare for the day. at noon inside the Tavern however, many were awakening for tea or pork steaks to help chase away the hangovers incurred the night before.

Johan strode down the stairs, wearing a blue long coat, over a lighter blue tunice. He wore long, loose legged trousers tucked in to a pair of boots that went half way up his calf. He had Morgenstrahl at his waist and another blade tucked behind it. He strode to the front of the tavern and ordered a tea and some breakfast, waiting for Emardin to rouse from his slumber..and for Selsharril..though he wished he could simply leave her behind..she knew where the Siamne moonblade was hidden, and not he.



"Aye, Home is where the heart is, that is what they say." Edan nodded. As the night at the tavern began to wrap up, Edan felt a little weary of all the commotion. For the past 5 hours he had sat in the same creaky wooden chair, not one time getting up to stretch. "I think my friend, it is time for me to retire." He said as he rose with a groan from his seat. "Noon it is, I will make sure to be up by then." Edan acknowledged as he pushed in the chair. The Tavern was now beginning to quite down. Drunks were now sleeping peacefully in their mugs of half drunk ale, and dancers were now retreating backstage. Edan breathed a sigh of relief. He would finally be able to get out of this dump. With that he walked up stairs to his room for a good night's sleep.

Throughout the night Sir Edan slept with nay restlessness. His mind slipped off into the Netherlands’ of dreams and rested peacefully before the journey ahead. At the stroke of 10 o'clock Edan awoke to the freshness of the day. Never before had he slept in as long. It was quite refreshing to him, and yet a very new feeling. He quietly stepped over to the window and gently opened it, and looked out over the town. The streets were almost empty, besides the random traveler beginning their daily journeys. Edan looked up at the sun which was almost a quarter of the way up in the sky. "It must be around 10 o'clock." He mumbled as he closed the window. Strutting over to a small chest he produced a key from his tunic pocket. Unlocking the iron padlock on the chest he creaked open the lid. Edan then dressed and prepared for the day ahead.

Not 20 minutes later, Edan marched down the stairs of the tavern to wait for his companions. He wore a Red and White Tunic of the Middle Duchy, under which was a light chain mail coat. Wrapped around his tunic was a brown snakeskin belt to which a sheathed flame-bladed sword hung. The sword’s hilt was sliver and dotted with red gems, a typical sword of a Knight of the Red Vine. On the back of his belt, a line of 4 steel throwing daggers rested, which were ready to be thrown at an instant. Slung across his back was a medium sized heater shied bearing the emblem of the Blood Vine on it. Edan was ready for the journey and it was not an hour and a half before he was scheduled to leave. To pass the time, Edan ordered a cup of water and a plate of mutton while relaxing in the corner of the room.

OOC: Dead maybe?

ooc: nup i wait for the Tannerlorn.

Johan noticed the man he was speaking with in the evening, then looked up and rolled his eyes as Selsharril came down the stairs, a bright smile on her face. She waved to Johan, who just stood there resignedly. Emardin was next, stumbling down in the grip of a massive hangover. Selsharril walked over to Jun and waved to him, as well as waving at the dwarf, Ironbeard. "Well you two, I have horses, well a horse and a mule waiting outside." she grinned. "Johan, come we have work to do." Johan glared at her and stepped forward. "I am not some common peasant, easily dazzled by the charms of the "famous" Selsharril, do not expect me to come at your beck and call, we go when I say we go." he walked over to the table and started to order some breakfast from a nearby waitress.

Emardin on the other hand, noticed Edan and sauntered over, holding a steaming cup of tea. "Greetings, friend, I hope you are ready for the trip." he sat down and started to drink, watching Johan and Selsharril start to squabble. From the looks of it, she was really getting mad at Johan, who continuously insisted on having a good, hearty breakfast before setting out, and that if it was indeed his quest, he would indeed be in charge, not her. It wasnt that he particularly wanted to be in charge, as he made clear a few times, but that he would rather follow a blind, drunken idiot in to a battle in the abyss.

After Johan had finished some eggs and a steak, he rose and got up to leave, nodding at Jun and Ironbeard to follow. "All right, we leave now, I hope your all ready to go." he walked outside, with a fuming Selsharril hot on his heels. Outside were horses and equipment, properly prepared and fresh for the journey. "All right everyone, if any of you have your own horses, and wish to carry any..extra equipment of any sort, feel free to use these horses to carry some of it." she smiled sweetly, glancing over at Johan, who mounted his horse, uncaring about Selsharril's comments. They started to ride out of the city, Johan leading, not looking back to see if anyone followed.

***Rillith Tormal***

Ariakan could hear the whispers growing stronger, as he strode through the ruined courtyards he could almost hear a voice. Then he could, as well as a pull straight towards the center of the city. Softly it came, then the voice could be heard. Ariakan, we have waited for you, come..come do not be late.
In the distance a massive ziggurat could be seen, and Ariakan was sure the whisper originated from that crumbling monument.

OOC

Sorry it took so long and sorry if its a tad short, as it took a while i decided our characters coulqd simply talk on the way, stopping off to make camp before entering Rillith Tormal in the day.

Jun sat silently in the tavern with the others, and watched as they ate their breakfast. He decided to eat a good breakfast as well, deciding that it would be best to have as much energy as possible for the coming adventure. Looking up, he noticed that Selsharril and Johan were arguing over some matter that Jun didn't care to know about. They'd better shape up when the fighting started, or it might end up being the death of them all.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Later...

Jun sat on his horse, sunhat obscuring his face, protecting it from the sun. Not that he really needed it here, the weather was too mild for that. The Tien wasteland back home, now THAT was something else. Giving his horse a gentle nudge, he accelerated to catch up with Johan.

"Haw far away is this place?"

OOC: post to come tomorrow.

Nodding to the Velli, he procceeded out of the door, follwing this Johan character, thinking to himself, that the race of men, were not worthy to this earth especially halfbreeds, there tempers

He huffed, and walked over to his horse, others would call it a pony, or a pack horse, but he tenderly pattered its shaggy mane and saddled it, and loaded his equipment, throwing his cloak over his back and leading the small pony out into the shade, he gave four short low whistles, and the horse kneeled before him, mounting it, it stood backup and walked off after Johan. briefly glancing at the Velli and giving her a somewhat sympathetic nod, as much as you would ever hope to get from any dwarf he looked forward and sighed.

Later.

He watched the other stranger pull up the moody Johan, Ironbeard not one to be left out, tapped his horse behind the ear softly with his hands, and Bug, the little buy eyed pony caught up relativly quickly intime to hear
"How far is this place.."

Johan noticed the man he was speaking with in the evening, then looked up and rolled his eyes as Selsharril came down the stairs, a bright smile on her face. She waved to Johan, who just stood there resignedly. Emardin was next, stumbling down in the grip of a massive hangover. Selsharril walked over to Jun and waved to him, as well as waving at the dwarf, Ironbeard. "Well you two, I have horses, well a horse and a mule waiting outside." she grinned. "Johan, come we have work to do." Johan glared at her and stepped forward. "I am not some common peasant, easily dazzled by the charms of the "famous" Selsharril, do not expect me to come at your beck and call, we go when I say we go." he walked over to the table and started to order some breakfast from a nearby waitress.

Emardin on the other hand, noticed Edan and sauntered over, holding a steaming cup of tea. "Greetings, friend, I hope you are ready for the trip." he sat down and started to drink, watching Johan and Selsharril start to squabble. From the looks of it, she was really getting mad at Johan, who continuously insisted on having a good, hearty breakfast before setting out, and that if it was indeed his quest, he would indeed be in charge, not her. It wasnt that he particularly wanted to be in charge, as he made clear a few times, but that he would rather follow a blind, drunken idiot in to a battle in the abyss.

After Johan had finished some eggs and a steak, he rose and got up to leave, nodding at Jun and Ironbeard to follow. "All right, we leave now, I hope your all ready to go." he walked outside, with a fuming Selsharril hot on his heels. Outside were horses and equipment, properly prepared and fresh for the journey. "All right everyone, if any of you have your own horses, and wish to carry any..extra equipment of any sort, feel free to use these horses to carry some of it." she smiled sweetly, glancing over at Johan, who mounted his horse, uncaring about Selsharril's comments. They started to ride out of the city, Johan leading, not looking back to see if anyone followed.

***Rillith Tormal***

Ariakan could hear the whispers growing stronger, as he strode through the ruined courtyards he could almost hear a voice. Then he could, as well as a pull straight towards the center of the city. Softly it came, then the voice could be heard. Ariakan, we have waited for you, come..come do not be late.
In the distance a massive ziggurat could be seen, and Ariakan was sure the whisper originated from that crumbling monument.

OOC

Sorry it took so long and sorry if its a tad short, as it took a while i decided our characters coulqd simply talk on the way, stopping off to make camp before entering Rillith Tormal in the day.

"Ah yes, it’s that time already? Well we best be off, before sundown... or errr whenever we stop to sleep." He mumbled not knowing what to say. As they stepped outside there were a number of horses waiting for them just as the other elf had said. Edan however, had his own horse, who he named cucumber after its favorite treat. As he saddled up his horse he strapped his sword and shield to the side of the steed. "Well my friends, I am ready when you are."