Tales of Faerun

[GrueMaster]

Kaji grumbled in irritation at the line before them. He had been excited, ecstatic, even, to attend a festival, especially a foreign one; he rarely got to go to the ones back home. And now you're stuck waiting... "Hi-chan..." the wu jen began blathering. "Would it be so horrible if we sped things up a bit?" The fire elemental looked at him with suspicious eyes, fearing what the crazy fool might suggest. "You and I, we could, you know, make a few people hot under the collar, or give them a bit of hotfoo- *Thud!* "Ow!" He exclaimed as the familiar chastised him with a fiery fist. "Kaji-kun, burning people ISN'T an alternative to speeding things up!" Kaji pouted. "I know, I know! No need for hitting me for the idea, though! I'm just so bored!"

 

"What do you know, the weak rat of a hedge-mage... The Plane of Fire must have frozen over for you to be in attendance here." A posh voice, dripping with contempt, called aloud, directed at Kaji. He turned, bewilderment turning to anger in an instant as he discovered the source of the insult to be the wizard that force-manhandled him during his initial stay in town. "You!" The wu jen began to step forward, ready for a fight, but Hi-chan intervened. "Master, you know better! Don't let him egg you on!"

 

"Your little campfire there is a bit mouthy to its master, isn't she? Such a weakling, allowing one's familiar to speak like it's an equal. Of course, it does seem to have a bit more sense than you do, so maybe that isn't such a bad thing."

 

Kaji trembled in rage at the impetuous man, ready to tear him asunder. Weak, am I!? But, he stayed his hand, remembering his promise to Ramesesama. You swore you wouldn't cause your friends any more trouble! With terribly great effort, he contained the fire rising within him and ignored the insulting stranger. "Hahah, I thought you were weak. Not even worth the attention I, Merethinus, wasted on you."

 

"Let's get a move on, yes?" Kaji said to his companions, inadvertantly raising the temperature around him. It grew uncomfortably warm in the space surrounding him as his anger simmered outward, but it got the line moving a little faster, at least...

 

 

"Um, is there a certain way we are supposed to walk to the ball together, Leif?" We'tak asked his clutchmate with a curious tilt to his head. "I saw all those softskins in dresses placing a hand on another softskin's arm, right about here..." He gestured, pointing at Leif's elbow. "I do want to learn what I can of this culture, but this time, I want to ask before making an assumption..."

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses nodded solemnly in agreement with his two fiery companions as the line moved forward one step at a time. Painful as this was to endure for one as impatient as Rameses, the fire genasi hoped that the gala's pleasantries would make this night one to remember. After all, he had gotten this far in order to attend with the appropriate attire and mindset. No one had to know that Rameses had aspired to let off some steam through his bloodied knuckles throughout the week while also working to pay for the outfit he now so proudly wore. Nevertheless, Rameses gave an audible sigh of relief when they were that much closer to the main entrance. It seems as though a particularly large cluster of attendees not unlike their own group had slowed the process of entry, and now the line seemed to be moving a little faster.

"Finally,"

He remarked under his breath, briefly running a hand through his hair. In all fairness, Rameses was slightly nervous with the idea of attending such a widely-anticipated event. The young man had never been much a socialite before he traveled the whole of the continent as a glorified vagabond, and all the time he'd spent on the road had taken its toll on his people skills. At the very least, Rameses was confident that the gala's refreshments would be sterling quality, and that alone was enough to excite him.

However, Rameses's recovering anticipation for the celebration once again took another hit when he overheard some pompous mage giving Kaji and Hi-chan a hard time. Quickly scowling, the fire genasi turned on his heel to face the man lingering near the near of their group, his szuldar flaring angrily when the man's onslaught of ridicule ceaselessly troubled his friend.

"Best shut that mouth before it gets you in more trouble than your parlor tricks can handle, Mere-thingus. I'd bet the hosts of this party wouldn't appreciate you endlessly mouthing off to anyone else here."

Rameses spoke with a biting sneer mingled with his sharpened words, intentionally butchering the mage's name just to spite him. There were two sorts of people that irked the fire genasi most; those who thought themselves better than others and those who enjoyed ridiculing odd folks like himself and Kaji for the Hells of it. Unfortunately, Rameses's burning gaze currently honed in on the mage that was both sorts bundled in one.

"Yes, indeed," The genasi replied to Kaji, walking alongside the wu jen and his fire elemental in case their unsavory associate felt any foolish desire to press his luck further.

Sure enough, a haughty scoff soon sailed over Rameses's shoulders and into his airs, and the sound was quickly followed by an equally frustrating remark from Merethinus, "Not only does that miserable excuse of a mage lack the competence to protect himself or demand respect from his familiar, but he also requires an oaf of a brute to speak for him? The east must produce rather pathetic spellcasters, indeed."

"And here I thought that such a socially-challenged worm would sooner hide away in some distant tower and feed their ego in solitude than attempt and fail to participate in any celebration," Rameses curtly responded, hoping that his jeering comment would fluster the man into silence.

They were nine attendees away from reaching the front door to the estate. If they could keep this game up and avoid conflcit from breaking out until they reached those doors, Rameses would be proud of himself.

Edited June 30, 2016 by FreemasonGamer

[josh900]

"A way to walk to the ball?" Leif asked the curious Thri'kreen, his questions raising a humorous idea in the mischievous half-elf's mind. "No, buuut there is a way one should enter it. Lets stop by the Inn, we need a keg of ale, a few of those over priced chocolate bars, a coat rack, and a bar of soap. What exactly for I dunno, but I bet we could come up with something with all that nonsense!" He said with a little too much enthusiasm, though he quickly realized that he was no doubt confusing We'tak even further than what he already was.

 

"Or we could just... go there like regular boring people.. and not have any fun and be miserable around all the stuffy nobles. Don't ever deal with those people if you can help it kiddo, they'll suck the life right out of ya." He said in a grim tone as he began the walk to the estate

-------------

 

For the past five generations the Elandril family had been among both the wealthiest and most powerful families in Furthinghome, and like all nobles in the magocracy this wealth and power came from their inherent magical talents. And so in celebration of the marriage of one of their members, the Elandril family threw everything they had into making the ball as memorable as possible, putting forth a considerable amount of time and their wealth into turning their estate into the hub of the city's festival. What might have come as a shock to some people was the fact that not a single extra copper went into the security for the place for a very good reason, they didn't need to.

 

The paranoia of Wizards outmatched greed nine times out of ten.

The locals all knew that the guards were merely for show, rumor had it that they were just illusions, and that the true guards of the estate were all hidden in plain sight. The leaves on a tree in the courtyard, a finch on the roof tops, the local calico that always seemed to be watching anyone that didn't live there. These were all said to be the true guardians of the Elandril fortune, and those rumors were half right.

 

The first of the golems seemed to appear out of thin air before it rushed the half-elf intruder. The second appeared in the place of a small tree that had been planted near the outer wall. The third guardian was certainly no golem, but a humanoid face which stretched out from the outer wall near where Sparrow had been creeping. "You are aware of course that they are handing out invitations back at the main gate yes?" The face said in a bored and somewhat annoyed tone and the two golems stood within arms reach of the thief. "No matter, you made your choice, now you have two options here, either you allow the golems to take you to the masters of the house so that they may decide your punishment... or you're dragged out through the sewers beneath the city, and thrown out into the runoff like the garbage you are. Do pick the second option. It's been decades since Potosa got any fun. These two simpletons just don't have the flair that the she beast has." Said the face, mentioning by name, a guard that had long ago been considered nothing more than a myth to the short lived inhabitants of the city. However among the long lived population, the screams of those dragged underground and through the city sewers still lingered in the ears of those unfortunate enough to have been using a toilet at the wrong time of night.

[Macman253]

Sparrow stopped in his tracks, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Fair enough... I was beginning to wonder why this place was so poorly secured." The Half-Elf stepped forward, "To be fair, I wanted nothing else but the payroll for the guards. If that is to influence your masters decision." He stated as he stopped well out of arms reach but kept his hands in view. He felt a lightning bolt of embarassment at how easily he was caught but he knew that he could not go toe to toe with a Golem, let alone two. He knew his best way out of this wasn't with strength but with charm... and if that failed it would be down to quick thinking and long legs.

 

"I go willingly and without resistance..." He said and gestured for the Golems to lead the way, he was not going to give the Face In The Wall the satisfaction of bumrushing him off the estate.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine was about to open her mouth to confirm to Rameses that yes, there were in fact lines like this in the afterlife, but was stopped when the atmosphere seemed to get significantly more humid, and the crowd began to act more agitated than they already were. Thus, she decided to keep her focus on them. People stood on tiptoes to view the progress they had made, looking out over perfectly coiffed heads of hair and ladies' elegant hats. The guards checking everyone at the door sped up significantly, now committing only a half-hearted effort to examining patrons for weapons and the like. The Doomguide did her best to ignore both the haughty jeers and the gawking that was happening all around them; the best thing to do in these situations was just let everything roll off....

 

At last, they were inside. The guards paused a moment at Maydiira's presentation, but a few whispered words from one of Rosalinde's ladies and they nodded her through.

 

The estate was as beautiful within as it was without, and it rivaled even the finest mansions Rhaine had seen Waterdeep; marble columns, gilded with gold, held aloft a tile-decorated ceiling above a grand entrance-way, which led into an even more spacious guest wing beyond. Crystal chandeliers glittered with magical firelight, and countless paintings and priceless woven banners hung along the walls between stained-glass windows. It was a gorgeous setting for Gregor and Rosalinde's wedding, which would commence in less than an hour...

[josh900]

"Well that's certainly a disappointment." The face sighed upon receiving Sparrow's answer. "I shall inform the lords of the manor, I'm sure they won't be too enraged at this interruption of the good lady's wedding." Said the face before sinking back into the wall.

 

The iron golems then formed a line, a golem to the front, Sparrow in the middle, and the other in the rear. They began their march into the manor, Pushing Sparrow along if he did not comply, ready to do far worse if he attempted to escape.

--------

 

Gante Demelin was already growing tired of all of this. Risen from the battlefield, the ball halls and idiotic fashions were getting on his last nerves. Miles to the north, the armies of Thay had taken Emmech out from under him, and yet even with the Reds so close he could feel their breath down his back, here the people were, celebrating as if all was fine with the world. The head of the Elandril house was giving away a daughter or grand-daughter in marriage and appeared to think that this union was the most important piece of business of the year.

He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and softly growled at it all. He was begging for any kind of distraction and jumped as soon as one appeared.

 

"Lord Elandril." The face in the wall appeared nearby, hoping to speak to the lord of the manor.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Gante warned as he watched the nearby lord fuss over the improper placement of a vase or some such stupidity. "He might just disenchant you for the interruption."

 

"Oh dear. Well thank you for the warning Marshel Demelin." The face bowed. A lord himself, Gante much preferred to be out in the thick of things than stuffed up in a manor, and though this wasn't his jurisdiction, he was more than happy to lend a hand if he was able in his never ending war to keep Aglarond safe.

 

"Perhaps, if I may be so bold sir, perhaps you would be able to see to this matter?" The face inquired, already knowing the answer once he explained the situation.

 

 

Gante was out of his seat and was marching down the halls with a purpose. "Have the golems bring him to me, tell them to take a roundabout way, rather not have anyone see them, last thing we need is any more noise over something stupid. And who was he last saw with again?" He asked the face as it tried it's best to keep up with him

 

"The company of Lady Rhaine Alcinea, they are special guest of..."

"I don't care, have her brought in as well. She wants to travel with rogues and thieves then she can sit in judgment with them."

----------

A simple servant, handing out an assortment of wines, mindlessly indulging in it's task. It might have appeared as a well kept young man, but that would have cost coin that wouldn't have been able to go into other indulgences. And so most of the servants had been conjured up as had much of the food. This brought on a very useful advantage as each servant was connected to the magical mind of the estate itself, information spread out across the entire width of the manor in an instant, leaving no task left to a forgetful individual. And as soon as Gante's demand for Rhaine's presence left his mouth, the servant heard it and moved across the room to approach the Chosen.

 

"Lady Chosen." The servant greeted her with a bow and spoke in a pleasant, if vacant manner. "You're presence has been requested by Marshall Gante Demelin concerning a matter involving a member of your company, if you would please folly me, this matter demands your immediate attention.

---------

 

It was a small study that Gante waited in. A transcription of the events leading up to Sparrows detainment was etched into the wall, slowly scrolling down as the Marshall read. A simple case of failed burglary, this would be easy enough. Though still technically outside his jurisdiction, him and the local Marshall saw eye to eye on most everything, whatever sentence Gante suggested, would be the one they received.

 

 

[Macman253]

Sparrow strode along with the twin Golems quietly, he looked around at the architecture as they walked. The Half-Elf glanced to the back of the Golem in front of him and then to the one behind him as he kept pace, he wanted to make sure they had no reason to push or shove him. He turned his attention back to the first Golem. "So... were you made from pots and pans they found in the rubbish pile?" He said with a sly smirk, he knew the Golems would have no real opinion but he hated awkward silences.

 

He heard the mass of chatter from the patrons of the wedding he had planned to avoid, he hated the over the top lifestyle of the nobility. Sparrow thought of himself as a man of taste and he never once saw a nobleborn with a modicum of taste. They wore the ugliest clothes simply because it was the trend. He saw the waste of gold, how they practically threw it away on everything they could possibly justify themselves to throw it away on. He imagined a human king with a gold crown pouring a jar of gold coins into a sink hole and laughing as he did so. His mind flashed back to his initial arrival in Furthinghome and his walk through Furthingharrow. He saw families living under eaves to stay out of the rain. The roads in Furthinghome were clean by comparison, Furthingharrow stank of filth and rot, the roads were mud and the housing was made of old rotted wood. Multiple families lived in the same shack just to pay the land-lease while the adults starved due to inability to feed themselves and their children. Sparrow had seen much in his life, he counted the many blessings of Tymora he had received as he strode out of Furthingharrow. A truly gods-forsaken place if he had ever seen one.

 

He shook his head as he snapped out of the hard memory and came to just as they turned a corner to what would likely be the nobleborn son who would take a single look at Sparrows pointed ears and toss a rope around his neck for daring to steal a few coins from those who had too much to give to those who had nothing at all.

Edited July 8, 2016 by Macman253

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine glanced to the side to see a rather plain-looking man - or what seemed to be a plain-looking man - speaking to her and asking her to follow him. Her concern raised at the man's words, her brow furrowed, and she excused herself from Maydiira and Conall's side, moving towards the servant with cautious steps.

 

"Very well, lead on," she replied, gesturing ahead. Looking backwards, she added to the paladin, "Keep an eye out for anything unusual, friend."

 

Conall merely nodded in response, returning his attention to the crowd of guests around them. It seemed things were already getting interesting...

Edited July 14, 2016 by AurianaValoria1

[FreemasonGamer]

Finally.

 

Rameses sighed in relief once they were shown into the grand, immaculate foyer of the luxurious keep, the buzz of nigh-countless partygoers' excitement filling the air. While the fire genasi wasn't one for these kinds of social events at the best of times, their group had been the cause of the whole thing; the bride and groom whose union the celebration was for would have still been little more than distant admirers had it not been for the intervention of the Doomguide's troupe, so even the likes of Rameses felt some slight obligation to attend. Not to mention, he had gone through a great deal of trouble earning enough gold to pay for the posh outfit he now drew no small measure of pride from wearing. Who in their right minds would have squandered such an investment?

 

As he remained close to his fellow adventurers, the fire genasi scoped out the crowds and wasn't all that surprised or thrilled by what he saw: aristocracy. Aristocracy everywhere. Most of them were likely mages for how much they endlessly debated and discussed all topics related to the arcane. It sickened him a little bit how so few of his fellow attendees seemed to come from a humbler, more personable background, but he tried his best to ignore the feeling in his gut.

 

Maybe all the lonesome months spent traveling the whole of the continent had rendered him abrasive and unsociable, but he hoped that wasn't the case.

 

Upon spotting the servants mingling through the crowds carrying pristine silver platters laden with all manner of refreshments, Rameses came to the conclusion that the company of nobility wasn't too bad considering the merits involved in having such company. So, he ventured away from the main cluster of his companions to inquire one such servant on the drinks he carried, and the possibilities soon intrigued the genasi. Champagne and white wines were some of the servant's first suggestions before elaborating on the stronger, more potent brews such as an assortment of brandies and spirits; only the finest beverages were available to the attendees, Rameses was promised.

 

"Hmmm..." Rameses contemplated aloud, intently looking over the crystalline bottles and their rich contents before he overheard one of the servants urgently requesting the Doomguide to follow him away from the main body of guests.

 

Something didn't feel right about that. He didn't like the servant's hollow nature, nor did he suspect the servant's reasoning to have good connotations. Who in the Hells was this Marshal, and what did he have to do with one of their companions? Quickly looking around, Rameses noticed their numbers are a bit smaller than normal, particularly in regards to their thri-kreen's absence. Concerned that their younger friend might have gotten himself into some mischief alongside Leif who had left to retrieve him, the genasi graciously took a bottle of sweet-smelling brandy as well as a pair of dainty glasses off his servant's platter before briskly following behind the Winged Chosen of Kelemvor.

 

"You know," Rameses started as he walked up alongside Rhaine before pulling the bottle's cork out with his teeth, rather deftly pouring himself a glass as they ventured down this corridor and that, "My money's that Leif's gone and done some nonsense with We'tak on his heels."

 

Even though the genasi filled his glass more than what might have been considered proper, it still wasn't much considering the disappointingly small volume of liquid the glass held. Down the entirety of the glass's contents in a swift motion, Rameses' szuldar quickly flared at the astonishingly smooth, delectable taste of the brandy that reminded him of cinnamon, apples, and whiskey. He whistled softly in dismay before shaking his head skeptically. "Now that's some good stuff. I may have to ask where they bought it."

 

He then looked over towards the Doomguide whose expression was as unyielding and neutral as it usually was, and the genasi wondered if that was simply her normal look. It took Rameses a minute to also realize that she was a good head's shorter than him, which amused him somewhat. Four inches didn't make a difference about her imposing presence. Then a thought occurred to him, and the genasi cleared his throat slightly and offered, "Care for a drink? I'm sure I'll need a few after hearing about whatever stuffed-shirt Leif's likely upset."

 

~

Night had fallen, and the full moon glistened like a silver coin suspended in an indigo sky, accompanied by thousands of sparkling jewels. With pale moonlight illuminating the hilly landscape, the world was painted with oddly haunting beauty. As pristine as the land was in appearance, no small degree of eeriness came from its overbearing silence. The dwellers of the day had already retired for the evening, and the denizens of night knew better than to disturb the silence this night, for the scents of predators and death roamed upon the shallow breeze.

In a sheltered meadow, there were signs of a swift but deadly struggle. The fresh tracks of a deer scarred the cool mud encircling a still pond near the clearing’s center, and great trenches had been carved into the banks by an explosive ambush which had taken the animal’s life. Only those clues left behind in the earth and the striking smell of blood permeating the warm night air betrayed the hunt that had taken place in that meadow not long ago.

Raidan rose from his kneeling position near the tracks, his lip curling as he smelled it—the scent of his prey. It was not like that of his old foe; reptilian, wild, dangerous, it made his nostrils flare, and he wiped his lank dark hair from his forehead with a hand that trembled with the eagerness of the hunt. Already his blood boiled under the full moon, and he fought to keep his lycanthropy in check. He had to conserve his strength for the right moment…

A diminutive ripple soon traveled across the glassy surface of the water when the head of a monstrous, crocodilian creature breached without the slightest splash. Almost seeming like a log in shape and texture, the creature’s scaly scout drifted along the water’s surface, and her cold green eyes watched the man on the shore. Those slitted orbs betrayed little emotion, holding the same expressionless nature of any other reptile. Motionless, the werecrocodile observed him with an unnerving intensity, contemplating whether the little being was prey.

Raidan's bestial instincts told him he was being watched, and he turned towards the water with a lopsided smile on his weathered and scarred face. His one eye, the other covered by a black patch, found that of the lycan he sought, and he winked at her, gaze glittering under the moon. He chuckled, "Hello, beautiful," and then put his hands to his mouth, making a sound not unlike that of a loon's call. Almost immediately, eight dark shadows lengthened behind him as his fellows answered his signal…

Eyes narrowing as the man spoke with a dangerous silkiness to his words before ushering a lowly call, the reptilian lycan flared her nostrils to make sense of what she saw and heard, and the smell struck her nose like a knife. Their stench was sharp, musky, confident, and such scents didn’t settle well with her at all. She exhaled slowly, casting a spray of dewy mist over the mirror-like surface and allowed a fearsome growl to spill from her jaws. The sound was menacing as it vibrated water and air alike, warning the intruders to move on with haste. While she was no longer hungry after her recent snack, she would not tolerate any loitering predators around her pond.

Raidan's blood was on fire, now, and he began to succumb to the call of it, grinning a toothy grin even as black fur began to spread along his lengthening limbs. "We've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he said, his voice growling as he addressed the beast before him. His fellows, too, followed suit, and in a matter of seconds, the sound of shredding cloth filling the air, nine werewolves stood where men had been before.

Huffing angrily, the werecroc regarded them for a moment longer until she vanished beneath the water, and the pond was soon still and silent once again. The tension in the air seemed to intensify tenfold until the massive creature erupted from the water, jaws wide and teeth gleaming like ivory spikes. A hulking beast of scales that rippled over muscle, she snarled ferociously and snapped at the werewolf closest to the water’s edge—Raidan himself.

Thanks to Raidan's new contacts, he knew all about this beauty and her tricks, and he avoided her strike—although narrowly—by dodging to the side. He and his fellow wolves issued low-throated growls in response, beginning to encircle her in a ring of snarling forms.

Whipping her snout around to keep them all in sight, which was a difficult task in itself, Eirene rose to her full height and ushered a quaking roar as she stepped back towards the water. Upon seeing the werewolves attempting to flank her, she lunged for the nearest to her left, ready and eager to violently defend herself.

The werewolf in question was too slow to react and was clipped by her jaws, its shoulder bloodied. It whined and snarled, biting and clawing at her snout in response while one of its fellows jumped forth, attempting to land on her back. Raidan lunged and sank his teeth into her exposed flank, latching on with locked jaws, whilst yet another werewolf landed into her, attempting to push her over.

The werecroc bellowed furiously when the other wolves attacked, and she reeled around to lock her jaws around Raidan who had painfully dug into her side. However, her jaws only snapped in the air as she felt one of the werewolves pounce onto her back. When the fourth lycan slammed into her in an attempt to knock her over, Eirene threw her weight into a roll in a desperate effort to crush the pest on her shoulders.

As the werecrocodile rolled, the wolf on her back howled as it was pinned underneath her. The others, however, took full advantage of the opportunity, the eight remaining all piling against her with gnashing teeth and scraping claws, the air filled with vicious snarls and growls.

Eirene snarled and hissed when the mass of fur and fangs all but buried her, and the massive creature did the only thing she could do as she panicked with the swelling pain and rage roaring in her ears. Raking her claws wildly over her assailants, the werecroc snapped her jaws at the nearest wolf and hoped to toss it off of her. All the while, she felt countless claws and teeth dig into her scales and draw blood.

The werewolf nearest the crocodile's jaws caught her teeth in its neck, and as it thrashed to release itself, it only worsened the wound, bleeding out in seconds. The remaining seven that were still very much a threat intensified their attack, Raidan the most vicious of all.

Nostrils flaring after effectively tearing into one of the werewolves, she lurched forward and tried to claw any of the others in her talons, jaws wide to rip open and crush anything it could latch onto. However, the crocodile’s breathing was shaky and uneven with terror gripping her pounding heart, and the pain throughout her body was approaching unbearable.

The smell of blood driving the werewolves on, Raidan and his cronies attempted to push her into the water to force her to give up; after all, they were told to keep her alive if possible. Each of them sustained significant wounds from her, though, and that was making it difficult for them to fulfill their end of the bargain…

Quickly exhausted from the constant fighting against unfavorable odds, the crocodile panted as she felt the cool water splash against her bloodied sides. Maybe she could escape from them that way? Surely none of those wolves would go swimming after her. So, Eirene snapped her jaws at them once more and tried to shake off as many as she could before clawing her way into the water. The pond wasn’t as deep as she would have liked, but she wouldn’t be against drowning one or two of them if she had to.

Two more of the werewolves reeled away, whimpering, after her claws left significant wounds in their sides. This left five of them who kept pushing her down, down, down, smacking her head with huge paws and biting at her limbs.

Buffeted by the plentiful bludgeoning strikes and pained by the endless biting, the werecroc’s eyes spun once the loss of blood and stamina began to weaken her. Before she could escape to the safety of the pond’s depths, Eirene fell onto her side in the bloodied muck, weakly kicking her legs in a futile attempt to right herself. She was beginning to slip away from consciousness and was terrified by it.

Encouraged by her failing strength, Raidan raked blood-soaked claws down her exposed side, latching his jaws into his prey's neck. At this maneuver, the others began to back off, knowing he had the situation under control now and their wounds beginning to take their toll on them.

With the pack leader’s jaws locked around her throat, Eirene struggled to breathe and feebly tried to claw Raidan away before finally losing any remains of her sapped strength. The defeated werecroc whined painfully, and the last thing she saw was the moon watching them without pity or concern. Such a sight boiled her blood, but she was too weak to act upon it as she simply awaited death’s embrace.

At her practical surrender, Raidan uttered what sounded like a gurgling laugh, his jaws spreading in a toothy grin as he reared back and hit her head with all his strength to knock her out at last.

Sure enough, the werecrocodile went limp with the final hit, having succumbed to her plentiful wounds. Lying motionless in the muck except for her shallow breaths, Eirene was as close to death as one could achieve without divine intervention.

With that, the surviving wolves took it as their cue to drag her back to their contact...approaching, they none-too-gently seized her limbs and did just that, waiting for their transformation back into their proper forms to begin...

[josh900]

Dressed head to toe in the ceremonial armor that had been forced upon him, Gante sat behind a desk, impatiently waiting on the culprit's arrival. He was thankful that he didn't have to wait too long, as the golems were quick about bringing in Sparrow.

Gante studied the Half-elf for a moment before speaking in his usual authoritative tone. "My name is Gante Demelin, acting Marshall of Furthinghome for the time being. I will be presiding over your judgment and shall sentence you as I see fit. Consider yourself to be in a court of law, anything you say during your time in this room will be placed under the highest of scrutiny, if you are found to be lying about the events which brought you before me, your punishment will grow in severity, am I understood?"

Without waiting for a reply Gante began to speak again. "You have been brought here for judgment due to your crimes of trespassing, and attempted thievery. Now I'm not in the mood to go back out there as quickly as I can so I'm gonna give you a chance to explain yourself. Not because it'll help you in any way, you were caught and admitted to your intent, but I could use a laugh so, start talking."

----------

 

Azuris surveyed the ball room with a look of annoyance in his eyes, too many fancy people with too much alcohol. "Yeah I'm gonna go find a corner and hide in it." He grumbled half to himself as he moved away from the entrance, a small smile growing on him as the thought of what trouble Hexol could have caused these people if he were around.

--------

 

Lucas watched as Rhaine and Rameses walked off after the servant. For a minute he thought of following but suddenly decided not to, the hushed whispers and wearing looks in Maydiira's direction somewhat put him on guard. Clearing his throat he eventually spoke up. "So umm.. sh.. should we find ourselves a place to sit? Or stand ooorr... yeah?"

---------

 

The servant silently led Rhaine and Rameses through the winding corridors of the estate, though did so at a slow pace, the manor's consciousness dictating it to give Gante time to evaluate the burglar without too many distractions.

Edited July 17, 2016 by josh900