Tales of Faerun

[Naktis]

Nawen was happily surprised to see the eagle back. The ranger thought that the eagle would enjoy his freedom and stay away from the people but it seems that he spend too much time in the hands of that nasty ranger and maybe even someone else before him, thus now he did not leave. As Nawen loved all animals no matter their species so she enjoyed the company of an eagle. Sometimes she even talked to him, hoping to encourage the bird to get closer to Rhaine because it was her who saved him.

 

After a long and rainy journey they had finally arrived to Loudwater. She didn't like the looks the people kept giving them but at the same time she was used to this. "At least we'll have a roof over our heads tonight." The ranger commented as she looked around.

 

Aedan got tired of standing around in the fort so he left to wait outside. He wondered what Ravenna found in this fort that is so valuable. He should burn the place to the ground no matter what she said. Valuable to who? Definitely not him.

 

The Fallen walked over to his horse. The steed stared at him for a moment before continuing eating the grass again. "Why I am following the witch around? I'm the one who should lead not her." He spoke to himself quietly as he sat on the grass, his back leaning against the tree.

[Macman253]

The town of Loudwater was mostly a quiet town, the taverns at night were often filled with song and revelry but tonight a wanderer sat at the table and drank to himself. He ate food and listened to the minstrel play his tune and sing. The carousing was suddenly stopped as two Half-Orcs barged in and sat down. An evil look in their eye and the stench of battle fever in the air, they wanted trouble.

 

The young girl who served the food brought Kurashi another glass of wine and a plate of bread and meat, as she walked away the half-orc slapped her rump and smiled widely, he said something to her but Kurashi could not tell, he judged by the slap across his face it was something offensive. The orc stood quickly and grabbed the maidens arm and jerked her about. The patrons quickly moved out of the way in fear of reprisal.

 

"C'mon little lady, ten silvers.." Said The Orc as he held up a pouch. Probably money he took off a wanderer outside of town.

 

Kurashi took a drink of his wine and stood, he approached the Orcs as they fondled the woman and she began to scream. The other patrons did nothing in fear of retribution.

 

"You! Let her go or face me!" Yelled the stranger, his clothes were worn and old. Brought on by long months of travel and were stitched and repaired quite poorly. A large glyph was transcribed on his back and he carried a staff with him giving Gorlak the opinion he was a pilgrim.

 

"Hey bub you watch who yer' talkin' to. Otherwise me' mate 'ere will be forced to break ye' frellin' skull!" Yelled the burly orc as he pointed at the pilgrim with a fat green finger and poked him hard in the chest. The stranger smiled and grabbed him by the finger and twisted it, the knuckle cracked and broke and the orc screamed like a pig stuck on a spear and dropped to his knee.

 

Kurashi had the orc now, he lashed out with a sharp switch kick that took to the Orcs face and shattered his nose, the second orc roared in anger and drew his sword and swiped it at Gorlak's attacker, the man appeared to meld around the blade and he struck the orc with the back of his hand that sent him stumbling. Kurchak groaned in pain, he felt like he had been struck with a hammer across the face. Kurashi curled his hands back and stomped on the ground, his body became a lithe mass of sinew and muscle that flowed like a snake preparing to strike.

 

Kurchak roared again and charged, swinging wildly with his sword, Kurashi moved around the blade like he was cutting at water in a fast stream, he let loose a flurry of punches directly to the bandits chest, the bandit buckled under the assault and flew backwards, crashing into the table and split it in half, sending beer and food flying across the Tavern. Gorlak stood, he was trained in Raging Bear, a strong combat style often used by Orc warriors because it compliments their strength and toughness.

 

He took long sweeping strikes that pushed the drunken boxer back across the room, Kurashi moved under the strikes and dropped to his hands and pushed his feet up in the air and kicked hard, both feet connected under the orcs chin and caused him to drop back on the floor with a loud thud, Kurashi pushed off the ground and flipped onto his feet, he dropped into Drunken Monkey and began walking on his hands and swiping low at the other orcs feet, the strikes tripped up the orc and as he fell forward Kurashi put both his feet on the orcs chest and pushed off. His alcohol fueled strength sent the heavy orc flying to the roof and bouncing off, the orc screamed as he fell towards the floor. Kurashi rolled out of the way as the orc struck the floor with a loud thud and fell silent.

 

With the two bandits subdued he stood and smiled, the waitress kissed him thankfully on the cheek. The girl was young and pretty, she handed him her room key and whispered something in his ear and began helping her father clean up after the fight. The Watchers soon arrived and took the bandits away, for the rest of the night Kurashi enjoyed himself.

Edited October 18, 2012 by Macman253

[Ithildin]

When Echo turned her back, Mahira saw a spectacular purple bruise on the halfling’s neck above the collar. “What in the Nine Hells?!” exclaimed the Calishite, shooting the guardsman a nasty look. “Who did this to her?”

 

“That would be me,” he snapped. “She was shrieking in her sleep last night. Gave us all a turn, guards and prisoners both; had to wake her somehow.”

 

“What did you hit her with? Couldn’t you shout through the bars, or nudge her - gently?!” Mahira’s hands were clenched at her sides.

 

The halfling rose to her feet. “Mahira –“ she started to say, but was interrupted by the guard’s reply.

 

“Sword hilt. Shouting didn’t work, and she might've been faking it, trying to trick someone into opening the door so she could escape.” The guard’s eyes traveled from Mahira’s face to her fists; he moved back a pace, and put a hand on his weapon.

 

“Prison full of armed men, high walls, guarded watchtower, she’s unarmed, and you thought she’d escape … and run where, exactly?” The Calishite thought of the weapons stowed in her room above the Green Tankard Tavern, and the jambiya she’d relinquished before she was allowed to enter the prison. “Never mind, damn you, I’ll have a word with your captain. Where is he tonight?”

 

“Unavailable, and wouldn’t care to hear your side in any case. We’re partial to the Colfens here, not so much to Calimites, or half-sized rabble who attack our citizens … hadn’t you figured that out by now?” the guard sneered. His use of the offensive term “Calimites” rather than “Calishites” was meant to provoke Mahira, but she was considerably more angered by his abuse of her friend than any insult he might’ve leveled at her. She moved toward him; he stepped back against a wall and drew his weapon. “Start something – just give me an excuse,” the guardsman spat. “You and your friend will die trying to ‘escape’, and none in Loudwater will question it.”

 

Echo sucked in her breath, then quietly said, “Mahira, I think you should just leave. Please … it doesn’t hurt much, and will mend soon enough. Come back and see me tomorrow.” Mahira turned her head, locked eyes with the halfling for a moment, and then nodded almost imperceptibly. She backed away from the guard, spun on her heel and headed down the hall. The guard followed with his weapon still drawn, but left off following once she'd reached the outer door. She crossed the courtyard to the watchtower, where another guardsman let her in through the rear entrance. She asked to see the captain; her request was denied. She recovered her jambiya, exited through the watchtower’s front entrance, and hurried through the streets toward the Green Tankard.

 

Mahira realized she’d have to pilfer the rest of the money needed in order to hasten their departure from Loudwater. Taking that risk went against her better judgment, but she couldn’t tolerate the thought of Echo remaining anywhere near that guardsman. She bought bread and cheese from the innkeeper and ate them in her room, waiting until very late in the evening to make her way downstairs.

 

Rain had fallen steadily during the last few days, and the ground outside was a sodden mess. This had complicated the task of chopping and hauling firewood for the Colfens, but as a thief, she'd always welcomed weather such as this. Naturally, most people preferred to remain indoors on rainy nights. No one watched the Calishite’s progress through town to the docks along the riverfront, and even if they had, it would be difficult to identify someone cloaked and hooded against the rain as she was. She moved swiftly and silently between shadows, deftly picking storage locks wherever traveling merchants had left boats untended while they went to immerse themselves in gambling and pints of ale. Even at this hour, the taverns were packed to the rafters, and the streets were mostly deserted. Mahira lifted only those small valuables and coins that seemed least likely to be missed right away, and tucked them inside her coin purse.

 

By the time the thief returned to her room in the Green Tankard, she was exhausted, but felt certain she’d have more than enough money to cover Echo’s fines and replace their stolen equipment. She locked her door, removed her muddy boots, and lay down to rest for a little while before dawn.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine slowed Reona's steed from a trot to a walk, the ebon horse's hooves clopping on the cobbles of Loudwater's streets. Her hood was down, her scarlet hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Her armor had been dulled from dust, dirt, and blood, her cloak was now tattered along the edges and travel worn, and her left wing was still missing feathers in a few spots - though, to her great satisfaction, the quills were starting to grow back. Despite this bedraggled appearance, however, she rode with the dignity and elegance of a noble; regardless of the rejection of her titles, she still conveyed an undeniable sense of authority. The townsfolk gawked as the group passed, even gasping aloud at the sight of Xallistine, yet no one made a move against them, parting like overgrown grass at the travelers' approach. The Doomguide did her best to ignore this behavior, smiling and nodding at a few peasants as she passed, heading in the direction of what appeared to be the town stables. Edited October 22, 2012 by AurianaValoria1

[mythicdawnmaster]

Xallistine could only chuckle quietly to himself as the peasants gasped at the sight of him-ignorance was the first thing that hit him, he was most probably more decent and pure than most of them. Although there presumptions were not without reason, his race had doomed themselves by becoming creatures of the darkness, slave masters and mind dominator's, cruel vicious beasts of unwavering conviction to there diabolical cause of utter domination. So he shrugged off the looks of terror and surprise, and followed close by Rhaine's side, taking note of her posture as she rode, she certainly held an air of nobility- something very useful to have when dealing with the common rabble.

 

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

 

Ravenna stood out on the expanse that fronted the fort, her eyes closed, and her hands outstretched. She moved without warning, without care, in an unnatural dance of sorts... well, it wasn't a dance, but her movements were fluent, as if she were following currents in the air.. "One.... Two... Three" She counted as she stood still once more. "Northwest." She commented aloud "The first piece is in a burial site north west."

 

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

 

Well manicured and groomed hands slammed upon the mahogany desk in utter rage, the veins in the owner of those perfect hands bubbled with blood, and rose to the surface of her skin. "I don't care how long it takes you! You WILL find her! My daughter will be brought back to me... and the filthy bastard child either dead or alive, i care NOT!" Screamed the extremely cracked voice of Adelaide, who's usual appearance of portrait likeness and quality had slipped away, her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was ruffled, her makeup was not applied with the usual conviction and determination as usual. "Now go! I am not paying you to stand around!" She screeched, and the Mercenary group exited the manor.

 

Adelaide had left her husband to face scandal in Arabel, and retreated to an ancestral home in the surrounding countryside. She had picked the most violent, ruthless mercenaries she could muster, and paid them in gold. her mind was in a muddled state, but she was determined to have revenge on the Nymph for stealing her daughters future away, and seemingly more importantly_ Adelaide's money away.

Edited October 23, 2012 by mythicdawnmaster

[Ithildin]

When Mahira got up the following morning, she pulled on her muddy boots, armed herself, and went downstairs for a hurried breakfast in the tavern. On her way to the watchtower outside Loudwater Prison, she stopped in her tracks at the sight of a group of travelers headed for the stables. Two of them in particular caught her eye: a lovely but disheveled woman with elvish features, sable wings and a regal bearing, who led the way for the rest of the party; and a shockingly bizarre creature Mahira recognized only from rumor. It - he? - was incredibly tall and purple-skinned, with a toothy mouth framed by tentacles, the stuff of nightmares. An Ulitharid? Here?! Some of the color drained from the Calishite's face, and she stared slack-jawed for a moment before remembering herself and the task at hand. "Echo, right," she breathed, and shook her head as if to clear it. As she watched the strangers' progress through town, she shouted, "Travelers should look to their mounts, lest they be stolen from the stables - there's at least one horse thief and no justice in this godsforsaken place!"

 

At that very moment, Matthias Colfen happened by on his way to work, scowling at her words. "My son is no horse thief," he spat. "Stop spreading lies ... and don't bother hauling wood for me again. I've already paid you more than you're worth!"

 

Mahira abruptly turned and headed for the prison; her friend's freedom couldn't come soon enough.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine thought she caught a voice shouting something about a horse thief, but when she glanced around, she could not pinpoint the source. Frowning, she pulled her black mount to a halt, remarking to Xallistine, "Perhaps we should tether our steeds in the open, if there is a thief about."

 

At that moment, she felt a weight on her calf. Glancing down, she saw a huge bulk of a man - the blacksmith, judging from his soot-smeared apron - looking up at her. He had gently grasped her leg to get her attention, and his gaze had settled upon her holy amulet. His countenance bore a grim expression as he said, "A Doomguide, eh? Have you come to take care of the banshee, then, like all the others?"

 

Rhaine's brow furrowed, "No...I come seeking a black carriage pulled by matching horses. But if there is a banshee nearby, I am sworn to put her to proper rest."

 

The smith's dark brown eyes fixed upon hers, "Both are far too close for comfort. The hellish carriage you speak of disappeared into the High Forest less than a tenday ago. Rumor has it the thing came to a stop outside the old ruined fortress to the northwest. The banshee takes her residence not far from there."

 

Reona's steed shifted restlessly under the Doomguide, but Rhaine kept the bit's pressure tight, "You said 'like all the others'...how many have attempted to slay this banshee?"

 

He shook his head, "Countless. And we know from her distant wailings that they always fail. The latest was a young paladin of Lathander. He left not two days ago, hasn't been seen since...and old Maraiel still wails away..." he trailed and paused for a few moments before continuing, patting her leg gently, "They go full of youth and zeal, ready to show the witch the light of the heavens, and all they end up doing is seeing it for themselves. If you seek her out, then may your god protect you."

 

Rhaine inclined her head to the man, "Thank you, friend. There is one final thing I must ask. We are short on coin and weary...and if what I heard is true, you have a horse thief about. Is there a place where we may both lodge cheaply and keep an eye on our horses?"

 

The smith stroked his grizzled beard, "You'll be wanting the Green Tankard. S'the only tavern here that allows horses to be tethered out front. Tell the innkeeper that Bilron sent you and make mention that you want to pursue Maraiel...and that awful carriage. Any or all of that should get you a discount..." he trailed again as he suddenly seemed to notice Xallistine. He chuckled uneasily as he added, "Provided...ah...you are a little...er...persuasive..."

 

The Doomguide nodded, "That will do, friend Bilron. Thank you."

[Macman253]

Kurashi stepped outside of the Green Tankard, a pub on main street. He wobbled his way along, happily singing to himself.

 

"Show me the way to go home..." He sang as he strolled along the cobblestone street, a large group of people were coming down the road and he smiled widely. The two orcs from earlier that night came out of the alley, this time with two more friends.

 

"You!" The lead one yelled, "I gots' a bone ta' pick wit' ye'!" Screamed the orc as they pushed Kurashi into the open street and surrounded him.

 

One of the orcs came in with a heavy swing that Kurashi melded around like he was made of putty, his arm snapped across the orcs face and his head snapped back, spraying his friend with blood and teeth. Kurashi appeared to fall down but he bent over like he was folded in half and his feet clipped the second orc across the chin that dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

 

One of the third orcs drew a dagger and stabbed down at the prone man, Kurashi rolled on the ground and laughed as he avoided each strike effortlessly, Kurashi planted a hand and pushed himself up with his knee sticking out and straight into the orcs groin. The orc moaned like a stuck pig and grasped his groin and toppled over. Kurashi smiled a drunken smile and stood at a awkward angle, his body lithe and flexible as a wet noodle.

 

The Orc drew his sword and charged, Kurashi deflected it aside and let loose a torrent of strikes to his ribcage that blurred in their sheer speed, Kurashi dropped down and swept the legs from underneath the Orc and bolted upright as the orc drifted in limbo from his fall and he smashed his elbow down onto the orcs chest and the bandit struck the cobblestone street with a heavy thud.

[Naktis]

Nawen rode in silence, trying to pull her hood as low as possible so no one could notice her dark skin. The ranger heard someone shouting something about a horse thief and then someone talking about a banshee.

 

"I wonder what had happened to this Maraiel..." She said and looked around for a tavern.

[AurianaValoria1]

"'Tis a good question, Nawen," Rhaine replied as she spurred her horse onwards again, "Perhaps the innkeep will know."

 

She continued on the main thoroughfare of the town, finally spotting a sign with a faded green tankard emblazoned upon it. The group arrived just in time to see a lithe and quick man single-handedly defeat four orcish bandits with his bare hands.

 

Rhaine smiled to herself. Monk.

 

She was instantly reminded of a particular dwarven friend who had accompanied her to Neverwinter in the not-so-distant past. Her face turned solemn for a moment before she refocused on the monk and the pile of groaning orcs.