Shadow of the Fallen Posted January 15, 2005 Share Posted January 15, 2005 Thrin simply nodded. Speaking had no use when the sound would hardly reach his own ears. The wind was beginning to drive against his face, and the rain was pelting him like bullets. The continual roar of the river beside him drowned out even the rush of the wind as its muddy churning thundered away. Thunder of a different sort crashed around him in deafening volley. His horse was having a time of its own, trying to brave the storm with him atop it. She was a sturdy animal though, and there was no doubt in Thrin's mind she would make it as he angled his head towards the ground and pulled his hood over to sheild his face from the rain. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MDRud216 Posted January 16, 2005 Author Share Posted January 16, 2005 Quarian didn't mind not being answered, when he asked it the wind had picked up considerably, and the answer was unimportant anyway. The rain had actually let up this far down the valley, and with out it the gusts were barely an object. Clear skies however, were still far away. Glancing up from your horses you spot an odd bundle on the path ahead. Some storm-weary gulls are inspecting it with utmost curiosity. Whatever it is it is about forty meters ahead of you. What could that be? Quarian mused, judging from the birds it had to be carrion, a seal that had swam up the river too far in the storm perhaps. He didn't think it important enough to acknolege, and continued to ride towards it, the faint outline of Castle Greymoor was appearing far out on the river delta. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shadow of the Fallen Posted January 18, 2005 Share Posted January 18, 2005 Thrin seems to be taking a particular interest in the package, and with a puzzled, yet cautious expression, he pulls his horse next to Quarian. His tone is questioning, "Quarian, what do make of that over there?" he points to the 'package' with a finger, "that thing the gulls are picking at." He waits only breifly for a response before spurring his horse ahead of the party to investigate. He reached the site in no time, lifting the scabbard of his longsword as he dropped of his horse. His heavy leather boots made a soft thud into the saturated earth, his body springing gently to absorb the impact. His footsteps were accompanied by a wet smacking noise, as mud clung to the soles of his boots. He trudged forward in a half crouch, clutching his weapon in both hands, until he was close enough to the gulls that they scattered from the discarded heap. Still not waiting on anyone else, he carefully prodded the object with the sheathed tip of his sword. "Hurry and look, I don't know what to make of it," he called back to the others, prodding the object once more. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MDRud216 Posted January 19, 2005 Author Share Posted January 19, 2005 As you aproach the startling shape of the bundle becomes clear, however not so that it is without any reasonable doubt. That changes when he rolls towards you, moved by the prodding of your sword. You instantly recognize the waterlogged corpse as that of the young meesenger sent from Greymoor a few nights ago; Nero, you remember. An arrow is imbedded in his throat, but all blood has washed away."What is it Thrin?" Quarian asks as re rides closer. ooc: duh duh duh :cool2: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shadow of the Fallen Posted January 19, 2005 Share Posted January 19, 2005 "Death." Thrin's only reply to Quarian before kneeling over the body, half scavenged already. The boys eyes were still open, glazed over with the emptyness that now consumed his corpse... Only a boy... Thrin closed the boy's eyes with a solemn hand, and then rose and turned to the others. He geastured with a hand for them to come, but said nothing. The grim expression he wore spoke enough for him. It was when the others got a bit closer that he next spoke. "This messenger boy was likely headed for us, but its hard to tell the way he was lying. It would appear he fell off his horse, I dont see it anywhere around us..." Thrin paused to glance around, then looked back down at the body, "the blood looks drained, so he must have been here a while. But..." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peregrine Posted January 21, 2005 Share Posted January 21, 2005 Aseir tried, but he couldn't help giving Quarian an "I told you so" look as Thrin identified the body. "I don't like this," he stated. "I didn't like it when our mystery messenger first appeared, and I don't like it now. There's a lot more going on here than we're being told. Are you sure we can trust Greymoor's loyalties?" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MDRud216 Posted January 21, 2005 Author Share Posted January 21, 2005 Quarian dismounted from his beast and walked closer to the body of the young man. "Greymoor is a fishing community, the fort is to look after Galor's naval interests." he knelt next to he body, displacing Thrin. To his dismay the arrow was surely of Galoric make, Imperial class, it was no hunter or foreigners bow that killed the man. A painful memory of his own shooting passed through his buzzing mind. Quarian's mind turned to the Empire and his eyes shifted to the sillouhette of Greymoor and the small town around it. The garrison there was most likely a small imperial force, hsrd to tell where their loyalties were, but they would have no knolege of their attempt at rebellion either way. The others at Greymoor were untrained soldiers, sumoned up at a moments notice perhaps to counter the invaders. "Do you have any other ideas?" he asks, standing from the corpse. He felt embarressed for reconsidering what he felt so strongly about, but it wasn't the first time others had proved him wrong. A faint almost indestinguishable sound is carried on the wind, but however faint you recognize it instantly. A bowstring drawn tight. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shadow of the Fallen Posted January 21, 2005 Share Posted January 21, 2005 "Get down, everybody!" Thrin spat out with a voice of urgency, his body already in trasition to a prone state. As his feet left the ground, his body nearly horizontal, he pulled the blade of his longsword free from the scabbard about half a foot. With a slight thud and a roll, he ended up behind a tree next to his horse, lying on his stomach. Dark eyes urgently scanned for the bowman. He drew the sword out completly. And then he heard it. On the eve of danger, he heard a whisper flowing through the winds of his mind. It twisted around his every thought. It was an evil voice... A dead voice. Ish garrahd neen faalt. Noshukahn derinve harra. Jensu khelhon nefarthu. The words penetrated his emotions, overwhelmed his every notion. Time stood still as he struggled against its consuming power. Struggled, and eventually won. Time seemed to suddenly be moving again, he was still drawing his sword, watching for the man hidden out in that wilderness. His heart pounded. It seemed as though only his mind had percieved that instant, and now he questioned if it was even real. Catching himself quickly, he instead turned his thoughts to the matter at hand, still glaring out from his slightly sheltered position. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peregrine Posted January 22, 2005 Share Posted January 22, 2005 "Scatter! Break formation and get out of here!" The order came instinctively the moment he heard the first signs of an ambush. As he brought his horse around and started back along the road towards home, he saw Thrin dive for cover. Fool, he thought, first rule of surviving an ambush: get out of there and make them fight on your terms... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MDRud216 Posted January 22, 2005 Author Share Posted January 22, 2005 The archers position was revealed as he rose from the tall grass that lined the river bank. "Halt you Habbasan rat!" he cried and arrows flew. Three other archers had revealed their presence as well, firing at the only one fleeing. fool, he muttered as he let the arrow fly. he fired before all of their prey had dismounted!. Two riders issue forth from the lifting fog, charging foreward with incredible power. The hooves pounding into the mud with each forceful stride. Two heavily armored Imperial soldiers quikly make their way down the slope towards Thrin's prone form. "Don't move a muscle you honorless coward..." and he points his broadsword into his back. The second soldier creeps towards Quarian, still stooped over the pale corpse of Nero. "Stand up Swine!" he ordered and as Quarian obeyed he knocked him back down with a harsh blow to his head with the blunt of his blade. The archers abondoned their positions and began making their way to the new captives. The horseman would take care of the damn foreigner. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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