Tirasfell - A Kingdom In Peril

[FaeBorne]

Dark times had befallen the Kingdom, the Queen had been missing for some time and most have given up hope of retrieving the Lady Maeryn back to Tirasfell. Lord Fosten had been resolved that he would find his Queen,  as he rules their Kingdom with an iron fist. Festivals have stopped and their people grow fearful and restless with the unending struggles they face. Bordering forces seeing Tirasfell's weakness slip closer breaking treaties and alliances put into play years earlier as word spreads of the Warrior Kings missing Queen.

Whispers and rattling filled the womans head as she crouched in her dark cell. The smell of rotting flesh and mildew overwhelmed her sense of smell as other vermin and people lay scattered dead or dying. It had been months that she had been here, and her spirit and her hopes still remained that her King would find her. She had rested her complete trust in a man and though she wanted to believe that he still looked for her, her mind was dwindling away with thoughts that he had given up. Lambent green eyes narrowed with fury and hate and she jerked once more against the chains that bound her wrist to the cold stone wall.

They had kept her alive, to use eventually as a bargaining piece. Of this she was certain, her captors digusting behaviour thus far had been bearable. A weaker soul would have been broken by now, she was sure. Her eyes closed and she hung her head resting it against the bloodstained wall and swallowing back the sob that she would not let her captors hear. Her soul had taken almost all it could, as she fought to retain what had made her human. How easily it would be to slip back into the monster she had once been. To kill or be killed and to have no mercy...but she had changed, for her kingdom. She had become their monarch, their Queen and left the battleground so their King could take the honor of that glory.

She looked down at her now threadbare tattered robes, wishing it had been armor that they had captured her in. Wishing she had been wearing more than the simple dagger that had easily been dispatched. A snarl crept from her throat as she jerked her chains again, left to her own destructive thoughts...like an animal. Hating that Lord Fosten had yet to come rescue her.

She had been sold, by one of her very own. The whispers of the gaurds that watched her cell had made sure she overheard as much. What they wanted her to think was that it was her King. A man she chose as confidant yet had yet to accept as her equal. Her heart would not allow her to give herself that fully to anyone. Had Gerald been the one to betray her so that he could take Tirasfell? She knew that he did not deal with Orcs and Barbarians. The old barbarian hag that had chained her to the wall had spoke demon names in her curses. A name she had heard before, Dan'eshg, a name her Lore Master the chief advisor she trusted so well had spoken to her shortly before her capture.

Her head jerked up as the realisation of betrayal hit her full on. A cry erupted bringing on snickers from her captive gaurds. She could not believe that she had been fooled..it all had to be fake. Perhaps another, but not her Lore Master...

She knew she was far north, in barbarian and orc territory because the chill was nonending and she had been in captivity for months. Long enough for a seasonal change, yet no change had been felt. If King Fosten travelled far enough he would gain the answers he sought. In the next village there was a girl in the tavern who served the evening meal that knew of an Orc that bragged that he had access to Maeryn any time he pleased. That he had watched the Warrior Queen bleed her wrists on iron chains. An Orc who had made a deal with Tirasfell's chief advisor..

Unbeknownst to both Tirasfell's monarchy, was that they had been duped by the very being that they had both trusted. While Gerald searched for the waning soul of the Queen. The Lore Master would set into motion a hopeful plan that would kill the loyal King, and destroy the Queen indefinitely.


And so the story begins...

[selfexiled]

The breath of the horses were visible now. Winter had come to the land as the search continued, Gerald had already put down three horses since he started his search and this one would soon follow. He nearly beat one of his men to death when he begged for a chance to rest longer than a few hours.
"Your Queen has been kidnapped by those barbaric mongrels to the north and you want to stop and rest!!"
"But my Lord we've not stopped longer than three hours a day since we started on this lead two months ago."
CRACK! The butt of Gerald's spear found the underside of the soldier's chin knocking him off his horse. Gerald was on the move even before he hit the ground. Now covered in mud and frost the soldier looked up to meet Gerald's boot.
"Your loyalty appears as fickle as the weather! Tell me why I shouldn't use your blood to paint the coming snows red!?"
It took several moments for the soldier to even gurgle out a response as Gerlad continued to beat him.
"My Lord!" cried another soldier, causing Gerald to pause. "This man has proven his loyalty countless times have you forgotten we are your bodyguard?... Were we not chosen because of our loyalty?"

After a few deep breaths "Yes you're right." Pulling the injured soldier to his feet, "Well you'll have your rest now you're of no use to me in such a state. There was a town two days back someone go with him make sure he gets there. Then hurry back to us. everyone else, keep moving."

That was a week ago, the trail and weather have gone cold for now. The horses are dying off from extertion and cold. That's fine, it may be slower but its easier to follow a trail on foot, we just have to find a trail. The open road does give time for reflection though.
That night still haunts me, the Lore Master kept me in the study late with "pressing" matters of state. The old bum, he's supposed to handle the day to day garbage. Trials and troop movements are my purpose anymore. The queen went to bed early claiming dizziness and a foul stomach. I questioned the cook but we had eaten from the same pot basically and I was fine. For half a moment I conisdered perhaps an hier was on the way. But then the old crone showed up with his list of needs for the kingdom. Just because I had done it before doesn't mean i want to do it again. Escpecially when it's his job. I felt an urging during the meeting that I should check on the queen but the old bat persisted. Damn him I should've listened to my gut, and now he's forced to do his job because I'm out here in wild lands.

That sickness had to be a drug she would not have been taken otherwise. We've sparred many times with the outcome being far more enjoyable than this to be sure. No simple orcs and thier allies would've stood a chance if not for a handicap. There were many bodies left in the courtyard the next day, a full half the staff of the castle to be exact. None gave an answer I wanted. The scene of the room still burns bright in my eyes, even our bad fights never left the room like this. Everything was broken in some fashion, orc blood was splattered in many places but no bodies, there was one set of drag marks. Perhaps she was able to kill atleast one, it led to a hidden door, I can count on one hand the number of people that know about it and all of them are dead but the Lore Master, myself and the queen. I followed it to its exit where there were signs of the beasts orcs used as horses along with actual hoof prints which meant the barbarians were with them too. My guard travelled with me several hours into the night following the trail. Sveral I sent on to track them while I returned to get answers at the dawning of the day.

The wind was picking up making it harder to see the road ahead, but there was a glimmer in the distance as we moved toward it it grew and we saw that it was a town. "Make for the town! We'll sit out the storm but as soon as it breaks we move on!" The howling wind made it hard to hear but the soldiers all nodded as we pushed through the building snow.

[FaeBorne]

In her dreams she saw herself seated under a rowan tree, appropriately named "Witch wood". The moon glistened upon her copper locks, and enwreathed her in an almost ethereal glow. She looked as if she were merely mist. Spread before her were stones, spattered with crimson. A dagger was held in one hand, forgotten, the other lay bleeding, rested lightly within her lap. Her voice spoke out entranced.

"Till Death..."

It was a whisper of an oath made long before she even understood what it entailed. Memories haunted like ghosts, wisping here and there within the confines of her head. Things left unspoken, things left undone. Her nature was to be stoic, regal, brutal & unfeeling and she played those emotions so completely that they had over taken her.

Pale green eyes narrowed on the symbols she had patterned out before her with small rocks. She had sliced her Kris dagger over her palm and watched as with a soft patter her lifeblood went smattering over the white pebbles. Words spilled from her mouth in an ancient language, her chant denied time, as if the words were spoken commonplace, so fluent was her lilting voice.

She heard herself ask for intervention and protection, for truths to be revealed. What she then received would be far more complex then she had been expecting. The dream darkened in her mind, a vision had coming while she watched her dreamself pray over the sigil of the Mother Goddess, Maeryn then saw herself lose her breath with a gasp watching her eyes roll where only the whites shown. In a flash, she could no longer see her dream self instead she saw the following.

A battle ensued, so many deaths, so many cut down. Fires raged and the screams of hundreds echoed within her ears. From the whitened depths of her eyes tears trickled at what she saw. Innocents mutilated by mercenaries who cared not who they killed, because the price had been correct. Maeryn shook at the details as they showed themselves to her in her minds eye. The battle continued on, a man baring the Crest of Tirasfell, and wearing a crown fought valiantly. Her King? Blasts of fire scorched through her and a jolt shook her, as the screams escaped and she was lying upon her back, eyes staring at the cells dirty ceiling while she tried to control her breathing. The vision having ended with the King taking her very own hand, while a Dragon rose up and destroyed them both. She awoke screaming, the sounds and smells of the dank cell overcoming her so that she wretched alongside herself.  The night terror had been more then she bargained for and it took her moments of deep long breaths as she tried to calm from the it.

She clenched her hands, the sticky warm blood from where she yanked at her irons slickening the feeling. Whatever Hahrutyne had been trying to show her, had been eclipsed by the Mistress's fear of fire, the Dragons wrath throwing her from the  dream perhaps before its actual point had been revealed. She frowned a low wail dragged from her throat...Lord Fosten had still not come, but she knew he would, her dream had shown them together. Even with that knowledge giving her a glimmer of hope,  how did one adjust to seeing their own demise.

A whisper escaped her hoarse and pleading... "Hurry... please.." She closed her green eyes and continued to pray for Fostens arrival. She did not know how much longer she had.



ooc Notes: No worries, take your time, the story can develop at a pace that fits your lifestyle. I'm a very patient person. ;-) Enjoyed your previous post immensely btw. :) -Fae

[selfexiled]

Err-kabunk! Cried the door as the wind whipped it from the hands of the opener. All attention was momentarily to the fiend that would allow such a horror of cold into such a warm cozy place. In stepped six men of varying height all covered in snow and ice and cloaks of black. As hoods and cloaks were pushed back the sigil of the crown could be seen on the chest of five of the men, a roaring dragon cowled about a sword. The sixth man however, wore no crest but he didn't have to. His armor was enough to mark him, even without his crown crested helmet, all knew the only man in the kingdom bold enough to wear elven armor was the king himself. An aura of fear suddenly swept the room, waiting and wondering why were they here. They wondered if if had to do with the queen being kidnapped.

Here in the border towns people feared less the reach of the kingdom and more the raiding parties of orcs and barbarians but even that could not dissuade them from taking thier coin when they stopped in for a drink. As it was two barbarians had been sitting in the corner near the hearth when the party entered. But they were poor at hiding themselves. Gerald turned and saw them, "Take them."

Now generally five vs two is bad odds but these were barbarians so it was more like three vs two. Except that these men were elite royal bodyguards of the most vicious iron fisted human kingdom in the known world; and thier king was standing behind them and it was barbarians and thier allies that kidnapped thier queen bringing shame to thier order. It was not going to go well. "Remember," said Gerald, "We only need one."

Villagers tripped over chairs and each other to get out of the way as the guards charged the two barbarians, whose first reaction was to grab and throw thier table at the guards. Falto! A streak of light and the table erupts in a flash as the guards pour through this distaction setting upon the barbarians before they can respond to the new threat. One does fall instantly with two swords inbedded in his chest. The other is cut across the legs and bashed across the head knocking him unconscious.

"Innkeeper, we need a room for the duration of the storm and the use of your basement." With a rapid nod from the man behind the counter he begins to fumble with keys to available rooms practically dropping them onto the bar. He then produced a key from his apron pocket, Gerald snatched up that key and made for the basement door. The guard captain took the rest leaving one behind, "I'll be staying with his magesty." The other guards handled the bodies accordingly two brought the unconscious one downinto the basement while the other two, after stripping all useful items from the body yanked open the door again allowing the biting cold to renew its assualt and heaved the body out the door to fall where it may. Then shut the door and followed the rest down into the basement to find information.

[selfexiled]

"Well, this won't do at all." said Gerald as he looked about the basement. It was well made unlike the upper floors... Though it did keep all the innkeeper's supplies dry.
"Ceremony can wait for later." CRACK!! Gerald lifted and drove the butt of his spear into the stone floor, which appeared to do nothing at first. Then one could see small clumps of wet, dirt fall from the butt of the spear, but there was no caked dirt upon it. In fact no one has ever seen dirt cling to the spear at all, blood yes, but not dirt. From the clumps of moist earth cracks formed across the stone splintering it like glass and from these cracks small 'hairs' appeared.

Thump-thump-thump, thump, thump-thump, thump, thump; grumbling, more footsteps and the dragging of metal. The guards were bringing down the barbarian. "Damn this fething animal is heavy."
"Don't worry you'll not be carrying him again. He will never see the outside of this room... Though it will be quite the surprise for the innkeeper and his old woman when next they venture down here. *snickers* Though that is a small price to pay for harbouring enemies of your kingdom. Lay him over the cracks."

This done Gerald stepped to a sack of wheat, ripping it open took a handful of grain. He circled the body slowly pouring out the grain and muttering something the guards could not here. Once he completed the circle he turned to the guards, "Make sure the door is locked and barred. Then help yourself to whatever you find in here." The guards momentarily surprised by the second half of the order hesitated and then smiled. Lord Gerald was not usually like this, he would've beat them for taking from stores so freely. As they milled about the room shaking barrels and rifling through sacks and baskets Gerald sat cross-legged with his spear across his lap at the feet of the barbarian and seemingly went to sleep.

As the hours passed the stones about the body darkened with what appeared to be more 'hair' but it stopped at the wheat grains. This hair began to wrap around the body then began moving it to a standing position. As more time passed the 'hairs' thickened and thier true form shown, they were roots. Fully enwrapped now except for his head barbarian would never be able to move once he woke. Some five hours had passed now, "How hard did you hit him?" Rising now Gerald took a barrel as a chair and drew from a bottle of ale the men had. "You mentioned a barrel of water in here somewhere earlier right?" "Yes Lord." "Take it and wake our friend here. Our queen does not wait for us on fluffed pillows eating sweets."

After several good splashings of water the barbarian came to with a swift draw of breath that was cut short by a searing agony, or so the expression on his face said. "Good of you to join us my friend," said Gerald as he stood to face the captive. The barbarian returned the reply in some gutteral foulness he called his home tongue and then spit at Gerald. Instantly each guard was on his feet the nearest already moving to deliver a hook across the jaw. But a motion of his Gerald stopped him,"There is no need of that." Turning to the captive, "As for you, I'd make better use of my water supply." Sitting back down,"Well since pleasantries are not your strong suit we'll get down to business. Some two and a half months ago your kind and the foul orcs in league with some conspirator in my court kidnapped my queen. Where was she taken?" Silence..."Ah of course a barbarian never talks. Well let me tell you what is happening here and why you should be afraid."

Gerald leans back like he is about to share a hunting tale by the fire,"My queen made her kingdom known and feared by being bold and brutal. Public executions and torture were common and the rumors of her using bloodmagic were proven true countless times. Many people know of me for the victories I obtained since coming to the kingdom which of course led me to being chosen as the queen's husband and king. All of this you know. What you do not know is that I was once the unofficial ruler of not one but two kingdoms prior to coming to this one. My wisdom was so honored by my past king he hardly spoke to any other advisor. The other kingdom I literally built from the ground up, it is an elven kingdom. The elves are very close to nature and nature can be more dangerous than all my queen's power. You see it's the subtle quiet things you have to watch for, like these roots." AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH! "That pain is from these roots. While you were unconscious I bent them to my will and laced them all over you and... in you. That's right you have roots right now growing through your body penetrating your muscles squeezing your organs wrapping around your very bones. I can crush you from the inside out in a blink. Your people's stoicism against pain and the elements are legendary but you've never experienced this. Tell me now, where, is, my, queen?"

[Retribution]

The stench of elf and their foul magic was on the air and the blizzard was raging as I made my way into the boarder town.  I was fleeing my land and the storm and the only things I had in the world were Bane strapped to my back and the massive gray Percheron horse I was seated on.  But a wise man knows that knowledge is the most valuable coin the land has to offer. So I sunk deeper into the bear skin that wrapped around me as I pulled the hood which still displayed the animal's nose, eyes, and lips further up over my head.  Brom is a harsh god who helps those who help themselves and no one is to be respected unless they earn it. It is after all the way of the Einherjar.  So I followed the stench of elf magic to a small inn.  One did not have to be a genius to note the type horses out front with only one guard sheltering by the building.  That guard was not overly sharp as he let me ride right up and smack him in the skull with the flat on my ax.  But I left him alive because I was seeking work not enemies of the crown as I swung my leg over the pommel and dismounted from my horse and tied him fast.  I left his tack on him in case I found myself in need of a rapid exit.

I had to duck to go through the door as well as turn sideways because it was too narrow. It never ceased to amaze me that these thin blooded southern folks made portals so small!  Of course there was activity inside and the locals looked at me like I was a monster. I ignored them because I was not here for them. Instead I followed the stench down the steps to a blocked and locked door.  I cocked my head and listened picking up most of the voices from the other side since they were not being overtly quiet.  I was not sure the dumb lout they had could enlighten them but I could. The Jarl had cast me out just for killing his stupid son.  He should have thanked me because the boy was clearly flawed. No matter as I fled I observed the trail of a group of Orcs and others who were clearly taking a woman further north.  A trail it would not be any major obstacle for me to follow.  Cast me out with no provisions or place to go and threaten me with death for your mistake will you?

I pushed the bear skull hood back off of my head and slid Bane from my back as the foul smell of elf magic got more intense from the other side of the door.  Well I hear these thin blood southern types want you to knock. I reared back and planted Bane in the center of the door as I felt the weight in the battle ax slide and put all of my power and all of the weapons weight onto the cutting edge. Of course the door split like dry kindling and fell inward with a loud crash. I crinkled my nose both at the smell of the foul magic as well as the fact this door was too short and narrow for my bulk as well.  But I looked to the obvious leader and grunted "he does not know where the trail is but I do.  I am willing to share that information also for a price since my Jarl and I have quarreled."

The bound men of the north looked at me with recognition and raw hatred before muttering in our tongue "Koreshian Skull Splitter you piece of dung."  I paid them no mind instead I shifted my eyes to the left as the of course already in motion royal guard closed on me.  One was getting really close before I added in a conversational tone "might wait and see what your king has to say first. Me I know that spear is going to hurt when I stick it up your ass if you don't wait."

[selfexiled]

The door splintered in a deafening crack! My men had jump out of the path of the two halves but not without drawing thier weapons in the process. This behemoth blocked the door ducking just to be able to speak through it. "He does not know where the trail is but I do.  I am willing to share that information also for a price since my Jarl and I have quarreled." The captive snarled and cursed at the man, obviously he was known, but not in a good way... this holds promise.

However, he was a barbarian and right now that wasn't a good thing. The men nearest the door moved in, "Might wait and see what your king has to say first. Me I know that spear is going to hurt when I stick it up your ass if you don't wait." said the giant. With a wave I delayed the attack but certainly never intended to standdown. "Alright, I'll give you a chance to speak. But I've spent to long in the royal courts to be lied to easily mark your words and be short. Ah but manners, one warrior to another come down out of the doorstep there and have some ale I promise the innkeeper won't mind. Also I see that you and your brethren here don't see eye to eye but I'll keep him around for a few minutes if you don't mind." Truth of the matter being of course this man was no push over, he would likely kill all my men. I need this fool alive to draw from I don't like it I almost refused to learn it, but even elves have a dark side, and when necessary it has its uses.

[Retribution]

I snorted this man must think I am a fool!  I had no intention of giving up the high ground or the cover of the door when I was so outnumbered. I had a leg up with the steps and the door frame meant they had to come at me one at a time.  That worked just fine for me. "I will stay where I am thank you and I tend to not lie that is a practice of the thin blooded. Oh by the way I do not care what you do with these two pieces of crap, but the guard you left with the horses is unconscious in the snow it would probably be better for his health if we finished this up swiftly."  I could carry on a conversation like a thin blooded court born or even an elf.  I was educated one of the things mother insisted on. I only spoke in grunts and whistles when it served my purposes after all.

I nestled my frame into the door frame more and moved my ax in a non menacing manner so that I could easily bring it to play.  The man doing the talking the king of course was no fool and he would know his boys would be coming at me one at a time if they got any bright ideas. All emotion was now gone from my face and my ice blue eyes showed all of the emotion or carrying of a true predator now.  Brom had no use for the weak so I had no use for the two being devoured by plants. And I could take all night to reach an agreement it did not matter to me.  They were the ones who had a man out dying in a blizzard. "Let me tell you a story, I was fleeing some political misunderstandings when I saw a group of orcs and men taking a female captive north.  I know the lands well and one does not have to be a real smart fellow to know which hall they were headed to.  Of course I can also track so it seems I have information you might wish to have."

I also let my eyes shift from side to side before adding "I also got a price on my head in the lands to the north."  The last tidbit had been a calculated risk.  Right now they needed me more than I needed them. I was sure the balance would shift over time but it offered some verification that I was telling them the truth. I also hoped they would not turn me over for said price on my head but that was another matter all together.

[FaeBorne]

The Orc lifted Maeryn by her hair, yanking her up so that her body was extended, toes barely touching the ground. His rotted smelling breath hot on her face as she felt her hair rip at the roots. The other hand came up and grabbed her around the neck with a bruising strength holding her at bay as his yellowed custard like milky eyes glared at her. Her iron shackles and chains clattered as she swayed, one toe stretching to touch the cold floor as she tried in vain to quell the fear that was raising from her belly to her throat in the form of thick bile.

“You do not eat food given..”

The Orc grunted out in a miserable attempt at her language. Maeryn refused to answer, but allowed the eye contact to continue. Those jade unblinking orbs stared hard into the Orc’s face committing it to memory. He would be the third she would cut down she mentally assessed. When she was free, she would cleave through their flesh with her blade and use every rote and ritual that Hahrutyne had blessed her with. To answer the Orcs question, a smooth grin spread on her petite dirty face. Cracked dry bloody lips parted and she launched a spit wad at her captors face watching with satisfied glee as recognition and then rage flared in those nasty yellow eyes. His hand loosened from her neck and he dropped her, a crumpled heap to the floor.

It was then that she realized her mistake as the first kick to her midsection cracked a rib. A scream erupted from her throat as another and another and another kick wracked her abused body. Iron shackled wrists yanked arms inward to protect herself as she curled as best she could trying to turn her back so that the blows were evenly dispersed away from her injured ribs. Coughing blood, Maeryn taunted with a pain filled whisper. Even brought low, the Queens tongue remained barbed and undefeated. 

“Coward, you kick like a weak Goblin baby..”

She was curled, on knees and one elbow, the other chained arm cradling her ribs as blood and spit dripped in a slow stream from her mouth. A chuckle more demented then anything escaped her, and then a laugh as she let tears fall from those hauntingly pretty green eyes.  The Orc made the fatal mistake of leaning down his head close to her so he could taunt her again. Words never left his mouth as she rolled hard as she could to the side into his shins unbalancing the already bent Orc so that he fell forward over her tangling himself in her chains. Dragging herself up she slid her chain over his neck perched on his back and tugged, a scream ripping through the air mixed with his choking gurgle.
She continued to choke him pulling with what strength she had…… WHAM. The blow to the back of her head sent her sprawling forward unconscious laid out with the very Orc she had just attempted to kill.

The first Orc staggered to his feet after untangling from her chains and stared down at the petite Queen in rage and stupefied awe. Looking at the other Orc he shoved pushing past his saviour knowing he would be the brunt of their jokes later that evening. Yellowed eyes glared back into the redheads cell as he wiped the spittle from the Queen off his face. He would be back later, to finish what he started, the promise of retribution in his hateful gaze.

The other Orc that had rescued his fellow guard stared down at the Queen and bent to make sure she was breathing. A satisfied grunt escaped as he stood and kicked the woman’s food tray spilling its contents on her prone body. He turned and left her knowing the rats would enjoy eating her meal off her bruised body. With a gleeful snorting chuckle he followed the other Orc, unable to contain his mirth and impatient to share with the others that the redheaded bitch had almost killed him. 

[selfexiled]

The beast knew tactics at least keeping the narrow door way and high ground to himself. Though Gerald truelly didn't hnink his men would've survived even on the floor against the monster of a man. "Well I do not recall leaving a guard at the horses but if I did he is getting his reward for being unaware. I am familiar with political disagreements andunderstand needing to run from them sometimes." At the remark of the remaining buffoon wrapped in the roots, "Alright since I have no need for him and you don't seem to want him." With a gesture meant more as a show that having any real power Gerald released his hold on the roots and let the magic that summoned them drive them forth into the man's organs and splinter his bones. Which illicited a most horrifyingly beautiful scream of pain that abruptly ended as the roots crushed the spine and nerves.

Standing Gerlad walked over to the steps, "Politics generally cause a price to be on your head. Thankfully I left my other lands before that happened. If your thoughts turn to me turning you in that seems rather pointless. You can provide me the path to fools that took my queen and for such service I'm willing to grant you land within my borders to do as you wish. What say you to that?" After a moments pause, "Actually let us all lounge by the hearth as we finish our agreement. There is no need now to stand at a knife's edge." Casually grasping his spear Gerald begins to ascend the steps towards the gaint barbarian.

[Retribution]

The fellow was making a show for my benefit the way he dispatched Olf in such an obvious manner.  I was ready for the scream and showed no reaction though that would not have been on my top ten list of ways to die.  Then he made his proposal which was better than I had hoped or expected and some surprise did show on my face at that. Of course I did not plan on bending over in front of this king anytime in the near future.  The thought actually made me smile more than a little bit and when he pulled his spear and suggested we sit by the fire I waved my ax lazily at him in order to decline. Pity also must have been one of the locals I club over the head because I had just assumed a guard would be posted. Better safe than sorry after all though and I really saw no more reason to beat around the bush with this fellow.  We did not like one another after all we were just forced into a situation where we needed one another.

I straightened up and cocked my head as I gauged the wind outside.  "I think we have an agreement and the storm will break by morning.  I will meet you in front and we will set off."  That was that and we were done this night and so I began to back up the steps keeping my eye on those in front of me.  I would bed down in the barn with an ear peeled for danger just because we were working together that did not mean I trusted them.  Besides these courtly types always wanted to complicate the simple and this was a pretty simple arrangement.

[selfexiled]

Ah well it seems this will be a strictly business venture for the moment since the man declined to socialize. But yes the storm seemed to slowly be blowing out even now. In the morning we would be off, moving to and entering our rooms my captain turns and asks, "My Lord permission to speak freely?"
"Of course captain, you know I don't mind you speaking your mind in private."
"Yes of course... This is foolhardy I do not trust this man. It seems to convenient for his arrival here."
"Captain, I share your worries and I say also that if you were not worried I would be offended. It's your job to be suspicious of everyone. Now I also have to believe that our queen's diety saw fit that we come across this man so that we may return her most loyal acolyte to her."
The captain took a moment before responding to that, "My Lord I have known you for several years and know you to be more practical than is expected for someone with your connection to such magics as you have. I find it hard to believe that you think a 'god' directed us to meet this barbarian."
"Hmp, captain your observation do serve you well, I do not strongly believe in any diety of this world but I cannot deny that they do exist in some fashion. Our queen is most exuberant in her faith as can be seen in her runes and abilities on the field. My own past battles are littered with many things that suggest divine intervention or a disproportionate amount of luck." Turning away towards the bags they brought with them Gerald's hand rested on one of them it was blackened leather with a single silver dragon pinned to the flap, "In the end Captain it is what we believe and have faith in that many times changes the course of battle for good or ill. Get some sleep we ride at first light."

[Retribution]

Koreshian Skull Splitter returned outside to his horse and found that indeed the one he had knocked on the head had been removed.  He gathered his mount's reigns and went to the barn through the lessening storm.  Inside he unsaddled and tended his horse and then grabbed several rolls of furs and made his way to the loft.  There he wrapped himself in the furs and burrowed into the hay and let a light sleep take him.  One born to violence though always had an ear open for danger and never slept soundly.  Sometime during the night the weather indeed broke and the massive man was up way before the sun.  He gathered his gear and saddled his horse before mounting and pulling the bear head hood over his ears.

He then gave the the horse's flanks a gentle touch of heels and set it to walking to the front of the main building. There he waited already mounted and ready to go. He pulled a piece of jerky from his pouch and munched it as a cold breakfast and chased it with a sip of ice cold water.  Then he waited his companions of convenience his mounted and massive outline displayed against the horizon as the sun made its appearance.  The day was frigid and clear and both the man and the horse breathed steaming breath into the early morning dawn.

[selfexiled]

In truth Gerald had not slept soundly since the queen was taken, often was his sleep haunted by half remembered dreams of blood and fire. At first he attributed them to his rage of the current events but surely such rage cannot burn that hot for two months straight. But tonight was different, up till now the only memories he had were the smell of smoke, the heat of flame and the taste of blood. This time something else remained... an eye, reptilian almost but something more, it was filled with vengeance and hatred. But there was also a sound, it was what woke him, like the flapping of wings. The sound matched that of very large wings, like when he stood near a great bird of prey but even that seemed dwarfed by this one. He couldn't place it and he sat pondering it by the fire until the captain awoke.

"Oh, my Lord you should've woke me. How long have you been awake?"
"No captain you needed the sleep I've been pushing you and your men hard, you needed this. As to how long I've been awake... long enough to hear the storm die." Standing and grabbing the black leather bag Gerald made for the door and his spear, "Wake your men, and grab a fast breakfast I'll be waiting outside."
"Yes my lord."

Stepping out into the hall and heading down to the common room Gerald continued to ponder his new addition to his dream. There were hot rolls on the tables which he helped himself to on the way out the door, and his waterskin that he refilled from a water barrel. Stepping out the door he saw that the barbarian was there waiting, it made him smile. "Morning, Northman. I would call you by your name if you ever care to share it, unless you would rather I just use whatever comes to mind at the time." Gerald waited only half a moment before walking away to the stables for his horse. Then he paused and turned, "Do not mistake me for some high born fool, I fought my way to this position, even before I came to this land. I know what the life of a common man is and will always approach the common man in the same manner with no flattery or ass kissing."

[Retribution]

The axman turned his head when the king appeared and grunted an answer “Koreshian Skull Splitter.”  He then silently sat his horse and munched jerky while the man got his mount.  He even gave the fellow a thoughtful gaze when he rejoined him and explained he was not a weak king.  A small smile played across the barbarians chiseled features “no King Gerald I do not take you for a lily white skinned ruler, but I also do not trust you.”  His smile grew a bit then and he added “just like you do not trust me. You would be a fool if you did trust me.”  He then looked to the lighting horizon and seemed lost in thought a moment.

When he turned his features back to Gerald the rest of the men were getting ready to move. “You probably already know but the ones who took your Queen are trouble for the north as well. Our tribes, we bicker, we squabble, my situation is not an unusual one but I will tend it. But these new ones they talk of binding us all together to make a concerted push. I am not so sure I like that prospect.” His pale blue eyes fixed on the other man a moment and let that sink in. Then he touched his horse’s flank and set off moving further north with the determined gait of a fine hound that had caught scent.

[FaeBorne]

They had moved her, and she was chained on a precipice, looking over into a black cavern that split the earth in two. Her body was taut stretched like a bow, feet shackled to a beam, her arms over her head and chained as well. Her tattered robes covered her enough for some decency though not by much. Her tangled red hair, was dirty and hung in lank tresses about her bruised face and cracked lips. They had not been kind to the Queen, yet her spirit would not break. The old hag warned the Orc that to harness the Queens powers her faith would need to be broken. Maeryns jade green gaze flickered open and she stared into the deep black depths below her in wild eyed anger. She jerked her body, the beam shaking. The gag in her mouth choked her, but her rage filled screams made those guarding her this time break into snickers. Hahrutyne had shown her that her death would not be by the hands of beings such as Barbarians or Orcs, no, Maeryns fate was sealed in the blaze of dragonfire. Her narrowed eyes closed fully and she waited. Her King would find her she was sure of it, and if he didn't....she would find a way. It would not be the first time the Queen of Tirasfell had rescued herself. 

[selfexiled]

Gerald was quick to follow Koreshian, his men would catch up. He had to smile himself at the declaration of untrust, it was true of course, but that's how business deals generally start anyway.

"Ha it is true that I do not trust you, as such I would not expect you to trust me. You can keep your disagreement to yourself if you wish I have no need to get into it unless it interferes with our arrangement." After a moment's time, "It is known that the tribes of the north often war amongst themselves and because of that no one ever expects a great threat from the north. But I have seen it happen before in a different kingdom, my homeland. It was a brutal war that lasted near three years and many man died in the process. Even now in my homeland there is a full legion charged with patrolling the northern borders." Memories came unbidden of those years seemingly so long ago. Gerald held a silent reflection for a time.

"It is good to know that they are massing up, we will need to break them before they come to full power. Tell me something, since you seem to know of these antagonists where are they now and will our number be enough to take back my queen? I do trust you to be honest if nothing else."

[Retribution]

The big barbarian considered the words for a bit as they rode. At last he replied “my chieftain’s son was a little prick who had delusions of basic competence and skill. He irritated me one too many times and my chieftain did not like my reply that I was simply making sure only those with brains survived.”  Koreshian then lifted his head and looked at Gerald and shrugged his thick shoulders a bit under the furs cape. “I will pick up the trail but they are at the God’s Teeth it is a ridge of sharp rock that I am sure you can imagine what it looks like. There are only a few narrow trails in and if you stash centuries in the rocks on either side it is pretty easy to hold the pass unless one takes out those guards first.”

He then fell silent and pointed at the snow covered ground. There were no tracks after the storm of course but one could see where there was a dip in the unmarred snow surface that showed there had indeed been a trail there before. “And we can break them if we get in and kill the head.  This bunch runs with Orcs and my people do not suffer Orcs.” He crinkled his nose in disgust “we cannot take the Teeth by force but if we are stealthy we can gain your Queen and kick them in the nuts.” He looked at his associate and smiled a bit then set off along the slight indication of a divot in the snow.

[selfexiled]

Hearing the remark about the Jarl son made Gerald snicker a little, "Yes people do get a little touchy when you insult thier offspring even if it is the truth. But I probably would've said the same thing." After mentally recreating the mountain terrain and the pass involved Gerald agreed that a large force would be bad, the time and effort it would take to try and get them up the pass would kill most of them alone. It was also more likely that if there was an easier path it would be very open and they would be forced to face the compliment of the stronghold on the field before even getting close to the gate... hmm.

"Captain! Select a man to return to the Loremaster, tell him to mass the army and send them to the God's Teeth with all haste. Tell him there is a fortress there that holds the queen and to assault it as soon as they arrive."

"Yes my Lord. Martin come here." The captain turns back towards his men and begins relaying the message.

Knowing this would pick at Koreshian's brain Gerald rode up along side the man keeping his voice down so just the two of them could here. "I know you think that a rediculous move but it is not meant to be the true movement. We will continue along your path to take the stronghold by surprise. If god's willing my armies get here fast enough they will be an ample distraction and making our job that much easier. Besides they need to be destroyed anyway."

[Retribution]

Koreshian cleared his throat “actually I said that after I cleaved his skull. It was empty as I had suspected.”  The big barbarian did not say anything as Gerald gave his orders and he only nodded as he explained. He then added “even if they do not get here quickly it will get our foes looking in another direction.”  His eyes glued to the trail the thick man rode a bit in silence and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. At last he looked up “there is also a back way in.”

He sat up more straight in his saddle “a small foot trail surrounded on both sides by sheer cliffs. Normally one would put an archer on each side at the entrance because if you get caught in the middle it is a killing ground.  I would send your men and the rest when they arrive to distract and if you trust me enough we can dispose of the guards and have a clear shot to the heart of the fortress.” He smirked “of course if we screw up we are dog meat.”

[selfexiled]

Again Gerald snickered at Koreshian's remark about the dense princeling, and listened intently as he spoke of a back way. "If you were to ask me to trust you right now the answer would be no, but I'm sure by the time we get there it may improve a little. besides the smaller the group the better, less heads to keep track of."

Gerald had done plenty of tracking in his time but very little in the snow but even here the divet left by the troop of orcs and men could be seen by a child. So since for a time thier conversation seemed to end Gerald calmly rode in silence and mulled over his latest dream from this morning's dark hours.

Blood and fire, an eye, and the flapping of great wings, what does it all point to? On the breeze there came a whisper indecernable, hhaassss-sshaass-ss, shiissss. "Do what?" Looking around, "Did someone say something?"

[Retribution]

The barbarian just rolled his thick shoulders and fell silent as they followed the trail. But then he added "I do not think they make armies large enough to take that place." He then fell silent as well and when Gerald asked if he heard something the big man just shook his head no. "No, but in the big barren lands your mind can play all kinds of tricks on you." He did not seem to think hearing or seeing things that were not really there was anything unusual. And that might have been a bit more disturbing on several levels.

[selfexiled]

"Mmm, it is possible sleep has not been my best ally these past few months, perhaps it's catching up with me." Not expecting a response Gerald settled into his saddle once more and followed the large man and the trail until someone decided they just coudln't go anymore. Again his mind wandered back to his dreams and this new whisper he was hearing and hoping he wasn't going mad.

[Retribution]

The barbarian gave a monosyllabic grunt and was content to ride in silence. After a while the land began to sweep upward and Koreshian pulled up his mount. He then dipped his head to the horizon. "The Gods Teeth" in the distance that was still probably miles rose a jagged set of volcanic rock spars. The sides of the rock formations were vertical and the land took on more and more of an angle as the spars were approached.  The barren rock also became free of snow as it had clearly been swept clean by the wind. A bit of study also revealed that the vegetation ran out as well leaving little other than blasted stone as cover. A more foreboding sight would be hard to imagine.

The trail they had been following of course ran out as they hit the barren stone. But like the big man had said it was pretty obvious where the trail lead. Koreshian gave Gerald a while to get his mind wrapped around what they faced before nudging his mount into motion once more.

[FaeBorne]

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

"Tinnais, the Loremaster"

Element : Entropy (Fire)
Starsign : Jove's Hammer - Year of the Dragon - Month: Bahon
Diety : none - lesser deities pay hommage to him
Persona : Tinnais is a soft-spoken man with a fanatical mind. The pursuit of knowledge (and, more specifically, the power that that knowledge brings) has been the focal point of his existence. He specializes in spirit- and daemonic lores, but is also well-versed in uncounted other subjects, from military strategy to astronomy. He will give his advice when asked, and sometimes offers it without promting if he feels the need is there. While he considers himself mentally superior to, well, everyone, he is perfectly aware of his own shortcomings, and as a result can rarely be caught speaking with arrogance.
Destiny : Eternal damnation.
Physical Traits : Tinnais's body is almost non-existent. He is a frail animated corpse, marked by burns that have scorched every inch of his body. Black, decaying flesh hangs from scorched, fragile bones. In his eyesockets two bright bale-green fires burn. He moves slowly and deliberately. Always covered by a large billowing black cloak, he only lets his heavy hood down before those he trusts.
Magical Powers : Tinnais is a summoner. He specializes in summoning otherworldly creatures and binding them, either within inanimate objects or as ephemeral servants. The Loremaster's enormous library is filled with descriptions of spirit entities and detailed rituals on how to summon, bind and ward creatures of all types and alignments. The limits of Tinnais's summoning capabilities are unknown - rumors say he has succeeded in binding gods to do his bidding. Since his return the Loremaster seems to be weaker than before, having only been able to summon elemental spirits and binding them into stone-formed golems. Yet the recent wardings of the new Castle, in which he used spectral entities, seems to indicate a (slow) increase in magical prowess. Tinnais also has a few magical charms to serve as personal defenses in case of a physical attack. He has not yet been forced to rely on such measures.

The Loremaster stared at the soldier before him, green lambent eyes glowing from the depths of the hood, as his aged voice whisper thin spoke in riddles that the soldier could not understand. The soldier, named Erich had raced back to Tirasfell never once stopping long to rest as his King Fosten had bid him to bring a wave of soldiers to help. He didn't understand why the Loremaster had fortified the gate, they were not under attack. He also didn't understand why the soldiers seemed to move through their paces as if under some sort of spell. What had been going on here? He stuttered to Tinnais....backing up against the stone wall as the LoreMaster's inntelligible ramblings became louder.

"But...But MiLord.....The Queen, she is in peril.. and King Fosten has ordered you to send more soldiers..."

Dark tendrils moved from the shadows behind Tinnais, and shot forward into Erich with the sound of slithering snakes. The soldier jerked, going rigid against the wall as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He slumped after a moment, as Tinnais' chanting subsided. The hooded LoreMaster spoke intelligently now, his whispered voice sinister.

"You will go, Erich of Tirasfell, leading your soldiers back to King Gerald & Lady Maeryn, and you will finish the job that was contracted out to the Orc's. You will wipe both of your rulers from this Land, and then you shall return to me, a hero of Tirasfell... and Captain of the Guard."

The words held promise, and the loyal Erich agreed to it, his eyes holding a vacant look as if he were not in control of his own actions both mental and physical. He left the LoreMaster to go gather a group large enough to defeat what men Fosten still had with him.

Tinnais was furious, his lambent eyes flared after Erich left. Possessing the whole of Maeryn & Geralds army had been taxing. He had needed them to be gone to see it accomplished, but he had paid the Orc's leader Igrynift a small fortune and then some to see Maeryn's head piked, and Fosten destroyed. The fact that it had yet to be accomplished and that Fosten was close to rescuing the Queen did not bode well for his carefully laid plans. Adjustments would need to be made, and as such he sent Erich back to finish the job. It would be at least a five day four night trek for the battallion of soldiers to make it to the North into Orc territory. Tinnaes stared at the Raven that was perched in his study. The large bird squawked and then yelped out.

"Failing Failing Failing Tinnais... the Massster will flay you alive..rawkah kah KAH!"

The LoreMaster tensed looking at the Raven, his familiar and a bane to his existance. The Dark Lord had posted the Raven to watch his damned servant and no matter where the LoreMaster went, the Raven flew behind and perched various places, cocking its head and watching with its beady eyes. It was rare that it would speak, yet when it did, there was a sense of foreboding that awashed Tinnais, as if his damned soul, was pecked at just a little bit more. With a snort of disgust at the sqwuaking of the bird, The LoreMaster turned in a sweep of his robes and moved off through a secret passage in the study. He would need his rest...the battle that would ensue if Erich did not finish the job Tinnais set in motion months prior would be bloody, and Tirasfell would be in ruins if Maeryn came back to take what was rightfully hers. He knew that Hahrutyne would not let the Queen fail against his own Daemonic Diety.

[knifeparty]

The cavernous, god-forsaken mountain that held Maeryn was unforgiving. It had been cold for thousands of lifetimes, sustaining itself from the heat it sucked from everything it swallowed. The lightless pit she stared into stretched upwards, its maddening blackness licking her soul with the promise that it would be there whether she closed her eyes or not. The mountain wanted her, it wanted her deep in its freezing heart.

Somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, in that twilight of consciousness where reality and dreams bleed together she becomes aware of his presence. He’s a feeling that crawls up her backbone and pools in the back of her mind, where her madness resides. 

“Awaken...” She can feel his voice thrum in her ear but he’s nowhere close. Her chains are unexplainably gone and she’s no longer on the beam. The Orc guards are gone, and there is no sign they were ever there.

He is standing some distance away. He is a lean rake of alabaster, masterfully carved and balanced. Shadows draped his flawless flesh like the royal robes of a black king, wreathing him in eerie contrast that haunts his every exposed hollow. Only goatskin pants hang from his hips, so too does a piece of bone that looks to be some kind of crude ceremonial knife.

“Have you prayed for Hahrutyne to save you?”

His eyes glittered death in the darkness.

[FaeBorne]

Her eyes flew open, dilated and blurry her sight was obscured by her own fingers as her hands covered her face as if she'd been weeping. A breath escaped in a cold mist as she looked down, instead of the chasm, she was kneeling on the ground behind the beam. Licking her lips she reached up her unbound hands and touched them tenderly to her mouth feeling the cracked dry ridges of the once smooth plump skin. The eerie sound of a voice made her blink and she lowered her hands from a jade colored gaze and stared at the porcelain figure ahead of her.

“Have you prayed for Hahrutyne to save you?”

A gasp escaped her as she struggled for breath when the voice made sense in her mind finally, the icy puffs coming from her as a seemingly soundless scream opened her mouth without sounding. Turning her head she stared at the beam that hung over the chasm seeing a bound woman, with lank red tresses falling across her dirty battered form. Head tilting the jade eyes widened, fear circling the pupils. Was she outside her body? She was still hanging over the pit that was to be her doom. Another gasp left her and she fell at the death-seers feet, grasping for the hem of his goatskin pants, he seemed just out of her reach. Dust from the ground paralyzed  her tongue and any words she had wished to speak were deadened by the feeling of the earth filling her mouth. Tears leaked from the corners of eyes that had not cried in years. She stared up at him, her voice echoing in her own ears, yet sounding so far away as if the words had never actually passed her lips.

"Have you come then Death-Seer to see me to Her?"

This was it, what the Orcs and the Barbarian Witch had wanted. To break her so completely, that they could strip Maeryn of her belief, and in doing so  her power would be theirs. She could not breath, deep gusting gasps escaped her as she stared up at the figure. There was belief and insanity riding side by side, the Queen was allowing her suffering to overtake her. But really she had held out so long already, how could she not be tainted with madness while awaiting a King who had yet to come.

[selfexiled]

The wind worsened as they left the confines of the trees and crossed the bare rock towards the feet of the mountain. One could scarsely hear thier own thoughts at times over the it. In its bitterness the land was beautiful, though bare small patches of green could be seen scattered about the rocks, even small shrubs tried to grow many with a layer of frost over them, the wind freezing any moisture in the air to their branches. An on looker may have thought each man had a fire burning inside him for each breath was a plume of steam as the chill took each breath from the air. But the base they did reach finally and finding an outcropping large enough to guard them from the elements they left behind thier horses.

As the men gathered to follow Gerald turned to them and said, "Find a place to lie in wait hidden from our enemy for Erich and the re-enforcements. Myself and Koreshian will accend a hidden pass to infiltrate the stronghold and open it up to you from the inside. May whatever God you believe in be with you." Before they could object Gerald turned and hurried after the barbarian whowas already making his way up the mountainside.

[Retribution]

After leaving his mount behind Koreshian had strung his bow and moved from sparse cover patch to sparse cover patch toward the hidden trail.  He then stopped behind a small rock outcropping as he watched the cliffs on either side of the entrance to the trail he had selected. He was actually using the king as bait as he could hear the man approaching from behind him. There, movement where he expected a human on one side and an Orc on the other. The big barbarian knocked an arrow as he watched the two centuries fixed on the approaching form of Gerald and not paying attention to the danger behind the little shelf of rock.

The human was armed with a long bow that would load fast. Orc with a crossbow more power and longer range but loaded slow. So it seemed the human died first, Koreshian leaned on the bow string that came to rest on the side of his nose and pressed on the curve of his chin.  The knuckle of his thumb on his draw arm found the little hollow behind his ear and with a whistle of string silenced by goose down the arrow was off. The human never knew what hit him the shaft went in one arm pit and out the other. The bow fell from the man’s numb fingers and clattered down the rocks. But Koreshian was already ducking as he heard the thump of the Orc’s bolt wiz past. Poor bastard was empty now.

A smile came to the massive man’s face as he calmly stood and watched the ORc frantically crank on the cable to re-load. While the clicks and whines of the crossbow being cocked could be heard across the blasted rock scape Koreshian mildly fitted another shaft on the string of his bow and came to full draw. He then whistled lightly to get the Orc to look up and when the creature did the shaft took him right between the eyes with a sound like the splattering of an overripe melon. Its head exploded in a crimson shower as its body toppled over the cliff edge.

As he swapped bow for ax across his back the massive mound of animated and agitated muscle looked to Gerald “guards are gone.” Then with a grin he set off for the trail they sought. Upon reaching it he kicked the two corpses out of the way and surveyed what lay ahead of them. It was a winding path with sheer cliffs on either side that gradually traveled up the mountain.  The wind whistled through the confines in a manner which gave it even more teeth than in the open as the trail slowly gained elevation. There was no room for two men to walk abreast on the trail. Koreshian looked at Gerald “yeah this is going to be bad if we get discovered while on this trail.”

[selfexiled]

The clatter of the human's bow got Gerald's attention quick enough to see the crossbow bolt whiz across the path towards Koreshian's outcropping. It occured to Gerald that he was the bait to keep the attentions of the guards, he'd not been used for that in many years it was both irritating and a relief at the same time. Because here was a man who took him at face value and not at his title it was an honorable respect. Most would scoff at such a notion when you were just used a bait, but Gerald would've done the same to Koreshian so atleast they were on the same page.

Seeing the orc's head erupt from the force of the arrow made him grin, it was good to spill blood on the battlefield again even if it's indirectly for now. Following Koreshian's gaze up the pass he couldn't help but agree that there was little to no cover to be found on the pass and to be caught unaware would be thier death. "Since you know the way you can go first, but don't kill everything if you can help it I want something to do too." After a moments thought Gerald chuckled, "To anyone who sees we're likely an odd paring," gesturing to Koreshian's bear hide, "A great bear being followed by a tree." gesturing to himself. "Of course I'm likely to be targetted first since there are no trees up here."

[Retribution]

Koreshian grunted and set off the narrow pass clearly put the axman at a distinct disadvantage.  Axes being powerful weapons but slow and requiring room to wield properly.  As he picked his way over the rocks and occasionally put a hand on the rock face for balance he responded “to some yes, but those with much for brains would appreciate the symmetry.” He rolled his thick shoulders “I am a butcher not a surgeon so it helps to have someone nimble and quick along.”
   
After a while he reached a point the path curved and stopped to peek around the corner before ducking back.  He then motioned Gerald up to take a look and he would see the rock path lead to some roughhewn steps cut in the granite face. These oddly spaced footholds eventually lead to a pair of double wooden iron shod doors.  Koreshian whispered to the king “I would imagine they got more guards in some murder holes up there someplace I cannot see them though. So your time to have some fun even if it means using me for bait, but I am open to suggestions on how to not just get picked off crossing that open ground.”

[selfexiled]

"Well," said Gerald a little distantly as he scanned the surface of the rock all about the mountain seeking another way. Up above them there was a small outcropping that he might be able to sit on, it was barely two body lengths away but the face of the rock was near smooth, "I don't ask out of hand I know how close a warrior is to his weapons but allow me your bow and arrows." Waiting for Koreshian to reply or turn over the weapons Gerald begins a murmuring whisper while holding his hands to his mouth.

There is still life in the tree that has become Gerald's armor and now he calls on it to give his fingertips roots to crasp the smallest crevases in the rock face so he can accend to the outcropping and take aim at the guards. It takes a few second for the roots to take a grip so Gerald begins climbing even before he has the weapons. "Once I get up there get the guards to appear in whatever fashion you are comfortable with, I'll take them out."

[Retribution]

Koreshian handed over his bow and quiver as Gerald did some of that foul elfin magic. The massive barbarian moves as far to the other side of the path as space would allow because he really hated magic especially that of the elves. But he was not so foolish as to discount a tool that his companion might have even as he loathed it himself. Give him the riddle of steel any day. He then looked toward the hold and grunted “do not take too long for my life will not burn long.”

He then placed Bane in front of him and used the bit of the massive battle ax to help shield his body. Crouching and making himself as small as possible behind the blade and keeping as tucked into the rock walls as much as he could. He then began a slow advance down the path feeling virtually naked but there was nothing else to be done. He kept his eyes peeled and when the first bolt streaked toward him with a loud twang that indicated a crossbow he reacted by instinct and moved Bane to bat it aside.  The next shaft was already nearly on him by the time he recovered and he flattened against the wall and got his chest split open with a burning slice under both nipples for his trouble. But at least it had not gotten deep and was more an aggravation than anything though that would soon change if Gerald was not fast.

[selfexiled]

Though not quite all the way up Gerald could atleast see over the lip as he heard the hiss of a bolt flying through the air and the clang of it hitting metal taking half a moment to look down he saw that Koreshian was using his broad axe head as a shield but the next arrow was to close for comfort. With urgency he jumped from his position to the ledge and quickly drew back on the bow, it was harder than he thought it would be but then given the size of the man it belongs to he should've expected such. He saw the crossbowman easily as reloading such a thing was not a subtle task. *Ffpp* went the string as the arrow launched through the air catching the orc in the neck under the ear, it wasn't fatal though but he wouldlikely drown in the blood from the wound draining into his windpipe. It was a hasty shot in truth, now with a better understanding of his weapon he was able to draw smoother and hold longer as he found the other archer. His eyes were moving back and forth between Koreshian and searching for the person who just killed his fellow guardsman. Fate does not reward the hesitant. *Ffpp* this arrow was a guarenteed kill as it hit solid in the center of the chest.

Gerald strung again and started scanning for more targets, while he expected Koreshian to be moving forward.

[knifeparty]

He remains beyond her reach, stalking back into the embrace of the shadows like a coyote. A desolate silence follows, leaving her to flounder in her own despair, reintroducing her to the isolation she’s come to know so well while, hung out there over the abyss. When his voice returns she doesn’t hear it, but rather senses it dripping into her consciousness.


"Her abandonment will see you to her arms, eventually... "


There is a flicker of pale flesh as if he has to cut his way free, before the barbarian death-witch comes wading out of the oily shadows. He crouches with an unnatural fluidity, getting to low look her in the eye.


“But she won’t even let you die quickly.... I hope she’s worth the suffering. I won’t let you die either. I can end your suffering.  Are you cold, Maeryn? I will bring fire to this place. Do you wish to see the blood of your guards pouring like rivers into the abyss? Do the bindings hurt your wrists more and more every day?”


He’d drawn his blade, and now it rasps across the earth.


“Ask me what you would ask of Her. And I will answer.”

[Retribution]

Koreshian looked up as Gerald provided cover but two more human archers appeared in the rocks and now they were well aware of the other danger. Blood oozed down the big barbarian's chest from the slice from the arrow head, but he did not have time to worry about it. He pulled his hand ax in case he got close enough for a throw but he had a long way to go for that. Bane still held in front of him he charged down the path deflecting arrows as they rained down on him but it was getting close as one quite literally pierced his ear. But at least if their were raining arrows on him they with luck were giving Gerald shots.

As he was almost to the steps he came across the struggling orc who had a arrow in a very uncomfortable place.  The big man did not even break stride as a backhand slice with his hand ax sent the creature screaming to meet whatever god it worshiped. And then he had to dodge another arrow that got way too close, but at least he was on the steps now and was climbing higher.

[FaeBorne]

Her eyes closed his voice seemingly coming from inside her taunting the inner most reaches of her insanity riddled conscious. She tried to lift her hands, but found they would not lift. Her face held an incredulous look, as if she was seeing into the beyond. There was fear there, the Queen in her brought low, the rage beginning to simmer. Her head jerked up, and eyes fully opened, blazing green and full of anger as she stared at the cause of her anguish, the being taunting her from the very reaches of her mind.

“But she won’t even let you die quickly.... I hope she’s worth the suffering. I won’t let you die either. I can end your suffering.  Are you cold, Maeryn? I will bring fire to this place. Do you wish to see the blood of your guards pouring like rivers into the abyss? Do the bindings hurt your wrists more and more every day?”

The words rippled through her like a spell. She yanked her hands up finally, showing them to the man. Her words whispered out into the abyss she was bound over, seemingly to no one, as they filled the air like a fervent prayer.

"They hurt, they hurt, they hurt...Kill them all, fire, blood... all of them for betraying me..they hurt THEY HURT."

Repeating it, as if she would not feel the burn of the ropes if she continued to chant, rant and scream. Her eyes went wide and she stared down into the chasm her bruised face showing confusion as she finally shut her eyes again. She could see herself then. at the edge of the cliff, her tormentor inches from her face. But it was all a dream wasn't it? Wasn't it??!! His words so deathly sweet to her ears, green eyes lambent and flickering with memories of a life lived for a Goddess that forsake her. 

“Ask me what you would ask of Her. And I will answer.”

A giggle ripped from dry cracked bloodied lips. A shiver wracked her body, her eyes rolled to the whites and she jerked on the pole the Orcs had her bound to. Her voice was deadly sweet speaking to the cavern below. In her minds eye, she leaned forward towards the man her lips a whisper in his ear.

"I ask her for vengeance, in her name and glory.. Bloody death to those who doubt her. I ask Hahrutyne. Give me vengeance."

[selfexiled]

As the guards missles whisteled through the air Gerald returned fire as well as he could while dodging the incoming fire, though it was spuratic since they were divided between himself and Koreshian which made his job a little easier. The remaining guards seemed to be shooting from portletts in the gate wall making them hard to hit, he would have to rely on his armor for a few moments while he gauged his shot... *ffpp* The shot was true passing through the portlett and into the guard but he was exposed to for to long no sooner did he release than he was sent spinning nearly falling off the ledge.

They called it iron wood for a reason though, the arrow was imbedded into the plate but not enough to draw blood, though he would likely have a bruise there afterwards. Thankfully it was not a crossbow bolt as it likely would've not been withheld by the plate and he would be dead or dying right now. He considered pulling the arrow but thought otherwise, often enough these men were superstitous so by leaving it there he would seem more unearthly as such a strike is usually fatal.

[knifeparty]

The whisper from her cracked lips was like an opiate. He opened his jaws and let the ecstasy of her vengeful heart escape him in a low hiss. Something uncoiled in the depths of his soul, awakened by the fate of Maeryn renouncing her Goddess, it was made of teeth and hatred and after a lifetime it opened an eye...

"She doesn't hear you. But I answer..."

He raises his hand slowly to her face, from elbow to finger tips its slick with thick, red blood, as if freshly dipped in an Orc corpse. She can smell the copper in it and feel the heat of it, the first warm thing she's felt here in weeks as he spreads the ichor across cheek and mouth.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."

He slowly drives his bone blade into the earth in front of her, letting go of it.

"Go back to sleep."

The vision is over. When next she opens her eyes she's lying at the base of the beam, completely untethered. The warmth of blood on her face remains - she's lying in a pool of Orc blood that runs from rich veins of her dead jailor.

A glistening hand print of red stains one of the walls, a streaked trail dragged from the print towards a pathway leading somewhere into, or out of the mountain.

[FaeBorne]

Jade colored eyes flickered and then opened wide, a large gasp of breath intaking and then hissed out between her clenched teeth. The smell of warm fresh let blood was overwhelming and she shuddered at the sickly slick feel of it beneath her body. What had happened? How had she been freed? The dreamscene replayed in her head, her eyes closed and his words echoed in her mind as she took in the scene before her. Tears spurted from the corners of swollen eyes and she resolved  through the pain, that she would do as she had been instructed.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."

Raw wrists burned as she rolled to her knees and slipped messily through her jailors essence she looked for a weapon. His thankfully were left on him, and so with a cry of tribulation she pried the large dagger from his fingers and struggled to her feet. Wiping the back of her hand over her blood stained face she finally saw the streaklike prints upon the wall. Bloodied hands to lead her way. Groaning in agony, her weak ravaged body fought for supremacy in the battle to move and finally won. She clutched the weapon and stumbled her way along the wall, her hand tracing the print as if it was holding her own like a lover leading the way.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."

Vengeance fueled her thoughts, and the face of her tormentor flashed once more before her eyes as she followed the trail left for her back into the mountainous caverns that held the Orc's fortress. She would kill them all, even at the cost of her own soul. On that she swore a life's oath as she dragged herself lamely along the streaking trail of red hands. She would find herself staring into the eyes of yet another slain Orc, and then another. Her way having been paved for her in treachery and blood. Licking cracked dry lips she clutched the dagger and limped onward. Eyes closing as dizziness swept her again. She would not be recaptured, she would fight until they killed her this time. Another dead bloodied Orc corpse and she found herself on a treacherous set of stairs carved into the mountain the hands leading her downward to safety.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."


Then they had stopped, she looked further on the walls that surrounded the narrow steps and cried out. How could he have left her now, like all the others? She spat angrily, her mental state like that of a fugue or worse. She trembled in her rage, and drew herself upright taking the steps with a regal gate. She would not let any see her brought so low, no matter how worse for wear the Queen's visage was. She was Maeryn Vayos Dragonbane, Queen of Tirasfell, feared and respected, she would not be brought low. The whisper in her head, reminded her soundly... she had been brought low, forsaken and unhelped by the Goddess that she pledged her fealty. The words swirling on a hiss through her brain as she continued down the stairs towards either her doom, or her freedom.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."


Her voice hissed out an answer finally each word seemed to echo about the caverns sealing her fate and emblazoning themselves to her Destiny.

"I will kill them all..."

[Retribution]

Gerald may not have gotten all of the guards but he got all but one. And at this particular moment it really sucked to be that one. Because Koreshian was terribly fast and agile for a man of his raw size. It was after all a large part of what made him so dangerous.  Lumbering mounds of muscle were a dime a dozen but this one had brains, speed, and agility.  And the poor sap with bow still in hand now found himself face to face with one very enraged mound of flesh bearing a massive ax. The Wolf barbarian had made it up the steps with seeming impossible speed and he only allowed the last guard time to try and reach for his short sword before cleaving his skull.

He then turned and looked int Gerald's direction and motioned with his bloody ax for the man to join him. He then approached the massive doors and pondered a moment before going back to the guard he had just slain. A cursory search revealed a set of keys because well those guarding the doors needed to be able to get in the doors after all. Koreshian spun the keys on their holder in a mild circle around his finger as he waited for his companion.

[selfexiled]

Seeing that all was secure now Gerald jumped/slid down from his perch landing a little more wobbling than he would've liked on the narrow path below and ran up to the doorway. Offering back to Koreshian his bow and arrows which were fast dwindling now, "Well stage one complete. Shall we begin our next tour on this fine holiday." Gesturing towards the door with a smirk and a slight bow. "I might have some powder you can put on those wounds to stop the bleeding."

Gerald only hoped that they were not to late and that the passages were wide enough for them both, it would be bad to funnelled into a location where only one of them could fight at a time, given that more often than not these mountain strongholds were underground kingdoms with a population befitting such a name.

[Retribution]

He accepted back his bow and quiver and slung them over his back, but kept his ax in hand before handing the key ring over to Gerald. “I have no idea what waits for us on the other side of those doors” he then looked up toward them. “But there is only one real way to find out” so he hiked the ax over his shoulder and approached the doors waiting for Gerald to find the right key. “You’re not my king but in situations like this there can only be one leader. When we go through the doors you are it because it is your Queen after all.”

Koreshian tucked his hand ax back into his belt then and used a rag he produced to wipe the blood from his chest. He refused the powder of course but the bleeding seemed to be stopping. That made sense really when one had seen his disdain of magic.

[selfexiled]

Gerald made his way through the keys trying each one in turn before finally hearing the click of the lock. "Ha there we are, you know I'm surprised you waited for the keys. More than likely you could've bashed the door in with your weighted axe." Though without waiting for a response from Koreshian, he eased the doors open. Which moved rather well considering the builders.

The open doors revealed a dark maw of intermitten torches scarcely providing enough light to see to the next torch. He considered it to be this way only because they were still standing in the sunlight and thier eyes were not adjusted yet. But to keep from making a silhotte in the doorway for anyone to shoot at he stepped in quickly. But remaining near the door to let his eyes grow accustomed to the darker world they were about to enter. While standing there he caught a strong scent of blood but attributed it to the bodies he had just left behind. Satisfied with the how his eyes had adjusted he gean moving inwards. He could hear Koreshian follow behind him, the man was quiet for his size but these passages were to quiet for his taste nearly every hair was standing on end cautious of every shadow.

[Retribution]

Koreshian closed the doors behind him while they both waited for their eyes to adjust. No, reason to advertise their presence though on some level he suspected it was already known. The entire place stunk of magic and that put the massive barbarian on edge. Ax in hand he trailed after the king and was more than a little shocked to see how quiet and deserted the halls were. He murmured to Gerald "I do not like this and the place is putrid with magic" he continued to follow figuring the king had some elfin way of finding his Queen now that she was close.

But then a small sound to his right and behind caught his attention. And in the way of experienced warriors he saw without looking, the Orc sneaking out of the secrete side passage in an attempt to back stab him. Foolish Orc the ax flashed in a sudden backhand motion and the Orc was separated from his head so fast that the body stood fountaining blood from the severed neck a long moment before it joined the head on the floor. Koreshian looked back at the still twitching corpse "they seem to be the sort that like to sneak up behind a fellow." He did not comment further as the plainsman really did not think of such things as dishonorable. Simply another tool in the arsenal of a warrior.

[selfexiled]

Nodding at Koreshian's comment on the level magic in the place Gerald readied for any kind of magic attack along with that of any standard blade and bow strike which he would've preferred. Honestly he shared the barbarian's distaste for magic but saw its uses when in a pinch.
The sudden movement and juicy cutting sound of the axe made him turn in time to see the orc head roll across the ground and the body still standing in shock before collapsing. "They seem to be the sort that like to sneak up behind a fellow." Koreshian mentioned in a somewhat dettached fashion. Eyeing the body for moment as it twitched in its death throws, "So it would appear. Ambushes have they're uses but are generally a tactic of the weak and dishonorable. I suppose we should check the shadows more closely from now on."
It was true that magic seemed to drip from the very walls of this place but it was foul and putrid, the queen's magic though dark at times was not foul in its essense. Gerald stopped a moment and tapping into the power of the spear tried to seperate the magics from each other to see if he could locate his queen's presense or at least get a direction to start.

[Retribution]

Koreshian followed Gerald a while and felt him use some of his elf craft for lack of better term. Also after a while in such close proximity to the pervasive magic he could pick out different threads. It was a gift of his magic disdaining people "lighter thread this way." He pointed to a rough hew passage that lead ever downward "and they are taking on the tactics of those who are weak in numbers. I do not think there are as many of them as they would like us to believe. So they use terrain and trickery as opposed to raw numbers."  He leaned in and sniffed down the passage he had indicated while taking the time to pull on oil coated rag and calmly wipe the blood from the bit of Bane.

He did not bother to tell Gerald to check out what he had sensed because any idiot would know to do that. In fact the massive man had probably spoken more since they had entered the hold than he had during the entire trip. While he waited though Gerald could see the wheels turning in the barbarian's mind and at last he added "so who is the traitor in your court? They are taking the sneaky approach to things so it would tend to reason your QUeen was taken by treason."

[selfexiled]

Even as Gerald was locating the thread that would lead to his queen Koreshian seemed to sense it as well. Unique peoples these barbarians, for having such a disdain for magic they seem to be able to root it out like a pig with truffles. But never the mind foreward and down it seemed was their path for the time being.

"So who is the traitor in your court? They are taking the sneaky approach to things so it would tend to reason your queen was taken by treason." Koreshian proved to be astute of his surroundings and deductions.

"I wish I knew." After a moments pause, "They came in through a secret passage, those who knew of it could be counted on one hand. All are dead save myself and the queen and... our chief advisor." A few moments more of silence, "It couldn't be, he has been faithful to the queen even before I knew the name of her kingdom." To any who cared to notice Gerald's mood darkened as his jaw locked in determination, "He'll provide such answers when I return be it at the end of my spear or on it."

[Retribution]

Koreshian cleared his throat as they headed down the winding tunnel. He let Gerald take the point not out of cowardice but out of sense.  The ax is a fearful weapon, but it is slow even in the most nimble of hands. So the wise let the quicker warrior take the lead to keep enemies from getting inside the ax man’s reach.  In exchange the one in front has the pleasure of having a pure wall of destruction with their back. “I suspect you do not doubt yourself so that leaves your Queen or your advisor and while it is not unheard of I doubt your Queen double crossed herself.”

The smell of sulfur soon rose to meet them from the bowels of the earth and it was swiftly becoming evident that they were indeed heading in the correct direction as they traveled down. For his part the barbarian remained silent after his rather blunt observations.  Though the fact he was capable of making such observations probably made it more clear how he and his Jarl quarreled. Stupid son’s that end up dead or not if there was a barbarian side of the equation for those who took the Queen they would most likely not like someone of Koreshian’s standing around. But thoughts were put aside as the big man stopped suddenly and held up his hand.  Then one could hear it the drifting voices of human’s and Orcs up ahead.

[selfexiled]

The crude voices of orc mixed voices of man rose up to meet them as they passed through the darkness. Light could be seen near the end of the passage, it seems to open up into a cavern but of what size could not yet be determined. Acknowledging Koreshian's motion to halt Gerlad did the same and sat and listened trying to determine the number of voices in the room.

Either the orcs outnumbered the men here or the men were just not talking but Gerald could pick out only three human voices at the moment and atleast six different orcs many of them carried the same tone to their voice and it was hard to tell them apart, time was not thier friend, eventually someone would come down the passage and find them and they would have to fight anyways. Better to start it now with surprise than to be surprised and have the whole of the fortress rain down on them. Edging closer to the opening, Gerald looked and saw that his numbers were correct there were only nine voices... talking. Another four had thier faces buried in a table of food and several lumps on the floor that could only be sleepers were on the edge of the shadows. So thirteen, not counting however many were asleep, not really the numbers best suited for two attackers but Gerald had a feeling that Koreshian would revel in such a battle his great axe more than a match for anything in the room.

Turning Gerald motions the numbers he sees and waits for Koreshian's response while mentally running the fight through his head to try and foresee an outcome before it began.

[Retribution]

The massive mound of barbarian muscle inclined his head and his blue eyes took on a gleam that seemed to glow from an internal fire. One could not say if Gerald had ever seen a Berserker before but he was seeing one now. Koreshian gripped Bane in both hands and took deep and steady breaths as every muscle in his body seemed to bulge and cord more and more.  At last he turned his heated gaze toward the entrance of the cavern that was back lit by magma light as he gripped the great ax Bane in an across his body two handed hold. Koreshian drew a deep breath and bellowed “BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!”

The name of the god of war was still echoing through the caverns when the massive mound of bad intentions darted in amongst the humans and orcs with a speed that was hard to believe for a man of that size.  A human and an orc died before they had probably even realized they were under attack their blood sprayed across cavern walls and some over the edge of the pit to sizzle below. The next orc was just reaching for his sword when Bane took him diagonally from left collar bone to right hip. Another had time to bring his pole ax up only to have the haft shatter and Bane continue on through to remove his face. Another of the beasts was rising when the spike at the head of the haft planted between his eyes. Five were dead in but three heart beats but now the remaining eight had time to react and were descending on the axman.  Real to the death between true warriors after all tended to be swift and brutal and not very majestic.

[selfexiled]

Well whatever surprise they might have had was now spent. The benefit of Koreshian's charge was that five opponents were now dead most before they could stand, but now all the others in the room were up and what was originally thirteen then reduced to eight is now up to fifteen since teh sleeping bodies were now awake.

Allowing the opponents to circle and close on Koreshian a few moments more, Gerald lets them get a little tighter together, Falto! Light erupts from the end of his spear and streaks across the room like an arrow connecting to with the orcs on his side of the circle. Of course the one to take the brunt of it is charred to a crisp and his surrounding companions though not nearly as cooked also fall the count drops by six. Using the momentary chaos created by the magical explosion Gerald rushes in himself not ever content with fire off magic from the back. Impaling the closest one then withdrawing and swinging out he slices open the chest of another. As another orc charges he jerks up the butt of the spear and with a very audible crack plants one under the chin lifting the orc off the ground before it crumpled to the floor. Then on a downward strike Gerald brings his spear to bear on another attacker who has sense enough to block and a short power struggle begins. Gerald lets go of one hand giving the orc the advantage, he takes it and throws the spearhead wide but he left himself open. Gerald let go of the spear to reach for his short sword, in the same motion of the orc pushing his spear away his other hand brought the sword to bear and ran it through its chest.

[Retribution]

It was probably not quite what the King had in mind Koreshian thought amusedly as he drew a lot of attention. But then he felt the foul sting and stench of elfin magic and figured it was working just fine when Gerald joined the fray. The opponents were now very confused at the chaos that had erupted among them and they were not working in a coordinated group.  Gerald and the big barbarian were and the outcome was inevitable as well as brutal. Soon nothing but corpses in the final twitching throes of death remained littered across the cavern.

The big barbarian calmly pulled a rag from his pouch and began wiping the bit of his ax clean.  He had a few cuts but they were minor.  As he tucked the rag back away and hefted his ax he pointed with his chin toward the cavern “unless I am mistaken your Queen is there.  The stench of magic is very strong” from there he once more left the King to take charge and the lead. He was the King after all and it was his woman they were going to retrieve.

[knifeparty]

He comes pacing up the stairs towards Maeryn as if in answer to her bleakest moment of abandonment yet. His pale skin almost glows in the low light of the cavern, but he is no ethereal apparition in her dreams this time. He is real. His forearm is dark up to the elbow with dried blood, which is beginning to flake away - and so is his knife, though it glistens, still wet with something recent. Slung over his shoulder is an Orcish war horn.

"Maeryn."

He stood on her step and extended his red, right hand to take hers. He speaks softly enough that his voice barely echoes in the stoney passages. "Servants of Brom have arrived...they shout his name at the gates. They mean to shout your name to you, though. We have to leave them, if you want the death I promised you."



He raises the Orcish horn to his lips and blows. The ugly sound blasts down the tunnels, taking its trail of echoes with it and then an unsettling silence takes its place. He discards the horn, throwing it down the stairs with a weak clatter.

And then the reply comes. Horn sound after horn sound erupts through the mountain hive as the Orcs awaken to meet the threat at their doorstep. The growls and calls to arms begin to filter up the stairs to Maeryn and he points behind her, to where she has come from. "I know how to leave. Climb!" his collarbone nudges her up the stairs she's just descended and he begins to run up them, while the Orcs swarm in the bowels of the fortress below.

He leads her ever upward, winding passage after winding passage until she notices the air get colder and become a breeze. The tunnel terminates in daylight and a precipice, upon which is a makeshift crows nest lookout. Two lookouts are there, they're awake and snarling as soon as they catch sight of Maeryn and her saviour.

"Kill them, Maeryn. let us out."

[selfexiled]

The echoeing raspy din of a horn rattled throughout the caverns, and then answered by many more from all directions. "Shite!! I thought we left our path clean of the living." said Gerlad with a noticable amount of anger and irritation in his voice. "If they want to blow a horn they should atleast blow a good one."

Gerald reached down to his waist and pulled a seemingly ordinary pouch from his belt, but ordinary it was not. It was an oddity that he had found in his travels that turned out to be very useful indeed, it was a void pouch. Magically stitched into this pouch was an alternation space empty, void, and endless. He could store any number of things in it so long as it fit in the mouth of the pouch itself. From here he pulled his own horn, hand-crafted himself from the horns of the Ograint he slew many decades ago before he wa even gifted his fine spear. "Now to teach them what a real horn sounds like." With a deep breath Gerald brought the horn to his lips and blew through the horn, the sound escaping its cavernous mouth sounded of rolling thunder and the trumpets of heaven, all who hear it find an energy they didn't know they had. Once it was blown in the city and the sick and bed ridden sat up with a new found strength. On the battlefield armies have frozen in place just by its sound. No trace of magic can be found on it, its sound is pure and strong and natural.

Expending his breath Gerald brings down the horn and slips it back into his pouch which he then reties to his belt. Hefting his spear he turns to Koreshian and says, "Let us find our treasure and be done with this place, and may our path be crimson for a millenia after our passing."

[Retribution]

Koreshian made a face at the sound of the horn but he understood the utility. He also looked at the cavern they were headed into. The passage was narrow and supplied with enough bends to make access difficult. He pondered the implications as the blast of Gerald’s horn had given him a moment to plot. He then looked to the King “head for your treasure I can hold them a good while here as they will have to come at me one at a time or maybe two at most.”  The big man leaned Bane against the wall while he unslung his bow but now sadly his quiver only held six arrows. He pulled his hand ax and laid it in easy reach as well because it to could be thrown and the bend in the passage would offer him cover. It was as they say in military terms good ground.

“Try and find her and I will hold them here as long as I can then I will be leaving foot prints up your back” I glanced at the King.  “When you hear me coming time is indeed up” without waiting for a response the big man turned back and knocked an arrow. He then peered around the bend and leaned hard on his bow the wood and sinew creaked as he waited for his target to become clear.  It was good sense after all the Queen was as likely to fry a Wolf Barbarian as look at him after all.

[selfexiled]

Noticing Koreshian's expression to the horn but waiting for him to finish Gerald says, "I know it does not seem the wisest choice but a horn would only be used to summon a large force to a single area so let them think we a greater number than we are. It will make them cautious and slow." Gerald felt a little wrong leaving the barbarian by himself but his words were true. "Very well, but don't feel you must stay indefinitely, I'd rather you fall back down the passage to me than to die alone in this hole." Gerald took a moment to salute Koreshian not that he was sure Koreshian knew or cared about the meaning, "Fight well my battle brother, and may your enemies clog the gates of hell."

turning Gerald made his way down the passage, though it had many turns and corners it seemed to be a straight shot down to its end. As he neared the end of the passage though he began to smell blood and death as it was carried on a frigid breeze. either the mountain had a hole in it or he was coming out one of its sides. Before he found out though he found the bodies of several dead orcs. The warrior in him took a heightened state of alertness. Slowly he made his way to the mouth of the passage as it emptied into a pit with a single ledge with a set of manacles hanging from a 'T' bar. A short investigation told him that the prisoner had been freed somehow and had lain in the now gelled pool of blood for a time before getting up and moving back into the mountain. There, it was a hand print smeared on the wall, it was certainly not a orc hand nor any of thier barbarian partners it was to small and thin. He moved to it and saw it led down a different passage, he would have run on following the markers but he felt the need to grab Koreshian first... They knew we were here and this new passage was red with blood it was unlikely that any threat would come from that way. Taking several paces back down teh path he came from Gerald shouted, "Koreshian!! To me!! She is not here!! There is another path, red and bloody!!" The large man was quick for his size so Gerald waited for him at the intersection knowing that if he could it would not take him long to arrive.

[Retribution]

Koreshian loosed arrows till he was out of arrows. He had not seen Gerald’s salute he was well busy, but then he drew his ax and went to work. His orcan foes as he had expected had to come at him in ones and twos. And soon their own corpses were getting in their way and the sound of fierce battle rang down the corridor to Gerald.  The big man of course heard him but occupied as he was he could not break to catch up without getting cut down from behind. Also the narrow passages made it hard to properly ply an ax so he was using the spike at its head as much as the blade.

At last the piling corpses of his foes gave him some space though.  And the big man snatched up his hand ax and sacrificed it to buy time and space. He sent it spinning to bury in the lead orc and then turned and sprinted in the King’s direction. He knew they did not have much time but he had earned them some time and space.  Koreshian was very fast for his raw mass it was a gift of birth that had made him so dangerous.  And he did not reckon Gerald would need telling that hell was on his heels when the big man sprinted into view bloody ax still in hand and bow sans arrows slung across his back.

[FaeBorne]

It knew her name? She froze as the name passed the lips of the Spirit walking towards her. She stared at him her blinks almost owlish, the dagger she held grasped with white knuckled ferocity. He is here with me, and he is real! Elated that the Death-Seer in her dreams was not a slip of her mind into madness. Or had she truly fallen into mental disrepair? A breath left her mouth in a puff as she chose not to  listen to his words lost in her own reverie. The sound of the horn, and then the response of many sent a dark chill straight into her marrow. He was leading her back to the precipice, back up...up...up. She climbed with him staring at the blood on his blade and then finally she heard his voice, dark and torturous to her ears.

"Kill them, Maeryn. let us out."

That voice burnt into her very soul and those jade green eyes centered on the two Orc guards that blocked her freedom. The dagger she had clutched felt heavy in her palm as she stared with lethal intent at her victims. A scream ripped from a parched throat in a shrill keening howl. This was why her Kingdom had feared her, this was why she had been plucked from the fires of her village as a child. This was her Destiny. Hissed words echoed in her subconscious egging her on in a chant.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."

She leapt in fury at the first of the two Orc, with a vicious upward strike the dagger ripped in-between the seams of poorly made armor eviscerating the heavy gutted lookout with nary a second thought. As the Orc fell forward she lifted a bare foot to his midsection kicking him aside while yanking free her blade, his blood slickening her foot. She skidded slightly in the warmth and ducked the swing of the second lookouts fist. The whoosh over her dirty red locks made her narrow her gaze on the face of her enemy. Her breathing shallow, and her eyes vacant, the scent of blood filled her nostrils with its tangy bouquet. With another leap into the other Orc she brought the dagger sideways into its throat, hanging her weight on the blade and ripping the Orc's scream straight from its mouth leaving only the bloody hiss of a death rattle. She fell with her enemy this time landing on his chest with a dull thud removing the dagger in a spray of gore that wept across her face like the paint of a warrior true.

This was no Queen, this was the savage adopted spawn of Draxin Vayos, acolyte of Hahrutyne, blood letter, and Mistress of Darkness. She looked over her shoulder at the Death Seer who commanded her to kill and bringing the blade to her lips licked the salty tang of blood from the steel of the blade with not even a shudder of revulsion. She could hear more coming up the red bloody path he led her and she would cut them down as well if they rounded the bend. Her voice was a command as she spoke to her savior jade green eyes narrowed and dangerous. 

"Get me OUT!"     

[knifeparty]

The sound of metal on metal rattles and scrapes as the tower of an Orc rises to the sound of alarm calls. He casts a shadow of four or five men, and scores more adorn his armour as a patchwork of all the dead that have fallen in his past. Elvish plates of armour lashed to the skulls and shields of men cover every inch of his mountainous frame. Entire lineages of elves and men now encrust Jawbraekka The War Tyrant, and their pendants of faith now hang from the horns that savagely wreath his head.

"To the gates, grind them into the mountain!" he snarled at his wardens.

The wardens roared in reply and began to disperse like cockroaches, disappearing into the gutters of the tunnels to gather their respective crews of cut-throats. The sound of bodies trudging through the tunnels pauses only at the blast of Gerald's horn. A small party of raiders don't call to arms with horns...perhaps an entire army is here for the queen. Perhaps it’s only the sound of Jawbraekka's threats from the heart of the mountain that reignites their blood lust.

The orcs pour into the cavern as a tide of teeth, iron and blades, finding their dead brethren strewn across the floor in a trail of death that leads into the up-tunnels, as they like to call them. The leading scout kicks an arrow-riddled corpse onto its back.

"Get the shields...."

Grunts echo up the tunnel as the slabs of steel are passed overhead and taken up by two orcs and brought down with a resounding smash that blocks most of the light going up the tunnel. The shields are overlapped to take up the entire width of the tunnel, their height leaving almost nothing exposed. The rest of the orcs fall into line behind, two by two column of savagery.

“Heave! Flush ‘em out, we’ll scrape ‘em off the walls”

The shields are hefted inches off of the floor and the orcs stampede up the tunnel, a piston of plate iron intent on squeezing the life out of the barbarian and king.

[selfexiled]

With one look at Koreshian Gerald nods, "I see you had a great conversation with our hosts. But it sounds like more are coming, we must move." Gesturing towards the other passage with the bloody smears, "We go this way." Without a second thought or looking back Gerald moves off into the tunnels. The way is well marked with blood and bodies and empty for the moment.
He hears a dull roar from he can only guess beneath him and... to his left. As they move through the passages slowly but steadily upwards he pauses, now there is a scraping sound... metal on stone being drug in a hurry but it also sounds intermitten like whatever is carring it will lift it for moment then drop it again.
It's getting louder now, coming around a corner he sees it. Jumping back hoping he wasn't noticed, "Shite! They've a shield wall the size of the passage they'll push us where ever we go if they've found us." he whispered harshly to Koreshian.

[Retribution]

Koreshian glanced over his shoulder and kept moving “well this is not getting any better it is time to run and hope we encounter your Queen while doing so.” But the massive mound of muscle showed a bit of cleverness all the same because he paused and rapped the side of the roughhewn passage several times with the flat of his massive ax.  The action dislodged some flat shards of rock that the big man positioned on the floor right where it met the wall. It was rather like he had fashioned a door stop of course it would not buy them much time but anytime that could be bought was precious at present.

After completing that task he looked around as if pondering any other obstacles he might place in the path of the hoard trailing them.  He spied a groove that ran crossways in the floor from one wall to the other and it was much shallower than the main floor. And like was common in rough passages it was not at all close to being straight so the shield wall would not hit it and drop down evenly. Grunting to himself he reached into the pouch at his side and pulled out a handful of cowtrops. The wicked spikes metal shards had four points and one was always sticking up.  He laid them along the groove for yet another thing to buy them some time.

He then scooped up Bane once more and motioned for him to lead on. They were in a tight spot and standing around and wringing hands about it was not going to make it any loser. And now their options for exit were limited to one particular direction so forward it was.

[selfexiled]

Seeing and understanding Koreshian's moves Gerald nods in agreement and runs out in fron of the shields and makes for the other end of the passage. Thier quarry close the orcs increase thier rush only to wedge the shield on Koreshian's impromptu trap, the wall comes to an all be it short but jarring halt. MOre than a few curses could be heard before the mass behind the shields pushed through and shattered the rock wedge, the delay bought precious seconds as Gerald and Koreshian neared the next bend marked in blood. Angered that they were losing thier prey the horde blindly crossed the caltrops.

Several howls of pain and a great metal crash was heard as they rounded teh corner not caring to look back. They would guess that the orcs holding up the shields found the caltrops first and the instinctual reaction caused them to drop the shields even as tehy were likely pushed forward by the horde behind, causing more to be skewered by the remaining caltrops. It would take time to get the injured both off the shields and out of the way so the horde could move again. Others simply chose to follow without the shields. Which also meant they would be faster than thier brothren.

[Retribution]

Koreshian ran behind Gerald with a tight smile on his lips at the difficulties he heard behind them.  The big man did not make a lot of noise when he ran either again despite his raw size. Of course the little traps he had laid just offered them a slight bit of time and space. If they did not find what they sought soon all would be lost. But then he spotted two ghostly figures in the lava lit gloom up ahead. He slowed and pointed them out for Gerald "there!" He had never seen the Queen in his life but he could not think of why else a human female would be here. But the figure with her did not look right and he smelled the foul stench of yet another kind of magic "careful she is not alone and there is magic here."

[selfexiled]

Following Koreshian's hand Gerald looked up and saw the two figures standing against the light. Yes that was his queen beaten and scarred though she may be even from this distance he knew that shape and that stance. No one else in the world stood like that but her. The pale creature beside her though he had never seen and even looking at him hurt his eyes, there was something wrong about him, something very wrong.

"Maeryn! Maeryn my queen! My love I have found you!" Elation fueled his muscles as he approached the pair at a quick pace but wariness of the pale man kept him from an all out run, unsure of the man purpose for being there.

[Retribution]

Koreshian looked to Gerald and figured he had done what was his task to this point. The finer points of politics and just who to hell it was with the Queen was to some extent his problem now. But he really hoped that they would not take overly long sorting out the entire matter. The axman then turned and faced where the orc hoard would inevitably come from. He gripped Bane and prepared to face his foes because Brom smiled upon those who looked their death in the eyes without fear.

[knifeparty]

He watched Maeryn tongue the blood of the dead from her borrowed blade with admiration. It was beautiful – like watching a lion enjoy its kill, it was pure watching Maeryn do what she was born to. Her heart beats to take the lives of others, and that is familiar. He’s so lost in it he’s almost deaf the other calling her name as they emerge from the depths of the passage, the thunder of orcs behind them.

He turns, backlit by the tunnel exit and casts his deathly gaze upon the intruders. Koreshian can sense his black magic, but Gerald can practically see oblivion radiating from him, falling like black dust from an unseen halo.  He regards the pair of them for only a moment before turning back to Maeryn with his final instruction.

“These two are not for you. Leave!”

The haze of blackness that surrounds him thickens as his presence looks to choke the life out of daylight behind him. He calls to Maeryn’s rescuers.

“Turn and face your enemies or they’ll kill us all.”

He’s already heading for the exit while his eyes leave the two men and the train of orcs that are about to grind them between their teeth. He pushes Maeryn towards out of the tunnel mouth, into the bright daylight she’d not seen for so long. It was windy, bright and cold but it slowed him none. Unarmoured, he was well balanced as he leads a deft, scrambling run and climb across the face of the mountain.

[selfexiled]

Never in his life had Gerald seen so dark a creature. Death and decay dripped off him like sweat and tears, ash seemed to rise from his every movement. Surely he was death incarnate. But he knew the creature's words were true the orc horde was still coming and they would have to be stopped before anyone could think of resting.
Pointing to the creature beside Mearyn, "You and I will have words later, demon." Turning to Mearyn He unslung a sack hidden beneath his cloak all this time, "My queen I believe you shall feel more comfortable in these." Passing the bag towards her with a small reverance, it was her armor. Setting it down before her he reached to his void pouch opened it and drew out her old friends, her blades... setting them before her as well, "Arm yourself and make for the exit you've been in these caves to long."

Turning now he moved up beside Koreshian, "You really should leave too, I can think of only one thing to stop them and it will kill you too."

[FaeBorne]

Ears having been deafened to the sounds of familiarity by so long in captivity preened at the sound of her name being shouted from the lips of the man she had chosen as Tirasfel's King. Lord Fosten, Gerald.....Love? There was no more room in her heart for such emotion and she whirled in a spin of tattered robes drawing herself up in regal stance. Legs spread, blooded dagger clung to with a viciousness that seemed to coil about her entire form and spew from eyes so green they would put emeralds to shame. Her tongue dragged over split dried lips and she said nothing, silent in her confusion. Had Fosten finally come for her? She looked passed him towards Koreshian unaware whom he was, yet he looked every inch as the Barbarians that had helped to kidnap her. She stepped backwards from Gerald, one step, two, heels smacking into the dead body of the Sentry she had just desecrated.

Bags were pushed into her hands, as well as blades with familiar weight. Startled she broke from the nightmare that had consumed her since the Death-Seer had freed her from her position over the Abyss. The Death-Seer was speaking to them all, and pushing Maeryn towards the entry. Sunlight made her shield her eyes with the pain it brought. Tears unbidden streamed from those beautiful orbs for no other reason save having been starved so long from radiance, they had been unaccustomed and were in blinding pain. Turning from the exit she looked once more at Fosten as he spoke to her and gave over to her, things he knew she needed.

Maeryn held the items gifted by Gerald tight against her, the dagger she had used dropped into the dirt and laid forgotten. She stared over her shoulder at Fosten and her brow furrowed. Words choked out upon her lips, and she still remained stoic and silent, unable to give him any encouragement. Nodding at him as he told her to go while he turned to face the horde of Orc that were coming to bring death to them all. Confusion rode over her face destroying any other emotion she had, save wrath. Anger fueled her to follow the Death-Seer, who had not failed her yet and she turned to run for the exit, following the one Gerald had labeled as Demon.

Arming herself would have to wait but she held her armor and blades as if they were precious things. There was barely a second to lose as her feet took to the side of the Mountain path he ran upon and she scrambled behind him with an iron will not to trip and fall. Finally her voice called out as she fought to catch up with the dark man-thing that had saved her.

"Wait... wait for me..."

Eyes closed, tears making dirty tracks along her grub-ridden pale cheeks and neck.  She knew not who she followed, save that he had saved her, but to what end? Was this just another, who wished her harm. Feet did not slow, because in the back of her mind a tiny voice reminded her. 'He promised you Vengeance Maeryn.....go with him, and kill all who have betrayed you." Whether he waited or not, made little difference, her resolve steeled and she picked up her pace to catch up.

[Retribution]

Koreshian Surestrike Berserker warrior looked between the clearly dysfunctional trio that he found himself allied with and then back down the tunnel to the screeching sound of the iron wall the orcs were once more pushing to grind them all to dust. The death mage made his skin crawl and Gerald’s words were not much better as they were an order to blasphemy his religion. Those who follow Brom might make retreats but to out and out cut and run was not in them. As for the Queen he would let these two men sort that out. One stunk of death and the other stunk of elf and the chieftain of the wolf nomads cared not for that.

So right there he resolved to do several things: first he was about to send that orc hoard screaming to meet their maker, second he was going to send Gerald to sort it out with that death seer sans a certain barbarian’s presence, and lastly when this was done he was going home and gutting a certain Jarl and being done with it. There was a certain gleam in his eyes when he looked back to the King not sure if he had ever seen one of Brom’s when the desperation forced the Berserker out. “Go sort that out” he bobbed his head back toward the retreating Queen and her dark escort “I will slow up these then be right behind you.”

With each word he spoke the barbarian’s voice became more chilling to the soul yet seemed to possess an odd heat. The look in his eyes seemed to cause them to virtually glow.  And the short hairs on the backs of necks stood on end. The retreating death mage and Queen could surely feel it and Gerald would be struck by what it is like to be in the presence of a god’s temporary Avatar. Berserkers legends tell of the fierce shock troops of the barbarians who in times of stress can call on the god Brom’s strengths to be virtually immune to pain and possessing of strength beyond human comprehension. Now they often die once they come down from the high of bearing a god’s will but it is very impressive till then.

Without waiting for an answer the massive mound of muscle and bad intentions turned toward the approaching metal wall with an orc hoard behind it. Gerald would either take his advice or not but Koreshian was far beyond the touch of higher thought now. The only thing he could think of in his fogged and obsessive mind was crush his enemies. “BROM!” screamed from his lips once more as he turned and charged the metal plate that was bearing down on them. Bane held parallel and nearly touching the floor. His thick shoulders collided with the metal plate and there was the crunching sound of Koreshian’s bones breaking while the spike at the head of the great battle ax slid under the scant edge of the metal plate.

The big man paid no attention to his own broken collar bone as he let out a grunt and wrenched the shield wall to a stop and twisted it in the passage so it could not be slid any more. A great din rose up on the other side of the barrier as the wall ground to a halt and physics took over. Those orcs in back were caught pressing against their fellows in front who were now trapped against the shield wall. And with the weight of numbers the orcs began to slowly exterminate one another using the press of their own bodies.

[selfexiled]

Gerald was confident im his queen's ability to care for herself especially now that she would be properly armed, but he knew that she would not be able to fend off all these orcs so he had to stop them from getting to her.

Koreshian wanted him to leave, well that wouldn't happen. They may not be friends but they had a deal and Gerald didn't break promises. Of course if Koreshian kept his current pace he'd likely kill himself in the process and while that would end the agreement it went against Gerald's morals to just let the man die. Vaela It was a slight variation of the first healing spell he learned from the spear which cured poisons this would hopefully mend Koreshian's wounds or atleast ease the pain of them and speed the healing process Gerald didn't know he'd never used this one.

Seeing that Koreshian jammed the shieldwall in place he had to smirk a little knowing the orcs were crushing themselves against it. But how long would it hold? One corner wrenched forward an inch under the pressure but it still held as the rock and dust rained down from the ceiling, it would fall but when and how many corpses would be on the other side?

[Retribution]

His task complete the god left Koreshian and his body visibly sagged as his left arm hung useless at his side.  He held Bane in his right and stumbled back toward Gerald like a drunken man. Slowly the massive barbarian regained his bearings and walked with more purpose but he was clearly exhausted. The din at the metal wall behind them grew louder and louder. It would hold a while and the weight of the dead would hold a while beyond that. They now had time because dislodging the wall would take them time as it would for them to reroute to other exits.

Koreshian broke into a light distance eating jog as he passed the King “let’s go.” Were his only words and his pace was rather good. But the dangling arm slowed him and made him more awkward than normal. But with a dogged determination he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Once they regained horses then things would get simpler if not easy. He did not wait for Gerald or look back to see if he followed it was as one got to know the man typical of the Wolf barbarian. Few words and gruff gestures and soon the entrance the other two had slipped out was at his face bright light and fresh air but still Koreshian did not pause.

[knifeparty]

He had the surity of a mountain goat as he traversed the shale littered, craggy face of the mountain, hurdling smaller obstacles and effortlessly picking his footing. It was like he knew this path, and knew it well.

He heard her and seemed to pause with a reluctance that ate at Maeryn. The comforting weight of presence suddenly threatening to tear away from her and leave her to Gerald, Koreshian and the Orcs.

"Leave your gifts, they slow you..." His voice didnt' carry well on the wind but the flick his hand was enough to suggest she discard her burden.

It was a command, and what choice did she have. He'd outrun them all, including her. She was worn down by her ordeal, he could see it written across her face, and there was pity there at having to drag her through this last part. The image of her licking the blade flickers behind his eyes and recognises the thirst which steels her, again.

"We'll run until dark, Maeryn, they'll be far behind, and then we'll hide. "

And with he leads their descent into the thin scrub of the mountain side. It only rakes his ankles and knees at first, but soon thickens, becoming a tangled, hive of thorns that is several men high. Even the death mage bleeds as he continues to set his ragged pace into hell.

[selfexiled]

Seems that the spell didn't work, oh well, he'll help Koreshian wrap it later if they had the chance. The shield was wedged rather well and the bodies behind it would help slow the horde. Gerald turned to follow Koreshian, Stopping outside the the entryway he turned and released a volley of light balls into the ceiling passage. Falto, falto, falto, falto The blasts echoed mightily as rubble and rock rained down clogging the passage even more. Time for now would be on their side.

Maeryn and the creature were well out of sight but the stnik of darkness and evil was tangable on the air as Gerald followed this path he found the few spots where Maeryn may have slipped on the shale, which was just a disturbance in the dirt and pebbles. Pausing a moment Gerald closed his eyes and took a deep slow breath and slowly let it out as he mentally told his eyes to go beyond what was visible and see auras again. Such was the taint about this other man that it left a trail and he could now see that he went up and then down a further stretch down the mountain. The path he'd taken had been safer than a straight shot, likely more as a courtesy to Maeryn than himself. But Gerald didn't need such things, Focusing again he brought to his hands and feet a layer of 'hair' roots to help him grab at the tiny crevices in the rock face and then carried on the straighter path to converge with the remnent trail of his quarry. But at the same time his use of magic was starting to tell, as he moved his mind had bouts of fuzziness the soul remnent within the spear was coming out with the use of magics and was now starting to fight for control of his body.

[Retribution]

Once they cleared the tunnel the elfling stopped to call on magic and further slow their foes. Koreshian did as well crinkling his nose at the foul smell of magic that seemed to be everyplace now. About then he noticed he could move his bad arm and crinkled his nose even more. Apparently Gerald had spelled him and his natural magic resistance had failed after some time. His arm felt good and he could move it and the massive mound of muscle and bad attitude straightened up and shifted his ax to what had been his bad hand. He also drew some cleansing breaths and while he could not bring himself to thank Gerald he did not scold him either he simply said nothing as if the magic had not taken place.

He then followed Gerald as he clearly called on magic to trail the Queen and whatever to heil that other thing was. It all made him uncomfortable as did the obviously building rivalry between the two men. The big barbarian on a lot of levels did not sign on for that kind of saga but his part was not quite done all the same. Pursuit would be a while catching up and being mounted would be better “I will go get our mounts and I will grab a stray for your Queen.  I can catch up easy enough” that with luck would give time for it all to iron out. He had not mentioned grabbing a fourth mount and he knew he could find them easy enough just follow the stench of magic.

[FaeBorne]

OOC:

Going to see about Locking/deleting the thread. Story will be uncomplete. Have decided to take the story idea in a different direction. Thank you for playing. Sorry if there are bad feelings but Maeryn/Tirasfell has been a long standing plot/story that I've worked on a long time and I feel it would be better served as a one on one rp than group.

Thank you!

-Fae