Sorry for still not being ready, I just got promoted at work at the end of January, so I'm still trying to find my way on the new job and I don't have a lot of time, but I will update Alan as soon as I get a breather.
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Hello people,
Alan eyes the turtle surrounded by darkness and tries to sneak by with the rest of the company
Alan takes the sword and gives Anwyn a reassuring look.
As turtle's beaks rip through his flesh, he groans, but the the thought that springs in his mind through the pain is "Better me than the gnome, he doesn't look like he could have taken that attack and lived" He stumbles backwards as the others attack the beast, stopping by Anwyn, eyeing the blade on her shoulder, realizing that the strongest weapon that they have is probably not going to be used by anyone unless he tries to wield it. But, the pain in his tired body tells him that he should go back into the fray only if the others start failing.
Seeing Eadfaas in danger, Alan wills his tired body to move, although slower than the rest, and stands in front of the creature, but outside his reach, trying to, at least attract its attention, if not stopping it.
"We mean you no harm, and I do know that you are not of Shadow. Please, let us just pass" He slightly spreads his lowered arms trying to appear as calming and non-threatening as possible.
I'm here, I was just busy for a few days and sick at the same time. Now, what do you think we should do with the monster? If someone has relevant knowledge they should roll, but if there is any possible way to avoid fighting at this time, we should take it.
Seeing Anwyn's smile, he wearily smiles back to tired to even try to comprehend what she meant by that, and then turns his gaze to the lake and the shadow swimming under its surface everyone is talking about.
He concentrates on the gloom and the shape he can barely discern, trying to feel if the shadow is of Shadow, fearful that it somehow might report their whereabouts.
After that he asks Rÿarkaelin to describe what her keen eyes can see, while he wades through the murky waters of his own memory and knowledge, hoping to stumble on some clue what this creature might be.
The whiff of fresh air stung Alan's face and and he inhaled with full lungs, but instead of invigorating him, it suddenly made him realize how weary he was. His feet hurt, his muscles trembled and his joints ached, and blood loss from a cut on his ribs didn't help the matter. He was sure that he would drift to sleep the moment he would stop and at least lean on something. Come on, Alan, don't be a wuss! You wanted to get adventures and to do something meaningful, and you can't even stay awake. Would your parents whine and feel sorry for themselves in a situation like this? All you did so far was save your own skinAt that moment jerks himself upright, and subsequently winces as the motion brings a stab of pain from his wound. Well, most of it, anyway. With a grunt, he forces his body to start moving again and stands shoulder to shoulder with Lantesh, just behind Anwyn.
Hearing Rÿarkaelin's question Alan says:
Alan nods and looks at Taemon'dow expectantly.
I vote for playing as well.
Alan stays the last one manacled after he released the rest of the company. He holds out the sword hiltfirst to Lantesh and Taemon. "I would be grateful if one of you could remove my chains. Also if either of you thinks you could wield it better than me, please keep it. I could use it, but I do not think I have much aptitude for it."
Surprised and not a bit awed at the capabilities of the blade, Alan stares at it for a second, and not wanting to waste any more time, he says
"Normally, I wouldn't desecrate anyone's resting place, but also I do not think that we have the luxury of being respectful if we wish to survive. This weapon is far from perfect, but is the only one we have, and I do not wish to encounter a single thing down here without a single weapon among us." And as if he was able to understand Therudrim, Alan touches the edge of the blade very lightly with his thumb. "And this sword looks wickedly sharp after spirits know how long a time. It just might cut through our chains without getting damaged. Lantesh, hold hands as wide as you can and spread the chains on the ground between them." Lifting the unfamiliar blade a bit awkwardly as he says this, he swings hoping that he will not slice anything that is not steel.
Holding it in hands, Alan looks the sword more closely, trying to see if there are any symbols, details or anything else on the sword. He also tries swinging it in one hands and both hands, and feels the edge of it, wondering if it would be able to cut through the chains without getting damaged.
[ooc]weaponsmithing
Yeah, I'm here as well.
Seeing Taemon stopping before the altar, Alan approaches him and inspects the corpse and this sword.
"We should hurry away, but since this corpse is the only one holding a proper weapon, we should try and taking it with us." Having said that, Alan slowly reaches for the blade, mindful not to touch anything else or activate any traps.
Alerted by Anwyn, Alan tries to discern the nature of the black slime.
And failing to see anything in the gloom, he looks to others with keener senses, hoping they could determine what made those tracks.
Being the last who is coming down, the fighting is getting very close to Alan. Trying to descend through rusty blades of the old trap with more haste than he should, Duncan's chains get snagged on a edge and being jerked back, he loses his balance and feels a blade sinking into his flank.
The pain blinds him for moment, so the only thing he saw were the outlines of those already descended.
Trying to shut his mind to the cries of the people dying around them, Alan feels like he is pushing his way through a thick substance, taking most of his willpower not to try and rush off to help them. Some fighter I am. My parents were right to keep me away from this, I am too weak to take care of myself, let alone fight the Shadow and protect others... And there he was, he reached the spot where he saw the crack in the stone earlier. This snaps him from self-deprecation, as he mentally slaps himself thinking It is not over, I can still try to do some good.
Once again nightflier sends his apologies, but he had an emergency trip during which he will not have internet. He should be back at the end of the week.
Sighing while looking at all the people that will probably just die, Alan does what he know he must.
Seeing the slaver punch Anwyn, Alan jerks his chains in rage, but gives up as he sees that he was relieved of his weapons.
Saying that he starts to move towards the slab, still staying inside of the circle of slaves.
I'm back, sorry for not being able to post. As nf said, I had some major problems with internet access.
Looking at chains around his wrists, Alan sighs, knowing well enough that he has neither the skill to slip them over his large hands, nor enough strength to break free. "We need to approach that slab while the circle of guards still stands" For a brief second he comfortingly takes Anwyn's hands into his own, staining his palms with a small trickle of blood the metal drew biting into her flesh while she was trying to remove the manacles. He looks her into her eyes and confidently says "We will make it" Before turning to stride behind the pale Erunsil, knowing Lantesh will be right behind with Anwyn.
As the pale Elf approaches the small group, Alan appears not to notice him, intently looking all around. For a second his gaze remains fixed at a place just outside the perimeter. His eyes widen and he shifts them, acknowledging the tall Elf. In the next moment, his stance shifts and he appears very confident, like a man who is certain that others will follow where he leads. Under the grime and dust of the road, they see that his gaze and handsome face emanate determination. "Yes, they are Fell in a way, and it appears that they might be of a different kind, they might be an evil older than the Sundering. And, yes, we must act, but not to rash. I might have spotted something. The ground that we stand upon used to be an building of some sort. Just outside the circle of carts there is spot where a slab of worked stone appears to be have a crack where dirt is falling into. I know that it appears slim, but there just might be a chance that there is at least some sort of void beneath it, a relict of the edifice.
Alan gives the other pointers where to look to confirm what he sees.
Alan starts searching at anything around him in the ancient ruins and the cart enclosure that might give him an idea.
For a moment, keeping his hands down between bodies, Alan inspects the chains and decides that it will have to suffice as a weapon. As he lifts his gaze, he catches the eyes of an Erunsil. So, we are not alone, after all, in seriously thinking about escaping. We just need to find a right moment, maybe if a battle ensues. There might be dropped weapons.
With a short glance, he tries to find his companions and other people in the crowd who might have more purpose then fear in their eyes...
...and after spotting Anwyn slowly makes his way towards her, stopping behind her right shoulder. As he arrives, he sees Lantesh almost mirroring his position on the other size, and with one glance exchanged between them he recognizes that the Lantesh is also aware of the Snow Elf and maybe a few others who are ready to fight for their freedom.
Nightflier asked me to inform you that he will be internetless for about 24 hours, and will post right after that.
Nightflier:
Alan shifts his eyes to follow the gaze of the guard, trying to see if there is something in the hills
Alan received a fair share of lashes and kicks from the hobgoblin slave drivers, and all because he wouldn't keep his head down like the rest of the line. If he was not craning his neck to look forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of Anwyn somewhere right behind the cart, he was looking back to see Lantesh, a score of prisoners behind him. This did not start as he - as they had planed. He hopped that they would find the way to Eredane and join the resistance or whoever fought the Shadow. Instead, after barely a couple of days, they were captured by servants of Izrador. It might be their luck that they were captured by a group of not too smart Orcs, or they might have questioned them more closely about the origins of their equipment. But they were too greedy to grab the loot, they even got into a fight over dividing it. After a legate yelled for Orcs to prepare a hundred slaves for the mines, they were just pushed into a crowd, got separated and chained up. We could have been killed just for having weapons. But Alan refuses to be defeated, the only thing that was in his mind since the moment the rusty manacles were bolted around his limbs was escape. And in his mind it involves all of the slaves in the line. His stride is steady and long, and his back straight,a demeanor of someone who never lived under the yoke of the Shadow. Long black hair is matted with blood from a blow he took to the scalp, and with his head still held up high, it is evident that he is far from despairing resignation and his lively dark eyes are constantly moving up and down the line of slaves, trying to plan an escape and look for potential allies. Standing taller than most helped, one of the things he did take after his father, rather then his mother. So far he has spotted a couple of people close to him that drew his attention: an elf, only two places in front of him, and a man a bit to the back, with glowing hair, reminding Alan of a flowing lava he read somewhere about, shining almost like a beacon. We just need to wait for the right time he thinks, determined to approach these two if possible the next time they make one of the rare stops.
Sorry, Vixen, I corrected it
Background is finally done, Grand Moff Vixen and Eric, please take a look at it and see if you like the way I tied the characters in.
I was sure that I posted as a new character. It is mostly done, just a maybe a tweek or two of the feats and to finish up the background. |