Search Posts
Anwyn turns to look at the broad shouldered elf who summoned the very plants to do her bidding. "Should you wish me to, I can...knock the goblin out without killing it." She states in Sylvan. "I would prefer not to be entangled as the others are, however."
Anwyn draws her spiked chain and moves next to the elf wizard ready to defend him from counterattack.
Anwyn whispers to Faerin in the Sylvan tongue, "I do not see the shaman you spoke of. If he is not here then we must capture one of these creatures for interrogation."
Anwyn nods, "Yes, a good plan. I would like to determine the number of their forces. What you say of the shaman concerns me greatly as well."
"I believe Raven is the one who has the key, so if we are to return here then we must also find him as well." Anwyn replies to the warrior.
Anwyn watches the approach of the return party with a look of apprehension. "Kitao, something is wrong. Something happened to them." She moves to pick up her weapons even before they have entered the cottage. After she hears the story of the goblin ambush, she nods in agreement. "We must warn the village immediately! We cannot afford to have the goblins gain a foothold close to where we are living." She replies in Sylvan as she gathers her cloak and other supplies preparing to depart.
Alan is returning? Sweet! Anwyn (and me) are both excited to hear this! I hope he can stay for a long time!
Anwyn considers his words carefully and nods in reply, "Your words made a lot of sense. It is unfortunate where I am from we do not have the luxury of pursuing perfection in whatever field one chooses. Back in my land, we must devote all of our energy to fighting against the Dark One and his minions." She sighs softly, "Perhaps that is why I am concerned with power above all else." He face brightens as she adds, "I would like that, but I cannot guarantee our paths will stay the same forever. Still a fine warrior like yourself would have a place among my people."
Anwyn frowns. "It sounds to me as if your Lord sent you on a fool's errand, as perfection is not attainable by us." She waves a hand around her. "Whoever built this home, this tree, is far closer to perfection than such as we." She gives the warrior a smile. "Still it would be an honor to walk with you on your journey."
Anwyn's face betrays her confusion. "I...I do not know what you speak of. From what I heard, these portals should not exist, yet here I am. I wish to find one of these portals so I may return to my homeland. What of yourself? Do you wish to return to your homeland, or is there a mission you are undertaking for your Lord?"
If Anwyn is upset about the mispronunciation of her name, she gives no indication of such. "To be honest Kitao, I am not sure how I arrived here. I do remember running from the Dark One's forces, and through a strange arch...but little else. I believe Mother told me of such places. Gates or Portals she called them." She shakes her head. I can tell you little more than that."
Anwyn motions for him to rise. "There is no need to beg forgiveness from me. We just have not been formally introduced yet. Need I remind you, you were knocked out cold before we had the chance." She offers her hand to him, "I do not stand on formality with my friends. Call me Anwyn."
Anwyn nods, "The bushi sound a lot like the Shadarim, who are a caste unto themselves. We are sent to perform our duties as instructed by...those we serve. Quite a burden it must be to serve your Lord in all forms of battle. True war does tarnish things, where I am from war has been the constant state since long before my birth. I do not see it changing anytime soon." She takes another sip of the tea. "This is quite delicious. My thanks to you again."
A look of surprise shows on Anwyn's face as she realized he knew the Sylvan tongue. Very talented indeed... She responds to him in Sylvan, "You are a bushi? Is that similar to a protector to your Emperor? What are you doing so far away from your Lord's lands?"
Though he uses a broken form of language, she is able to pick up the gist of his words though some of them escaped meaning. Still, his mannerisms were comforting in a way. It reminded her of some of the times she had spent with her mother Solvistania and her father on those rare occasions the three had dined together. How she wanted to see them again! "You are welcome my...Lord." She replies in a steady voice also in the Traders tongue. "You are one of great honor and you do me honor by sharing your culture with me." She then sips the tea. She found surprisingly delicious. This one has many talents, I can see that now.
While she was not familiar with this strange man's customs, she knew an invitation when she saw one. Nodding in acceptance, she gracefully sat down on the mat provided to her mimicking his sitting style as best she could. Still not sure what the ceremony consisted of, she paused for a moment waiting for the man to continue.
After finishing her exercises, Anwyn moves to help the strange man prepare the common area for arrival. Not aware of the fact he knew the Sylvan tongue (as in her own experience only elves and other nature races knew the language), she communicated via simple pantomimes. More than once, the warrior notes the elvish woman eying him with a speculative look in her eyes.
Anwyn looks up from her training exercises with the stone obsidian sword, swinging it around in various angles and also practicing various combat stances with the unwieldy blade. She fingers the elk hilt thoughtfully and replies in the only tongue the others easily understood. Sylvan: "A wise idea. Those who hunt me are not known for abandoning their prey at the first setback. Bloodhounds could take lessons in persistence from those who serve the Dark Lord."
By the way, did you perhaps save the Healer PrC I created for Gilian? I managed to loose it somehow... Nightflier, HERE is a link to your Healer PrC. I found it by searching your posts for it :)
Anwyn nods to the elf's request to accompany him as he points to the trees indicating the need for dry firewood. She wraps herself tightly in the winter cloak, and turns to Faerin speaking in the Sylvan tongue, Sylvan:
"I have no bow and so would be useless in hunting for game. I shall go with the others. Be careful out there, I fear this place holds more dangers than we have seen thus far." Later as the wood gathering party is underway, she unslings her obsidian blade and holds it awkwardly in one hand. Sylvan:
"This blade is unnaturally sharp, and should prove useful in cutting some of the smaller saplings for firewood."
Anwyn gathers her few possessions together unwilling to leave them unattended in this strange place. When she receives the news the place is completely empty, her expression grows troubled. Sylvan: "I do not like this at all. Perhaps slaying that witch caused the spirit who watches over this tree to flee or perhaps it was released from bondage?"
I am available to post over the holidays if necessary.
Anwyn gives the moon elf a dazzling smile and nods in agreement with his words. She then proceeds to pull her winter cloak over her body, covering up her dress. Sylvan: "You speak wisely. Food is much needed now, plus I do not trust the intentions of the spirit which infests this tree."
Anwyn replies to Faerin, a note of bitterness mixed with anger in her voice. Sylvan: "Food was no more scarce for me than it was for all other slaves...or for those who resist the Dark One's embrace!"
Anwyn awakes from a restful sleep feeling better than she has in a while, despite the rumbling of her stomach. Stowing her winter blanket in her pack, she removes her heavy cloak and puts it away as well. The others note she is wearing a fine shimmering black silk dress with matching shoes, a style unfamiliar to those even of elvish heritage. On a closer look, while the dress will well-crafted it does show signs of wear and would need to be mended soon. Needless to say, the dress is ill-suited for this winter weather. While she hangs her spiked chain on her belt for easy access, the strange obsidian blade she leans against the wall instead and hangs her pack on the curved elk horn hilt of the blade. She accepts the offered ration with a nod of thanks and devours it greedily. As the rest you watch the beautiful drow, you also see signs of malnutrition on her face and body.
Anwyn stays back near the entrance making sure no one follows the group inside. Once the main area is secured, she finally sinks to the floor her fatigue finally getting the best of her. As she sees the others starting to split up and explore the tree, she unrolls her blanket on the floor and lays down while covering up her body as best she can. She mutters softly to Faerin, not particularly caring if the others overheard her, Sylvan: "Only fools accept such gifts without being able to look the benefactor in the eye. I shall remain here."
Anwyn watches the exchange between the half-elf and the door silently, though her face picks up when he uses the wand to gain entrance. Hmmm...so the goblins were living here? Interesting I think. Best be extra cautious. This place holds many secrets. Once the door is open and the way cleared, she pulls the litter inside and sets it on the ground. Once secured, she pulls her spiked chain out and scans the interior of the hut for any sign of ambush.
Anwyn nearly drops her end of the litter she is carrying as the door animates and speaks. The look of surprise is easy to see here While not understanding the words of the conversation, it was fairly easy to determine the gist of it. She keeps her mouth shut for now but her face betrays her impatience and worry. Such wonders I have seen here in my short time in this place! Would that Mother were here to see this...Still if we do not gain entrance by words then violence must be used here. She thinks to herself.
Anwyn lowers the litter carrying the unconscious body down to the ground and glides over to the hill scanning the area for threats.
She then turns to Faerin and questions softly, Sylvan: "Is this where the crone's lair is hidden?"
Anwyn stares for a moment at the elf, unsure what to make of her. She then nods resolutely in agreement. She then replies to the male elf in the archaic form of Elvish, as she picks up one end of the litter carrying the unconscious warrior. High Elvish: "We know of a place to shelter, but we must move quickly."
On seeing the black-haired elf step towards her with a look of hostility and saying that word 'Drow', she reflexively slips into a combat stance before cooler heads prevailed. Noticing the elf staring at her, she decides to extend a hand in friendship. Lowering her spiked chain (but keeping it at the ready, she says to the former slave in the archaic elvish tongue High Elvish: "Your name is Ihar'ryathlas, I gather? I am known as Anwyn, a stranger to these parts. Your thanks are not required, bringing freedom to those oppressed by the Dark One is enough for me."
Anwyn slowly sheaths her blade in the makeshift scabbard so she can carry it without being duly encumbered by it. She moves as if in a trance of some kind. The soft words spoken by Faerin seem to bring her back to reality. Pulling her cloak even tighter around her frail form, she nods slowly, her reply barely above a whisper. Sylvan: "Yes, you are right. I pray this will suffice. We do not want the Dark One to send...reinforcements. As for the meaning of the symbol...yes that is a succinct way of phrasing it. The true explanation must wait for a later time. We must go now."
Anwyn pauses as the others discuss what to do with the corpses. When she realizes the corpses will not be burned, she shakes her head slightly but says nothing. Waving off the others, she draws a blade which hung from her back. The obsidian blade is black and the hilt is slightly curved elk horn. She then steps to each of the corpses and with a swift stroke, decapitates both the goblin witch, his bodyguard, and finally the ogre. After completing the grisly task, she turns her attention to the iron amulet adorned with the symbol of the Dark One. Her red eyes gleam as she proceeds to slice the symbol in half, destroying it...
While I would agree with MDT about the lethality of this encounter, I now have a sneaking suspicion HOW and WHY they are overpowered...looks like these guys are from Anwyn's home world...where evil holds complete sway .
Anwyn looks over the unconscious samurai warrior making sure he has stabilized. She turns to Faerin and says in Sylvan. Sylvan:
"He will live for now, but he needs shelter. Can you make a litter for him?" As Raven looks over the items, her eye is drawn to the amulet held up by the paladin. She hisses and utters a vile oath. She then moves to grab the amulet from Marcus while exclaiming a vile curse in her native tongue. After a second she calms down and says in Sylvan, Sylvan: This is a holly symbol of the Dark One! They must have followed me! We need to burn these corpses so His forces do not find us!"
Anwyn shudders as the effects of her Raven Speech ebb from her eyes, leaving them their normal hue. As she looks over the clearing she sees the others quickly dispatch the fleeing goblin. Shivering as the adrenalin stops flowing, she moves over to the unconscious warrior and proceed to tear strips of clothing from his cloak and wraps the wound tightly to prevent further blood loss.
Anwyn nods as Faerin regains consciousness and then checks the battlefield. Seeing the ogre drop along with the strange construct and foreigner causes her to smile grimly. I hope I have access to my powers here in this world... Stepping away from the ranger, she advances upon the goblin knife-wielder and stops just within optimal bow-shot range. She then calls on the strange language of which only she can comprehend and stares at the goblin, her blood red eyes turning an eerie shade of purple.
Anwyn curses softly under her breath as Faerin is overtaken by the spell. She eyes the goblin mage carefully as she bends down to rouse Faerin from the magic-induced slumber.
Anwyn gasps for breath as the rest of the party catches up to the source of the tracks. Ignoring her fatigue, she scans the battlefield assessing who the true threats were facing them. Drawing her spiked chain, she interposes herself in front of Faerin while staying out of the other woman's line of sight. She slips into a ready stance, balanced on the balls of her feet while keeping her gleaming eyes fixed on the ogre. She barks an instruction in the sylvan tongue. Sylvan:
"Slay the wand holder. I will keep the ogre from interfering."
Anwyn does not waste her breath with a reply here, instead trying to conserve her stamina for the upcoming battle. Idly she wonders whether the ogres of this world were similar to those humanoids from her own land. If that indeed were the case, the battle would prove to be a tough one.
As the group trudges on, she feels a pleasent lassitude spreading within her limbs and more than once she finds herself slipping behind the human who befriended her. Still she pressed on, knowing the forces of Shadow in this world would not give up easily.
Anwyn shudders in remembrance of her own days as a slave not very long ago. She turns to face Faerin, a deadly serious look in her eyes. Her reply is intense though muted. Sylvan: "You are wrong. Where I am from, slaves would beg for such a release. We must free them!"
Anwym slides behind Faerin and whispers softly into the other woman's ear in the sylvan tongue, Sylvan: "These ogres...they have slaves with them."
Anwyn shivers in her heavy cloak, due more to fear than the actual chill in the air. As she watches Faerin study the large footprints, her own hand grips her chain tightly ready for an ambush.
Once Anwyn has received the translation of Marcus' words from Faerin, she nods in agreement with his plan, as memories of avoiding those forces of the Shadow begin flooding her mind.
Anwyn only nods weakly in reply, clearly still shaken by the wolf's appearance. She adds in Sylvan, Sylvan: "I agree, we need to press on here." |
