Well, thanks everyone for a fun romp of demon killing. I appreciated the well thought out characters everyone had, and I hope to game with you sometime in the future.
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Her disappearance took him by surprise again, but he noticed that not everyone else relaxed their guard. Maybe for good measure he should hit the ground again. After all, it did feel good to let out some aggression.
Knowing the demon was about to attack again, and soon, Lorkov prepared his bardiche. The quarters were tight, but it was likely he could get in another good poke.
Lorkov shakes his head and calls upon his inner power. It was because of changelings like this he suffered from his curse. But it would come back to bite them. He suddenly grows to twice his height, his skin darkens to black and his eyes start glowing red. Spittle flings from his mouth as he brings his Bardiche to bear upon the demon. "Fool!" he bellowed. "I gave you a chance to escape, now you will suffer the fate you longed for us to have."
Even when it was somewhat expected, watching the demonic transformation right before his eyes was surprising. When it came time to strike he hesitated. The voice of his beloved seemed to echo in his ears. Was she really all bad, or misunderstood? Did she feel that there would be no more talk and decided to try to inflict as much damage on her hated enemy? Was there reason at all in her head, or just fury in her heart that made her like this? He shook his head. This kind of conflict did not have time for such contemplation.
After getting a read on the weather, Lorkov sticks his head back into the shelter. "Unless someone is messing with the clouds, we should be clear for at least a day. Since our mission must be done quickly, I say that we travel at least three more hours before resting." To their host he spoke next. "I can give you directions to the nearest city, but we cannot spare the time or the man power to take you there. I also do not wish to take you on our mission because I don't trust you. No offense, but I wouldn't trust any surprises in this land, especially if they come easy or look too good."
The half orc sniffs the air and peeks his head out of the hole to take a look at the clouds.
Lorkov eyes the seemingly abandoned lady. He didn't trust her, and he couldn't tell if it wasn't a trick. Better to be prepared until she had proven herself. He knew his companions, at least by reputation, but he didn't know her and he didn't make friends easily. If anything, his past had told him that things weren't always what they seemed. He spoke up. "I doubt any of us will get a good night's rest in this place, but we've nothing else to do until this storm lets up."
Lorkov moves toward the barrow at a good speed, taking not to keep out of the quicksand, or anything else that might look like it.
"Toss me the end of the rope and we can all pull together." The big man says, acting like the proverbial anchor. He does his best to assist the others if they link up with him. The trouble to link up slowed him down in the storm, and it was a bit more weight than he was used to. His blood began to boil a bit with the lady's encouragement, but he didn't feel overwhelmed by any bloodlust as of now.
He spotted the not completely broken structure to the left and waved his arm and shouted. "Over here!" He trudged his big boots over toward the structure to get a look inside to make sure that it wasn't occupied.
The large half orc scowls at the storm, attempting to see through what's going on and find the best solution when the warpriest shouted some strange words nearby. What did he call me? His blood began to boil, but he quickly closed his eyes for a second and began his mantra. He said her name a few times in his mind as he calmed himself down. That wouldn't have been possible just a few years ago. Becalmed, he shouted back at the warpriest. "That's not my name, Lorkov is. I'm already looking!" He takes his cloak and covers his face, and does what he says, scanning the horizon for a place of reprieve. Soon he spots a likely place, and takes a few halting steps in what seems to be the right direction.
I'm ready, sorry for the update lag, I thought I posted earlier.
As they walked out of the building Lorkov lowered his left hand to the ground, his claws raking furrows in the dirt. He let the dirt fall through his finger on the small cut he had made inside and rubbed it in a little. "I've some purchases to do. I'll meet you at the western gate. Then we can go."
As it looked as if they were no longer interested in questions, except perhaps the Smart fellow, but he didn't figure he would need to stay here to ask them. He turned to the Samurai and spoke in his gravelly voice as he rose to his full height of Six and one half feet. "I know not of your gods, nor does it matter. Lorkov only acknowledges Shelyn." He took slow methodical steps to the door and nodded to their host. "I am prepared for demons. You just have to hit Demons harder. Like a gentleman he opened the door for the ladies in particular. But the pause caused him to reconsider. "But I might like a new weapon. I think about this cold iron."
The burly beast of a man sat lazily in his seat. He was tall, even for a half orc, with boots that seemed to be tall enough to house a small family of halflings. His black hair and black eyes seemed unnaturally still as he sat, and only the faint movement of his chest betrayed his life. That is unless you were within a few inches of his skin, and then it seemed like he was made of stones from the hearth, and you could feel it radiating. His most exquisite lady was out of town, and he had to wait to get back. One did not live in this city for long and not have the opportunity to kill demons, so he had done perhaps more than his share, and he had the scars to prove it. A little excursion into demon infested lands sounded like a decent challenge, so it didn't bother him. Lorkov gets up and takes a look at the map. Squinting his eyes, he finds Nerosyan and the spot 10 miles east of Sorasta. He placed his hand in front of the map, keeping his middle finger at due north and taking his other hand, he took a nail and scraped through the skin at the proper angle to get from one place to the next being careful not to get blood on the map. "That should do." He said with a heavily accent, although it was tough to really tell what kind of accent it was. He walked back to his seat and sat, waiting for more questions to be asked.
Dotting. I should have all the necessary changes to my character by this afternoon. |