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Stormreaver takes advantage of the situation and continues to press his assault, bringing his blade down right through the middle of the specter. Winterfang manages to regroup from the previous attack it had suffered, and snarls at the remaining foes in preparation to strike again.
Stormreaver sneers at the specter that just ended the life of his friend. He quickly slashes his sword at the thing in retaliation.
Stormreaver plunges his sword deep into the specter and then surveys the scene. He sees that everything seems to be in hand for the moment, except for the witch and Winterfang. He knew he could lend aid to his hound faster than the old hag, so he moved to join the fight with Winterfang.
Seeing the spirits become malevolent, Stormreaver considers his options before settling on the fact that his blade would likely prove more useful here over his bow. He draws his blade and nimbly ducks away from the thing's ghastly claw before slicing his blade through it's midsection. He turns to Winterfang, and in his native tongue, calls out: Taiga Elf:
"Winterfang, attack!" His command, however, was unnecessary, as his faithful companion had already lashed out against it's assailant. The canine's teeth snap wildly at the spirit.
"I don't know yet. But I do not think we are alone. I have my reasons." Stormreaver knew his response was vague, but he had little to go on himself other than a memory and breeze that defied logic.
Stormreaver darts back to the campfire. He looks to Skoldir and says, "We are not alone. There is an unseen threat here."
The taiga elf nods. He had already planned on doing a perimeter check before settling in anyway. He strides into the darkness, snaps and cracks of limbs marking his trail as he moves about.
Stormreaver turns his head slightly and lets out three sharp whistles to signal the others. "Thank you for your hospitality. I am Stormreaver, and this here is Winterfang," he says as the canine walks up to his side.
Stormreaver rolls his eyes in disgust at the rotund dwarf. Clearly this was one that cared little for only using what they need. He looked like a bear that had prepared for a twenty year hibernation in two weeks time. Fearing the dwarf's heart might give out from exertion, Stormreaver raised his hands in a show of peace, and says, "Easy, dwarf. I do not come seeking violence. I was looking for a place to make camp and noted your fire in the distance, so I came to investigate. If you are willing to have an evening with peaceful company and the protection of numbers, then I will stay. If you would rather remain in solitude and risk the night alone, then say so and I will depart."
Ugh. Dwarf. It had to be a dwarf. Stormreaver watches the dwarf for a few minutes, quietly trying to assess his nature and disposition, as well as to make sure he is alone. Though he sees no signs of anyone else at this camp. He appears to be alone, and not much of a threat at that. I won't know for sure, though, unless I speak with him. "Greetings, friend," Stormreaver says before stepping into the light.
After pointing out the small grove of birch and the light within, Stormreaver says, "Once we get closer, I'll move ahead and see what it is." When they are a few hundred yards away, Stormreaver dismounts and hands the reigns of his horse to Skoldir. "One whistle means trouble and to come quick. Three whistles means all clear and safe to come over." He looks at Winterfang and says, "Stay." He checks his gear and slips off into the darkness. He quietly moves forward until he can get a good look at who, or what, is the source of the light.
Stormreaver looks to the sky at Skoldir's question. While he knew it would be unwise to risk a large number of people unaccustomed to dealing with surviving in the wilds during a storm, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Part of him wanted to disregard the potential danger altogether in favor of sleeping in the cool outdoor air rather than suffer another intolerable night in the fiery prison that the human dwelling seemed to be. "It is hard to predict what the Turbulent One plans. However, I am certain that I could locate us suitable shelter should Thunor decide to show his wrath." He smirks slightly as he turns his gaze back to the nobleman. "Though, if he is watching our actions closely, he will not take kindly to our having avoided his gift last night. Perhaps you should offer him a prayer for forgiveness." Stormreaver then looks about as the caravan begins to prepare for departure. "Do you plan to travel alongside the caravan, or set out immediately for this wayward human? And what of the crone?"
Stormreaver's rest was fitful at best. His whole body was drenched with sweat when he finally awoke, feeling less rested than he had the night prior. He made his way out of the "inn," taking the pork from the offered meal in hand and drinking down the tankard to try to moisten his parched throat. Once outside, he makes his way to first check on the horses and make sure that they had weathered the storm adequately. Assured that all was in order and that they hadn't been mistreated, he makes his way to a small clearing and sits down on both knees to pray to the Animalmother for her blessings. Before he can begin, he is greeted with the happy nuzzling of Winterfang. He smiles and hands him the smoked pork from the inn. "Here you go, friend. The Nurturer would not want it going to waste." He then says a brief prayer, and the ground around him begins to writhe and change as various small bushes of berries quickly take shape around him. "Thank you, Bountiful One," he says before eating enough of the berries to prevent any hunger pains, and stowing away enough to provide him sustenance for the remainder of the day. He then kneels to the ground, head bowed, one knee to the ground and leaned forward on his fists to conclude his morning prayers. "Green Goddess, grant me the strength of arm to defend your children in all their forms. Grant me the vision to hand out rightful justice to those who would ravage your wilds," He thinks back to the humans he had allied himself with the night before. "And help me to be wise enough to find faithful allies in these lands. Allies true of heart and deed, and honest in their words and promises." He remains knelt down, and slowly feels the power of the earth flow up through his arms and into his core, fortifying his body and spirit. He then returns to the caravan and checks on all his supplies, and await the man he had made allegiances with to exit the building, all the while keeping an eye out for the strange crone.
Without turning to face the human, as he is occupied with trying to maximize the effect of the breeze by positioning himself optimally, Stormreaver replies, "Yes, I had thought so as well. What of the crone? The other man seemed to show her more respect than I would expect, and she seemed keen on acting as well..."
Stormreaver nods eagerly at Skoldir's suggestion, anxious to return to what little reprieve the draft provided. He bids a wave of farewell to the crone and reclaims his seat by the crack, sliding his seat close to it. "What other business would you like to discuss?"
Stormreaver silently weighs the veiled offer presented to him. So, this one claims that his liege would likely reward those who put an end to this bandit-lord's existence. Not necessarily a truth, but regardless, removing a man such as this from the world could be a start in helping restoring order and balance to this realm. Then if his liege truly does intend to reward those who perform the task, perhaps I could gain further aid in my mission from one actually in power in the man-made borders of this "nation." As the old crone gathers her things and makes claim that she is about to go do the deed herself, Stormreaver's heart skips a beat with the potential of escaping the furnace that is this inn, but his brief elation is brought to rest quickly enough as he realizes this is only the senile acts of an old woman, and not in fact a real intent of action. Skoldir had yet to make a move. As he was the most accustomed to the ways of the Saxa and the limits of human physiology, it would be on his call when they departed, if he even chose to do so. Should he plan to confront this thegn, then I suppose I am bound to lend him aid, if for nothing else than to secure my own goodwill among the humans of this land.
Witch. A word the humans tossed around all to frequently to explain practitioners of magic they did not understand. Which, sadly, for much of humanity covered a lot of schools of magic. However, it was possible this old crone was a practitioner of dark, forbidden arts. It would remain to be seen which was the case in her regard. However, Stormreaver's attention to the conversation at hand waned beneath the oppressive heat that these humans seemed to relish in. He knew he was out of his element here in the south, but it was becoming all the more evident now that he was confined in close quarters with a dozen or so men and a fire roaring all too close for comfort. He did not let it show outwardly, however. He knew that these nobles would put much stock in decorum and having their ego's fluffed. As such, he maintained proper posture and refrained from wiping sweat away from his brow as much as possible, but otherwise remained silent.
If you see a new post in a thread, you can click the (x new) and it will jump to the start of new posts.
Stormreaver remains silent under the oppressing heat of the room away from any draft. Well, this one does not share in Lord Skoldir's sensibilities. At least Skoldir's can respect another persons views, outwardly if nothing else.
Stormreaver eyes this new human suspiciously, before reclasping his dagger in place and standing. He looked longingly to the crack in the window frame he was abandoning, but he could not afford to be rude to a servant of the ruler of these lands. He takes what is left of his drink and moves over to the table, collecting his bow, helm, and blade before departing. He hoped Lord Skoldir would accompany him. "I know not who this Thegn Edwin is. As you say I am a stranger to these lands. How the horses came into my possession, well, men riding them attacked this caravan, and I saw that these people were in need of assistance. I joined in the fighting on the side of those being assaulted, and helped repel the perpetrators. Following the battle, Eostre saw fit to help me calm the poor slave-beasts, so that I could see that they would at least be given better lives than what they had endured to date." He glances over at the old lady momentarily, "I believe one of your age would be better suited to riding in a wagon, rather than horseback," and then then resumes his speech to the scarred man. "At any rate, I believe that you humans would consider them spoils of battle. I see it as a liberation of an enslaved soul." Even though he had only moved away from the draft a moment ago, it was easy to see the taiga elf was already beginning to grow uncomfortable. A bead of sweat already was carving a new trail down his brow, and he squirmed in his seat due to the new level of discomfort being generated beneath his sacred armor. "My...my apologies. I have failed to introduce myself. My name is Stormreaver, Reaper of the Animalmother," he introduces himself as he removes his bracers and gloves, using one of the latter to wipe his brow.
As Skoldir makes his request and explanation, it is clear that some of his points do not sit well with the taiga elf. He is visibly displeased with the reference to the horses as mere property, as if they were nothing more than prized slaves to be bartered about on an auction block. The living things of this world are not bargaining chips or property to be bartered about as if they were coin! The way this one talks of them, it's like they do not believe that these creatures can feel suffering or pain. Such lack of disrespect...it...AGH! Stormreaver holds his tongue however, and calms his emotions. Still, this man has spoken more interest in restoring the balance of the world than any other human I have encountered outside of my Order. Perhaps he can be properly educated on the way of things, despite his barbaric upbringing...only time will tell. "You are correct in one thing in your thinking, and that is trusting my assessment. These horses would not survive in the wild now that they have been broken and raised in bondage. They know not how to fend for themselves properly in the wild. It would be an act of cruelty to release them at this point, but only slightly crueler than the fate they have had to live thus far in their existence." He looks Skoldir over, as if appraising him, before continuing. "I shall allow you and your man the use of two of the horses, and I shall take care of the needs of one myself. I will allow the other two to be used by members of the caravan under my supervision, with the understanding that any mistreatment bestowed upon them shall be revisited upon the abuser. If I determine someone as worthy to treat the animals properly and with the respect they deserve, I shall relinquish custody of their care to them, but if they are found wanting, I reserve the right to revoke the perpetrator of the privilege of the horses company. If you can make this understood to the people, I can agree to those terms." The taiga elf's words are as cold as the lands his people hail from. It is clear that he is more than willing to live up to his end of the arrangement, whichever way it may go.
Excellent. I had expected to have a more difficult time recruiting allies to my cause. This man must really be desperate. Stormreaver shakes Skoldir's hand. He had noticed the old crone already, but this new eavesdropper actually gave him pause. "Nay. Whoever he is, he does indeed seem to have taken a distinct interest in our conversation. As has the crone by the door. Is it common among humans to intrude on the conversations of others so blatantly?" He lets his hand slip down beneath the table and releases the clasp securing his dagger in it's sheath. His sword and bow were propped up behind him, but should things turn ugly, the dagger may prove more practical in these enclosed environs. If this nosy human wants trouble, at least I will be prepared.
Stormreaver listened intently as the human spoke. For the first time since he had entered the sauna he now sat in, he had forgotten his own discomfort. The Withered Lands? If things are as bad as he claims, then perhaps I should inform the Reapers and perhaps we could do something to help stem the tide. I will have to send a message, when the opportunity presents itself. But for now, I have my orders, and must see this task through. When the Saxa finishes his tale and boast, Stormreaver sits quietly for a moment before adding. "Well then, for as long as we share the same path, consider me an ally. It would seem we both share in a desire to return things to the natural order." An idea suddenly came to the taiga elf. He speaks again, the excitement evident in his voice, "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. I know little of the customs of your people. Perhaps, if you could lend me aid in my endeavors here in restoring the balance and punishing those who would continue to do it harm, when we have finished, I could see about perhaps joining you in your quest to put down the abominations of your land and help to restore your forests, fields, and crops?" He takes a drink of the ale, suddenly not caring about the temperature of the beverage. "It would seem you are in need of men, a task that will take some time. Helping to put an end to the turmoil of this land and nurturing it back to prosperity would do much for your influence, I would wager. Perhaps even convince some of the local peoples to return the favor. I seek no glory or fame in my task, seeing the fields and forests teeming with life would be enough for me and my Order. Another task that would take some time, but once set in motion would fix itself, given that those who dwell here can refrain from hindering it's advance." He notices the old crone taking an interest in their conversation, but is not concerned. It was doubtful her aged human senses could even comprehend what they were discussing at this distance, over the din of the room. He returns his attentions to the nobleman across from him. "What do you think? A trade of services? You aid me in the restoration of this land, then I aid you in the restoration of yours?"
Stormreaver offered a nod of respect as the Saxa introduces himself, realizing he was indeed correct, this man was one of the human "noble" families. He smirks at being referred to as a brute. Well, there is a first for everything. "My demeanor, I would say, is a direct result of that which I surrounded myself with in my upbringing. Moreso, I would have to admit, influenced by the Animalmother's teachings than those of my kin. I seek a peaceful coexistence with all living things, and strive to maintain the balance as best I can." He pauses before continuing, but as this Skoldir claimed to be of other lands, he figured speaking plainly couldn't hurt. "As to my task, I have been charged by my superiors within the Order to help restore that balance to these war-scarred lands...and defend them from any that would seek to do it more harm." He takes another drink of the ale, wishing that it was cooler than it was. "And if it isn't overreaching my own station, what brings a Hould out of his own lands and in the company of a merchant caravan, with such a small entourage?" Stormreaver casts a glance in the direction of Skoldir's bodyguard.
Ah yes. Languages added. Taiga Elf and Trader.
As for what Mark means about altering your dice roll, he means as follows: First, you type in your post, with the following code for dice rolling, minus the * mark: [*dice=Test]1d6[/dice] It would look as follows:
You would then hit "Preview" to see the result. Let's pretend that was a dice that exploded. Instead of typing a new roll, I would alter the original to read: [*dice=Test]2d6[/dice] The forum saves your roll, so on the 2d6 roll, the first would always be the roll it originally made on a d6, but would roll a second one. So, should you make a roll and a dice "explode," you can just add another, and another, as necessary until it stops exploding, and the forum will do the math for you at the end. Dunno if that will help anyone, or if I just confused matters. Just trying to help.
Stormreaver took the offered drink with a nod of deference to the man. "I have no definitive plans for the creatures. I had thought briefly of returning them to the Allmother's embrace and releasing them to the wilds, but then I came to the conclusion that they were tamed beasts, and would likely not survive long in the wilds. I also do not intend to let them be abused as I have seen so many men," he casts a glance at the man, before adding, "of all races, mind you, treat the creatures of this world as things to be lorded over, rather than coexisted with." He takes a drink from the mug. While not hot, the drink was warmer than he'd like, given the temperature of the room he was already struggling with. "Forgive me, I have failed to introduce myself. I am Stormreaver, Reaper of the Animalmother. And as for the bandits, I am glad I could be of service. To see one prey upon creatures of it's own race told me all I needed to know of their nature, as well as their outlook on this world. If they would treat their own kind with such callousness, then Eostre only knows how they'd treat other creatures of this world." He extends his arm, offering the man a seat at his table.
Stormreaver sat near the drafty portion of the window like the humans huddled round the fire. It's slight breeze was not enough to win the battle against the flames of the hearth. He had already removed his helm and cloak, and the sweat clearly running down his sky colored brow like small streams. If it weren't for the storm, he would have bivouacked outside with the wagons, beasts of burden, and Winterfang, but instead he was forced to face this unbearable heat. He had been fortunate enough to avoid the bandits that patrolled this land, but when he saw them launch an attack against a poorly guarded caravan, he knew he had to step in. In his mind, it was likely that people willing to prey on the weak could easily have been responsible for much of the destruction to the wildlife and wilderness of this human kingdom. After coming to their aid and driving off their assailants, he had been allowed, welcomed even, to join their caravan and accompany them to this post. He hadn't had opportunity to speak with many of their number, it seemed that despite their appreciation of his aid, most of the humans were not comfortable around one of his kind. He looked about the room at his recent traveling companions, most of them merchants or tradesmen. One, however, stood out from the rest. He sat at a table to himself, aside from the huscarl accompanying him. It was apparent he was of high birth, but there were so many human nations and rankings within each that it was hard to tell just how important this man was. The taiga elf is relieved when the door opens and a gust of the storm raging outside manages to slip in and cool the room, if only slightly. As an elderly human woman made her way inside, unattended, and had a seat near the door, Stormreaver could not help but be intrigued. He had never seen a human of her apparent age, they simply did not survive in the wilds without help. And he had heard tales of many elderly humans walking willingly into the storm, so as to not take up food and supplies that could be used by the younger generations of their clans. That this woman survived, and alone, gave the Reaper pause. "There must be something more to her than meets the eye."
Stormreaver laid out his bedroll as he made his camp out in the middle of the barren field. If that's what you could call this lifeless patch of earth. The damage the humans had done to this land was horrendous, and caused the taiga elf's skin to crawl. Winterfang sniffed the sparse grass nearby, circling and looking for a place to lie down himself. "What people could do this to their own lands? Such disregard for the balance of life. Such ignorance to the natural order of things. Those responsible should be slain to the last man. That is not my duty, unfortunately...but should the opportunity present itself..." He smiled to himself at the prospect of getting revenge on the fools responsible for this pointless destruction. He then looked to his left, and knelt down to the earth. He held his palm out to the ground, and muttered a prayer. "Allmother, please provide for your humble servant this night. Grant me peace in this land of blasphemers, the wisdom to remain focused on my task, and the strength to see it through to it's completion." As he concluded his prayer, a small bush grows quickly up from the ground, with ripe berries quickly filling it's branches. Darting out from the bush with a confused look on it's face, a small rabbit attempts to find cover, but is unable to in this barren land. Winterfang's head jerks in direction of the small animal. Before the creature can make an escape, however, Stormreaver has drawn his bow and let loose an arrow, slaying the creature. Winterfang shakes with anticipation as his master retrieves the rabbit and recovers his arrow. Not allowing the animal to suffer, Stormreaver quickly slices it's throat with his dagger, then cleans the blade. He then cleans the arrowhead and shaft as best he can before returning the arrow to his quiver. "Thank you, Bountiful One, for the feast you have provided your humble servants." Stormreaver then tosses the rabbit to the mastiff, who sniffs at the dead animal before tearing into it's flesh. The taiga elf himself sits on his bedroll near the bush of berries, wipes the sweat from his brow, and eats his fill. Despite the fact that it was the Fall season, this lands unbearable heat got the better of the cold nature of the taiga elf, and he couldn't help but wonder as he ate on the berries why he was tasked with this, and not a human or hearth elf of the Order.
Knowledge of region limited, I'm gonna go with a Reaper tasked by the church to replenish the war torn region's natural habitat.
I still need some input from the all-mighty Crabinok regarding which faction best fits my concept. At which point, I shall scribe the a tale the likes of which has never been seen. Because I have not scribbled it yet. How could you guys see it when I haven't even scribbled it?
Same. As you guys can, you should put your character sheets in the profile of your alias like I have. Makes it easy to reference stats for both the player and the GM.
As far as a background, I picture having served one side or another in the mentioned civil war, but then have been betrayed and cast out. He is plotting revenge against the people he once served. Details, I need your aid on. And I'd prefer to be aligned with the parties allegiances, should they be strongly sided to one or the other. Hindrances: Vengeful (Major), Loyal, Cautious.
Brandon here. My character is a Reaper of Eostre Animalmother. Gonna play him sort of like a Ranger in DnD...archer, pet, can enter melee if necessary, cast buff spells to enhance his own abilities, or aid his allies with them.
*raises shirt, reveals nipples to Chip*
This is Thron's character creation for this shindig. Haven't developed a backstory for him yet, as I'm waiting on some details as to where we will be first. |