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| A Tale to Tell; Tower plot | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 3 2009, 06:39 AM (213 Views) | |
| Serge | Nov 3 2009, 06:39 AM Post #1 |
King of Beasts
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Thasos has journeyed well, but there was one place in all of Avalon that made him wonder… what is this place you ask? A simple question to be answered quite easily actually, Gramarye. An island that in itself was much like his homeland Woari filled with countless horrors and strong creatures and stronger men. It was something that drew him, and true enough although he was no native of these lands he felt at home… Peril that he has only faced inside his homeland a place he figured where death and blood was the norm, he found here… and it was here that he sought adventure. Now all that was left was for the Hellraiser to find what called him… which were battle and blood, treasure and challenge. The youth found himself in the hamlet of Veiden, with mountains to her back and the haze covered wilderness to her front. Those that stayed here in his opinion were hardened, strong… and knowledgeable of these parts. And it was here, that in this Tavern Thasos stayed, gathering information on all sorts of things, anything and everything he kept an ear open to for the sake of making his journey an exciting one. Yes. This youth was the type that would go into the den of the tiger just to awaken it, insult the dragon just to slay it, and provoke the kingdom just to conquer it. But this latest challenge, or at least the one he has set himself up for was one on a whole different scale… and something the youth thought would put his generation on the map for sure. Away from the Shadow of Emperor Sujin and the might his rule brought Dian di Vakati. There was a place he has asked about repeatedly, slowly of course gathering information on it. What was it? A place known simply as “The Tower” it was a place of great evil some said… others said it was a place of great good. The stories that surrounded it were so muddled and mixed up that it would be hard for any to get facts on it. What was constant though, was tales of what was sealed within and what lie in wait on the road towards it. Fairies, creatures and adventures twisted by their ancient magic’s tales of these little beasties that wield magic to make even the most talented mage drool in awe. Tales of men and women alike torn to shreds by elemental behemoths, mist monsters, and sometimes… even themselves. Yes, Mimics, Doppelgangers and shadows that turn ones allies against each other. Within the tower itself, beasts of myth and legend, beasts that belong not on the mortal plane but the highest realms of the celestial realm and the deepest and darkest abyss, all the while the thing that stands at the top of the tower the chains that bind it rattling so loud one can hear them hours away from the place itself. This creature, placed in this tower by the old gods themselves, sealed for reasons unknown reigns supreme over every creature within the tower itself. Oh, Goosebumps did the stories give Thasos, and for no other reason than because he couldn’t help wanting to face the horrors that would await him on this journey. The Savage in him thirsted for such mythic challenges, and the man in him hungered for the prospect of fame. “Aye Laddie! They say though, that neither man nor manner of beasty has been inside that tower since times of old. Sealed up good by the old ones, and no mage, not even the blasted fairies in the region command the kinda magic to break it. If ya fool enough ta try climbing it, gonna need a few divine friends ya?” An old man, his beared soaked with mead and chunks of bread and meat. Thasos sat on the opposite end of the table, keeping the drinks and food flowing for this old one. His face, heavily scarred… the manner in which he carried himself, walked, acted… told the boy that he was once a great warrior… hell he felt the old one was still handy with a blade. Age however… was what took this one down, not beast nor magic in his time… and truth be told, it was something Thasos respected yet wished to avoid. He wanted not to grow old himself, but to die in battle. “I see old one. Come, drink and eat more, you’ve earned it with this tale you’ve spun for me this eve. Is there anything else? Any clues on what deities I should hunt down to aid me in my curiosity?” Thasos asked, waving one of many barmaids in this bustling tavern, full of knights and guards from the fort just a little ways from the settlement. He wished to know more of this tower, and how to gain access to it, and no matter how much drink he had to fill this seasoned warrior with to get it… he would. |
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| Zekiel | Nov 3 2009, 01:33 PM Post #2 |
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Sinisterly Cynical
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Zekiel was large by normal standards, his height as strange as his long hair, but not quite as strange as the way it only grew in one place, or the way his eye sockets seemed to be empty besides a dark smoke. He entered this tavern for no other reason than to sit down, pretend to drink, and eat enough to fill himself up. He looked menacing as he strut into the room, calmly, cleanly, and those who weren't interested in the old mans tale turned towards him. He sat down at an occupied table quietly, those sitting there offered rude comments that only made the lips of the large fellow twitch as if it was trying to smile. These men were indeed hardened, but they took one look at him and wanted very little to do with him, offering only those remarks to him proved that if he pushed it, he would have a fight on his hands. Okay, okay, not that Zekiel wasn't fond of a fight every now and then, he REALLY didn't want to start now. He had JUST got done making his way here through a beast infested forest with his hide, and he didn't want to change that much of it. He had no doubt that any five or six of these men, armed, could over power him in his seating placement. He hadn't really had a sense of direction, he never did, what did it matter anyway? He always thought (after he had left the very dangerous forest or the very dangerous haunted ruins) that if one had a sense of direction, then they had a place to be. Since he was never called (or wanted) anywhere, he never had much purpose. This all suited him just fine because, really, who needed a schedule? Deadlines and such, he couldn't meet them even if he lived to be a thousand. Oh... That was four years ago, yep, no deadlines met so far. He was very pleased with himself at that moment, that he managed to keep up with his birthdays was amazing even to him. Though, he could be wrong, he thought.... Nah. Some man appeared to be telling a story, and so the observant Zekiel (or so he felt), turned to face the elderly gentleman doing the talking. In doing so, his eyes were greeted with quite the fellow. He wasn't quite as tall as Zekiel, but he more than made up for that with his well toned muscles. The Undead man wished he could still exercise and gain muscles that way, but truth be told, his strength was constant, and would always be. He held a few magical items to his person, sure, but they were all buried about a mile outside of the town. (He felt very confident about the location of his things, but he didn't want to have them taken away in case he was arrested, so he hid them in the wilderness under a rock in a cave... Skipping the explanation on how exactly one hides so many things under one rock, one could say they are hidden. Though, one can also assume that when Zekiel says 'it's so obvious they'll never think to check there' he means the pebbles strewn on top of his valuables.) Anyway, to say the very least, he was interested in the topic of conversation this big fellow and this intriguing old man were having. He made no attempts at discretion that he was listening, in fact, he pushed his chair with his feet until he was sitting right next to the big fellow. He didn't say a word as he leaned in intently, half tempted to start babbling about a story to get some food also. He felt he should say something so, so he leaned towards the big man a little. "Hullo good sir, my name is Zekiel." His voice lacked the menace that it seemed it should have. Though it was slightly cold, slightly hollow, it was friendly. |
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| Sul'arai | Nov 4 2009, 12:41 AM Post #3 |
Embodiment of Otherworldly Wrath
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It was a good day to be a Pillar of Creation. As Sul'arai walked down the streets of Veiden, no one would have known that the small girl in ornate robes looking purposefully for something was actually an immortal. For that matter, Sul'arai herself wouldn't have known that. Or rather, she didn't know that. Yet. She had been searching for her father deep in the wilds of Gramarye to no avail. She could have sworn she sensed his aura around here somewhere, but then again, he did have a habit of leaving false trails. As a girl after her father's heart, she had heard some whispered tales of a mysterious Tower, apparently containing something even more mysterious. Exactly what, no one knew. She dodged an ox-drawn cart carrying heavy lumber down the broad street and ducked into the first tavern she saw. It was a typical place, as far as taverns went. She was about to leave when she sensed some trace magical auras emanating from a small knot of men in a corner. Inquisitively, she wove herself in and out of the bustle of the servers and the patrons to get nearer to them. Then she heard the word 'Deity'. That, and the fact that one man seemingly appeared to think he would need to hunt them down, made her instantly even more curious than she had been. "Excuse me, sirs, but I heard whispers around town that a certain old warrior might still hold information on a certain Tower? I sincerely hope I'm at the right place?" she bluffed somewhat as she attempted to look older, not to mention more mysterious, than she was. Not that she was very good at it, mind you. |
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| Sidarthas Monotheril | Nov 4 2009, 02:16 AM Post #4 |
Bringer of Your Judgement
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Gramarye had never really been Sid's favorite place to be. The last time he'd been here, he'd fought a deathknight in the great mountains who fled into the underground city of orcs underneath the Yseulte. Why he was here now, well, it was the craving for adventure. Sid had spent several years of his life wandering across the great continent of Avalon, mounted atop his great black dragon, and fighting against evil where ever he found it, purging it where he could and aiding those who could when he couldn't. Gramarye was a place that tantalized Sidarthas Monotheril's old sense of wonder and adventure, which had admittedly gone a bit stale since his revival from death some years ago. So here the Paladin was, in a nice little tavern in the hamlet of Veiden enjoying a rather sweet mead brew. There was a bit too much honey in the drink, and so Sid had been rather discontent as he feasted upon a rather delicious meal of a cornish hen and a good amount boiled carrots and peas to even out vegetable intake, his holy blade Chrysamere leaned against the bar at Sid's side. But something had intrigued the feasting Paladin, a fascinating tale of sorcery and mysticism revolving around the great Tower that sat in the middle of Gramarye's wilderness. Sid had heard quite a few tales about this great construct. When Gramarye was discovered, this was the destination of many adventurers and potential treasure hunters, whose bones now littered the ground around this tower. It quickly became known as a place of death, where only fools dared to try and tame the great magics that sealed the tower shut. This story, told by the old man to the intimidating warrior seated next to him. Sid, though rather renowned as a warrior, had taken to keeping his profile low, as the attention bugged the solitude-seeking young man. An unorthodox warrior and a woman, whom Sid could sense much more power within than she let on, quickly made their presence known and introduced themselves to the youthful warrior and older man. Sid, however, was content to not interrupt the storyteller and simply sit and enjoy his meal, waiting until the story was definitively over before he would sit up and introduce himself to the adventurers with the intent to join their little quest. Edited by Sidarthas Monotheril, Nov 4 2009, 03:15 PM.
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| Serge | Nov 8 2009, 11:34 AM Post #5 |
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King of Beasts
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The story was a great one, full of twists and turns, magic and beasts, women and romance. Exactly what one would expect from the grizzled warrior who survived his youth tormented with the loss of blood… both his own and that of his enemies. Thasos was enthralled, completely and utterly taken in by the old mans voice, his stories the minds eye of the young Hellraiser open wide as he visualized himself in that mans place. Though no slouch in a fight, capable of great bloodshed and greater cruelty, Thasos was still and will always be a boy… hidden beneath the shroud and helm was a face alight with joy. However, his face though twisted in a childish glee, his air his aura changed not. Still on the outside to all those looking on the outside in, the boy still looked every bit as capable as any of the rougher looking sort that had gathered for this tale spun by a veteran the locals had obviously respected. A chair, and with it an unknown face had appeared just to his side, he spoke moments after. His name, and at first Thasos was slightly taken back by it… though by the way everyone else had looked at him, he seemed to be an outsider like himself. Perhaps… to get to know someone who too walks the same path he does. Well… no harm in telling him his name, as he took a break for a split second from the story, the man felt odd… different. “Thasos” he answered quietly as he went back to the story. “Suddenly I was lookin at mah self! Dammed fairies and they magic, dun turned inta me n copied ma abilities. Tough fight that, knew all my attacks, all mah weaknesses, so powerful almost lost my life to that little bug. If I hadden had that ol mage pal uh mine with me, midda died in that place, Ah thank Kioku erry day for letten me live” The old man continued, taking a break only to take a bite of the lamb leg and a thick swig from his tankard. Before he could start again, a young woman, a girl probably not a day older than 12 appeared, speaking like a grown up with her chest all puffed out. Thasos turned and eyed her for a moment, his nose twitched… she wasn’t normal, no average human. The smell of magic surrounded her, thick. “Aye lassie, tellin tha story bout when I tried ta get there in my youth with a couple of me buddies. Dunno whatcha on about, sides the hell a girl like you doin in a tavern like dis? Run along little lady, no place fa a girl ya age.” The old man spoke, brushing his beard free of any stray hunks of meat, glossing over slightly with mead and ale. |
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| Sul'arai | Nov 8 2009, 12:20 PM Post #6 |
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Embodiment of Otherworldly Wrath
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Sul'arai blinked, rebuffed by the older man. "Listen, mister, I'll have you know that that Tower is fairly essential in my search for my father. For all I know, he may have found a way in already. And if he hasn't, I intend on letting him in. Sorry, sir, but I won't be dismissed that easily. I'll have you know I can handle myself in a fight just fine." she placed a hand on her hip as she grabbed a nearby chair and slung it around to the table where Thasos and the old man were sitting. Sitting in the chair, she barely came up to the table's level, but that didn't stop her from ordering a mug of ale and downing it in one gulp, apparantly immune to the effects of alcohol, though she looked so young. To be honest, the penchant for casual drinking like this came from her father, who was immune to the power of the brew here in Avalon, and merely drank for fun while suffering no ill effects. Turning to the warrior, she smiled and put out her hand. "Hi there, Thasos. My name is Sul'arai syr Reignas, but it's faster if you just call me Sula. I hope our searches for this Tower don't have to be all by ourselves, you know. Why don't we form an alliance? I can handle the magical bits, so long as you take care of the fighting of the monsters thingy. What d'ya say?"[R4E]The Sujin Hath Commanded It.[/R4E] Edited by Sul'arai, Nov 9 2009, 02:47 PM.
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| Zekiel | Nov 8 2009, 01:19 PM Post #7 |
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Sinisterly Cynical
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Before the old man could go on, before the young man could tell him his name, they were rudely interrupted. A little girl, it seemed, had stumbled into the wrong building and was going about interrupting adult conversations. He didn't bother addressing it though, figuring either one of the humans near him could tell her. It wasn't his style to judge, for all he knew, she could be some kind of sorceress. After all, the little girl did carry a scythe similar to the one he had left with his horse and other things out in the wilderness somewhere. Somewhere... Oh, that was bad, he hoped he remembered where before it came time to leave. He was no longer paying attention to the little girl, or either of the men, but he looked passed the girl to the man sitting down. He flicked his gaze to those in the room, then to that man, then to the three who were directly nearby, the girl, and the two warriors, one old and the other young. An old war veteran, okay, a young warrior out in search of adventure, okay, a little girl, perhaps more than she seemed, interrupting a drunk old man trying to tell what might be a very intriguing story if he could get around to finishing it (or telling it in the correct order...) and last, but not least, that man at the bar facing them, watching them as he ate, with an obviously more-than-steel sword leaning up against the table. Compared to them, he didn't feel so tough anymore, more their equal, despite the fact that all here were younger than he, and nearly all were human, with the exception of some dwarfs talking amongst themselves in the corners, and, again, possibly the little girl. “Odd crowd, Thasos.” Was Zekiel's response to the name, a whisper that would only be heard as a rustle of clothes by the others, but would be distinct to the man. Just then, the old man brought the little girl to attention, and while that alone amused the dead man, what amused him more was that she actually wanted to follow the warrior next to him on whatever quest he planned to be going on. He looked at the big man, and shook his head, staying silent as he normally was when there was more than one person about, it wasn't so much that he was shy, but used to the silence in his travels, or, at least the lack of conversation. He doubted Thasos would consider holding her hand and leading her to the tower, but that seemed irrelevant. Zekiel didn't really plan on going either, and if he did, it was just to watch him get himself into trouble so that Zeke could claim he had saved the big fellow from certain peril. Edited by Zekiel, Nov 12 2009, 01:28 PM.
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| Sidarthas Monotheril | Nov 8 2009, 08:31 PM Post #8 |
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Bringer of Your Judgement
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An intriguing tale, to say the least, had reached Sid's ears, talking of the adventure the grizzled old codger had in the Tower, which ended up with him nearly suffering death at the hands of a mimic. Sid had heard many great stories in his time, that was for sure. Many of them spun by the tale-singers of Elune, elves who spent their whole time writing and rewriting epic tales. This art took centuries and even millenia to truly master, but there were always exceptional Humans who had this talent in spades. Sid smiled a small smile as he continued to listen, eating vigorously at his meal as this fine tale was spun by the aged man. But, it seemed, he was interrupted by a rather brash and impatient little girl who was seemingly brushed off. She retaliated by giving the warrior quite a tongue-lashing before sitting down and downing a full tankard of ale in one gulp. She definitely was more powerful than she was letting on, giving off the air of a magic-infused force to be reckoned with. However, Sid was never one to be impressed with theatrics, so he smirked before finishing off his last drumstick of chicken and downing one more swig of fine ale. Slamming his mug down on the bar to draw the attention to him, Sid lightly wiped his face clean before picking Chrysamere up and seating himself across from Thasos, the girl, the rather bemused observer, and the old man. "Quite the tale, old one", complimented Sid as he contemplated the young warrior and the older warrior, as well as the other fighter that also seemed to be rather disproving of the girl's antics, "There are few who haven't heard of me, but I feel a round of introductions are in order. I am Sidarthas, Sid for short. I must say you can spin a yarn that would make many immortal elves I know green with envy at your abilities. So tell me, old one, just how did you and your little band escape from the Tower with such vile beings seeking your death?" Edited by Sidarthas Monotheril, Nov 12 2009, 03:49 PM.
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| Serge | Nov 13 2009, 07:53 AM Post #9 |
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King of Beasts
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What. The. Hell. Why was it that any time Thasos was about to do something, had something in mind or even wanted to know about something… it attracted strangers and crazy folk. A Stalker Vampiress, some werewolf obsessed with his blade, and an Ogre that insists on him being his kin. And now… well he had some half baked daddies girl with more power then she knew what to do with, some guy that’s suppose to be famous who’s name he never heard, and the only semi normal guy was the not so normal guy sitting next to him, Zekiel was it. Within, beneath the mask and shroud Thasos sighed, truly hoping for a good meal and a good story, and hopefully a road to travel for the goal he had laid before him. But no, crazies all around! But apparently the old one didn’t mind, or rather was happy tell his tale to faces fresh and new to these savage lands in which he grew up in and would eventually die in. Though… Thasos was taken aback by this girl’s boldness… to just casually call his name and purposed an alliance? For what! He knew not this girl! He was here for a tale, and knew well that it couldn’t be so easy to just get inside the tower, and before the youth opened his mouth, his head turning allowing the girl a small glimpse into his Shroud the golden eyes shining. “Eh? Escape tha tower? Hahaha! Laddie ya think too much uh me n mah pals. Diddnt even get in, got rii to the gates n they was sealed wit the most powerful magic muh eyes eva laid eyes on. Hadda escape quick fast, dammed mimics kept coming, n they little elemental pets. Eva seen a corrupted Earth Elemental? Giant buggers with breath that smell like sodding ogre piss.” That answer however, had taken his focus one again from everyone around him and back to the old man. He… never got into the tower? You mean to tell me that the hell he was subjected to, him and his party was just the prelude to what was to come? The tower, sealed with magic and around it unnatural guardians with a command of magic that even gods could envy. Just who… or what was sealed within that Tower? Who was it that the old ones locked away never to see the rising sun again? The beasts within, battling for supremacy… the thought of what rested behind those doors made Thasos shiver. He, a warrior of the Gatekeeper clan, the Hellraiser himself… scared? Or was it excitement? The boy was unsure, he… knew not which. “Then old one, Have you ever heard or found a way into the tower? Past the seal set by the forgotten gods?” Thasos asked, as he leaned back into his chair, trying hard as he might to ignore the many presences that seemed to gather this day. The old man looked up from his meal and spoke again, “Nope, dunno anybody that do etha. Though mah buddie… the mage? Yea he lives on uh sista island next doe at the castle wit all dem otha chanters. Could start there I guess?” He grunted, turning back to his meal. Thasos sat forward, and crossed his arms… so he’d have to travel? Great. Hopefully he could loose the unwanted company on the way. |
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| Zekiel | Nov 16 2009, 04:21 AM Post #10 |
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Sinisterly Cynical
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He set his gaze back on the blonde warrior and he very nearly laughed at the speech about elves. Green with envy? Elves were a boring lot, they lived a long time but they rarely did anything with it. Humans, such as the large man next to him, did more, because their lives were like a forest fire whereas elves were like the forest. The capacity to destroy was more prominent with humans than in elves, but after their lives are finished, things flourish. There wasn't a human out there who didn't destroy, either, so he found the analogy proper. He himself, he thought, lived such a life, but his fires were more enduring. The left side of his mouth twitched as if it would smile unbidden under his hood. He leaned back in his chair, making himself appear shorter, so as to draw less attention. He wanted to see where this was going without drawing too much to himself. However, the old mans answer to escaping the tower intrigued him. Never got in? As was, mimics sounded like the fun sort. He would be able to shake his own hand it seemed like. What a story it would be to go into the tower! He enjoyed telling story to the very few who asked him to, and he had many, often embellished, to tell. “He does seem the talkative sort.” He muttered about the old man. Everything he had said thus far had been to Thasos, sounding like mere mumbling to everyone else, because no one else really interested him. Not even the little girl with the scythe on her back. He had seen many creatures of magic, but to this day, humans were the ones who could raise his brow the most. They were each different, if similar in most ways, but like the old man and Thasos, they lived lives that were interesting to hear. The dead man was about to mention that he had specifically said he had never got into the tower, and that the old man was just a warrior after all, by all appearances. Zeke wondered briefly if his sword could break the seal, but then dismissed it. The magics on his weapon didn't hold a candle to the power of the gods, the true gods, anyway. The common gods now, such as Kioku, are imperfect and weak, he imagined that there was one time where there were gods who could raise mountains with a wrist twirl. Where had they gone, then? He shook his head. It seemed the story was at an end, however, as the man gave Thasos the information he most specifically wanted. Where to go. Ezekiel had nothing better to do, he could at least watch the human die. There was the matter of his things though. He wondered – briefly – if the human would wait, and doubted it. But perhaps they would go that way anyway? He lowered his hood to reveal his shadowy eye sockets and the long tail of hair that was the only hair on his head, somehow, his facial expression looked at the man hopefully. “Let's leave the kiddo behind, pick up my things, and talk to this wizard, if nothing else he might be able to renew the spell keeping me alive, after all.” He said, smirking. None were alive who could, and his time was not quite unlimited. |
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| Sul'arai | Nov 16 2009, 08:43 AM Post #11 |
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Embodiment of Otherworldly Wrath
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Sul'arai listened with interest, trying to play off being snubbed, once again by those bigger than her. For the first time, she realized the disadvantages of being so small. Blinking rather cluelessly at the pointy-eared fellow, she considered telling him that no one probably had any idea who the hell this self-important pop diva thought he was. Then she saw the young man in the mask's strange eyes. Her own dark eyes widened, making them seem even more disproportionately large on her face than usual. She was fascinated by the man's eyes, and considered following him around and bringing him to her father for study, but the old man once again drew their attention. "Chanters, eh?.....Hrm....my Daddy said that Fincayra was an island with a prestigious collection of magic users....that sounds about right.....I'd better get the jump on these guys, or else I'll never get in to the Tower first!" she murmured to herself, before sliding off the chair and giving a small curtsy. "Excuse me, guys. I'm going to go ahead and meet that mage-buddy of yours, okay? See ya later!" she said brightly as she turned and began to sprint out the door. She needed to find a ship, and fast. Her still-childlike mind had gotten the idea stuck that this was some sort of treasure hunt, and a race to the finish line, that was, the Tower. And her father's competitive streak demanded that she be the first to cross that finish line. |
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| Sidarthas Monotheril | Nov 16 2009, 07:06 PM Post #12 |
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Bringer of Your Judgement
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Sid smirked to himself as he withdrew his mental probe from the small girl's mind. Indeed, she was definitely more powerful than she let on, but then again that wasn't saying much. Perhaps she had loads of latent power within her small body, but Sid didn't sense too much of a threat from the little pretentious girl. But it was her inner makeup that intrigued Sidarthas the most: so was a My'thyrian, a race of people that Sid had only recently come into contact with when he dueled and defeated a member of that race on the Isle of Mist in Southern Avalon. Andumi, the shadow creature he had fought, had put Sid through one hell of a battle, and his genetic makeup was the same as this girl's, though there was several differences, which meant she was probably a member of a sub-geneous group of their common race. He could tell from her mind that she thought of him as some arrogant fool, displaying her scolding of him on the very outer layer of her mind like the armour Sid wore on his body. But when that subsided, he sensed within her a drive to beat this little group of travelers to the Tower and claim all of the riches inside for herself. With that, she rose, graciously bowed, and excused herself from their presence. Sid shifted his attention away from her and back to the grizzled old veteran, who'd answered his earlier question. It was interesting how he'd never gotten into the Tower, but had somehow encountered the worst horrors from within. Or maybe they weren't the worst to come from that destination. Perhaps they were but a taste. Sid shivered as he thought about fighting only one copy of himself in battle, much less multiple copies of himself. If they found some way of copying his swords and merging them to form Blades....then Sid would probably meet the final end that had seemed to be hounding him since his resurrection. Quietly, the Paladin contemplated this.... "Tell me, old one", asked Sid in a very small voice, "how were you able to escape from those horrors you fought at the Tower?" |
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| Serge | Nov 18 2009, 09:47 AM Post #13 |
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King of Beasts
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Such things were beyond him. Thasos has faced many things that would cause the blood of men to freeze and curdle. He was no immortal, but more than just a few times has he faced down the shadow of death. Yes, this would be a challenge indeed and something he would enjoy doing… even if he were to become nothing more than a cold corpse because of it. Glory. Yes, it was that which drove him treasures and fame among those that were not of his clan mattered not. No, all Thasos wished for was to return to Woari a man, and with tales to tell his family and friends, his people… and maybe just maybe stand tall enough to be free of the shadow the previous generation has cast upon them. To live with their own might and honor, to write a new chapter in the history of Dian… not live within the old one. He… was truly blind and dumb to all those around him, mostly for the fact that he wished not to interfere with them just as he wished for them not to do the same. The youth wished only to find this mage he spoke up and hopefully to find a way into the tower. Overconfidence perhaps but he knew not what he would be capable of doing until he met face to face with the beasts he would be cutting down. The boy had confidence in his blade skill, and the prospect of fighting himself was something he could not just pass up. Was it the Dian mentality that drove him? Maybe, but in the end, his faith in himself would be ether the death of him, or his greatest triumph. Daydreaming the youth was, only to be snapped free of his delusions of fighting ferociously to the bloody conclusion against himself. The man, the one that was sitting next to him spoke. His mind stopped wandering as he turned to focus on the attempted conversation. Leave the girl behind and head for the isle the two of them? The youth shrugged, truthfully he didn’t plan on taking anyone along with him to begin with. Why? Because if he were to face these mimics, it would be best if he himself was alone for he was the only person that knew well his capabilities. And if he had to bring someone or anyone along, he’d rather it be clan mates, his brothers and sisters. “I’ve no real desire to travel with someone I know nothing of.” Thasos answered the dead ones statement bluntly. Who was to say this one wouldn’t attempt to cut him down on the road? True he doubt anyone was stupid enough to pick one such as himself for a target… but you never knew. The girl left moments after, as the half elf famous one again asked the old man a question. Similar to the last, but at least this one made sense. “Hah! I ran, me and muh buddy took off like tha damned wind, like someone set ah fire n muh trousers! Dunno how long we ran… do know that afta we got far away I was ready tah call it quits just fall on muh blade right then, gladly fell on muh buddy instead.” He laughed, within his voice one could tell he was disappointed, maybe even disgraced at the fact that he ran. But over the years, it seemed as if he had come to grips with it, knew well his limits and knew that tower and the creatures around it were far beyond them. Wisdom did his age bring, and it was this wisdom he would share with those around the table. “Lemme warn ya laddies, dun go there. Dun do it, ya young find somewhere else tah adventure. A wench to bed and mead to drink! Tha tower ant fo us mortals… we of flesh and blood don’t belong. That’s the last thing this ol man has to say. If ya go… best say by to ya ol lady… cause I dunno if you’ll return. Strength and courage!” The old man yawned, stood from the table and almost instantly disappeared into the crowed of the tavern, his voice could be heard every now and then playful banter at some of the tavern wenches. Thasos sighed, and again leaned back in his chair, cross his arms. He knew already the answer. The youth would go, and if he fell he would fall gloriously. However, what lie before him was more than what he planned… he would need to find these mages and learn more about the enemies he would face soon. Only a fool fights blind. |
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| Zekiel | Nov 18 2009, 12:09 PM Post #14 |
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Sinisterly Cynical
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Zekiel gave Thasos a less than pleased look, the undead equivalent of a pout, but then decided to reason with him. “You know, of course, that if you go alone and even only one mimic attacks you, you will be evenly matched. You'll run each other through with your swords and where is the glory in dying because you were so foolish you walked into it knowing it serves no purpose? There's no treasure, no sated curiosity, nothing to best if the first thing you come across is a mimic who can kill you just as easily as you can kill them.” He shook his head. “Seems to be the smart thing to do would be to bring in weaker people for the mimics to copy so that you can strike them down easier. Just me.” He mentioned, playing every card of logic he could. “Besides, if I told you everything about me, wouldn't it be dull? No mystery in that. Besides, a warrior like you would put up too much of a fight for little old me. My name is Zekiel, I am old and dead. I have a horse, too, and other things. Lets go?” He asked, looking around the room at all off the dull looking people. In truth, he had no intention of following him far. It just seemed better to follow the big warrior until they were out of this dangerous region, or maybe even to the mage. Perhaps something in that tower could renew the spell placed on him. That was an interesting thought. He shifted around in his seat and looked forward. The old man said something, and he really wasn't listening at that point, the story about the tower having dragged itself on long enough as was. He looked at Thasos again and his brow raised. “Additionally, say you got into the tower after surviving the mimics... Say you died once you got in... You would be little more than bones for travelers to step over now that you opened the tower.” He said, preying on a value for life that human kind seemed to have as a whole. The large man didn't really have any choice in whether or not he went. Humans, no matter how magically blessed with endurance, could not go farther than a horse on foot, or even him on foot. The big man could attack him, but he would need to sleep eventually, and Zekiel didn't really need to (though he did on occasion just to feel more normal.) He didn't raise this point, because it would come off as more of a threat, but he turned his head to the table with the men who had cursed at him, his eyes narrowing only slightly. He didn't attempt to try to raise another point, figuring he would either consent or not. It was irrelevant, he smirked a little bit and murmured to him, as if the matter was already settled that he was going. “The half elf seems a bit interested, I reckon he's the holy type. He'd probably be good hired help if we wanted someone to carry our supplies.” He laughed a little, pleased with the idea of having such a noble appearing man carrying his things. Famine carried enough on her back as was, she didn't need any more weight. Between weapons and armor and his weight, she had all she could carry no matter how big she was. Well, that wasn't true, she was going strong, a dark steed, a nightmare without wings, she was strong, could probably carry a wagon laden with steel on her own. Okay, maybe an exaggeration, but one could get the point. Following or going with, he was along for the ride – and that was all he really saw it as. |
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| Serge | Nov 23 2009, 06:25 AM Post #15 |
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King of Beasts
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(And so we skip Sid... just you and me Exodus) Ah, this one was confused... lost almost perhaps? Too busy trying to think he understood Thasos or too lazy or pompous to even care to understand him. The youth had no idiotic thoughts of going it alone towards the tower and possibly climbing it. Oh no, that would be something a fool who had no experience with creatures fowl and powerful would attempt. He, was a youth from Woari, the hidden valley within Cloudsweeps that housed many creatures large and small and each stronger than the last. If he were to go alone to research this place to the isle which housed most of the worlds magicians then he would eventually find himself back at home, with a legion at his back to siege this place if he so wished it. That... however would defeat the purpose of he himself returning after his rite to become something grand and honored. He rambled, speaking rather. Telling him things he already knew and already. But this wasn't the problem, he cared not for the background and history of the man that sat before him. It was his past and his alone. What however did matter was that if Thasos could trust his back to him, and for a warrior such as he, that would be all he needs to fight alongside someone. TO know full well that he will defend his back to the best of his abilities, and in return... the youth would do the same. It was his code of Honor, the thing that drove all Dian warriors, and the thing that made them a cut above the rest, normal humans, and other barbaric tribes and clans. They had honor and that honor was one of the 4 pillars that kept their ideals afloat. Strength, Honor, Loyalty, and Courage for four things that drove these men and women to do great things. “I care not for your history and past. I Don't care who you are or who you were. What I do care about is that if you have honor, if you have courage and if you can be loyal. I trust my back to no stranger, no warrior, mage, or housewife who has no notion to defend it. That is what I wish to know dead one. Can I trust my back to you?” Thasos asked bluntly, turning fully to face him, his focus boring holes into the face of the odd man next to him. The holy warrior, was forgotten lost, as if he had gotten up and disappeared into the crowed because his question was not answered. And truth be told that was just fine with him, those that beseech gods for their might are weak in his opinion. “Well? What say you? If not then begone from my sight, I've plenty of brothers and sisters that would gladly watch my back as I would theirs.” The large boy turned again only to stand moments later. He would leave this place, and the simple answer to his question would be if this dead one followed or not. Words would not be enough to trust him, no... he would have to believe that his back would be guarded, that he could advance without worry for the blade that was behind him threatened not his own flesh. |
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9:44 PM Mar 20
