The Curse of Calamus

[Quiet_Cool]

Rules:

1. This thread is by "invitation only." DONOT just jump in and post. If you want to join, PM me with a character profile and, if the others in the thread agree and the character is approved, and the story allows it, you will be included.
2. Check out the Profiles/rules thread for information before asking to join. Know the game before you get involved, make sure you're interested.
3. This thread is by "invitation only." DONOT just jump in and post.
4. No OOC posts are allowed on the basic thread, NONE. It slows the flow of the thread.
5. This thread is by "invitation only." DONOT just jump in and post.
6. DONOT assume that a character or type of character is the same as you've seen it in the past. Each notable character, meaning those being RPed and those who affect the plot otherwise, are profiled on the Profiles/rules thread, as are every type of enemy I post. Don't assume that an Orc or Goblin or Troll is what they have been in other games/books/movies and whatnot in the past.
7. NEVER, in any game, but specifically here, make decisions or impose actions on another player's character.
8. All OOC ideas and actions are to be conveyed by PM, not on either thread. Sorry if this is an inconvenience to anyone, but OOC posts tend to clutter up the thread, damaging fluency and continuity (as anyone on the X-men thread will testify to).
9. I reserve the right to add or delete any rules and make any changes, just wanted to toss that out there, just in case we need to change things...

Okay, let's get this show on the road...

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Intro... (The Old Man at the Bar)

Hello, friend.
Nice of you to join me.
Sit down, have a drink.
Who am I? Well, I'm not of any consequence. Just a man sitting here, having a drink, looking for some friendly conversation.
And you?
Oh? Looking for adventure you say? Well, I do believe you've come to the right place. I'm somewhat familiar with adventure. In fact, I may have just the story you've been waiting to hear.
What's that you say? Is the story true? Well, it's not my place to say, but I should guess it is, as I've heard many versions not unlike that which I'm about to tell you. But first, a little background-let me know if you've heard any of this before. There was once a man named Calamus, also called Calamus the foul and more often Calamus the cruel. He was a large man, the leader of a large army of men not quite so cruel, but still devilish and voluntary in their evil deeds. Rumor was that Calamus, a man of unknown origin, had rode right out of hell itself, bringing with it all the pain and suffering that resided there and intending to visit that suffering upon the world as he'd lived and breathed it beneath. That of course was just a rumor, though his actions were those of pure evil. From town to town he and his men rode, plundering and destroying those that had what he wanted, whatever that might be at any given moment. The people of the lands he tortured often rose up against him, afraid but not willing to live forever in fear of him, but were usually simply crushed.
As time pushed on and his army flourished, but from the riches he bore grew jealousy. His men turned on him, and two armies were borne of one. The battles that ensued were more vicious than any the world had ever known, or to this day has known, and in the end, the greed of his men destroyed all that his greed had accomplished. In the end, many lay dead, and among them lay Calamus. Rumors of his defeat and the destruction of his army brought men forth from every town and village to find and identify the body of the great and vile Calamus.
Discovering him dead, they tore his body into pieces, burying some small part of him in each town he'd destroyed as a reminder of what they'd survived. The people rejoiced thereafter, living happily without his tyranny, not knowing what waited in his wake. It seems that, unbeknown to them, Calamus had taken a lover. Not just any lover, but one of the highest significance. The witch Druselda, who at that time, headed the Witches council and was possibly the most powerful the world then knew. This news came from several of the men who'd survived the civil war between Calamus' men. But the news came far too late, as many were sent to retrieve the witch and she was not found. Nor ever heard from or seen for quite some years. Just as well, was the general consensus, as she was no longer of their concern, and life became one of happiness and joy once more.
What's that you ask? Yes, I'm getting to the point, but you might well consider getting more comfortable, and ordering a pitcher for us both, as the night will most certainly be a long one, though worth your time I assure you…
Where was I? Oh, yes!
The witch Druselda took to life in a cave beneath a great mountain, the name and location of which I will tell you later, and beneath the mountain, she gave birth to and raised her two twin sons, borne of Calamus' seed and evil as their father was. However, the son's on Druselda were not only evil men but the spawn of a great witch, which made them capable of using magic in ways mortal man could but dream.
While these things were unknown to those who lived in the world outside the mountain, other changes in the world were being noticed. For instances, many things were going amiss. The world they lived in was beginning to change. People, men and women alike, were becoming more and more violent, over things would never before have caused them to so much as frown. Stranger still, the days seemed to grow shorter and even in the light of midday in June, the sun's light grew weaker. Inspired by this new growing darkness, creatures, dark creatures that seldom came into the realm of the light were quickly growing more common in the areas surrounding the highly-populated and less populated towns alike, striking fear into the simple folk who lived in them.
As the sons of Calamus grew to adulthood, their power increased, and as it did, the condition of the world steadily worsened, until the days were two hours shorter than before and the countryside was often plagued with vicious storms and attacks from these dark creatures had forced many to move, hoping to find safer grounds in which to live. No safer grounds existed, however.
So this brought about the great meeting of the Wizard's council, where the possibilities of what was occurring were brought to light and studied. One among them, the most agreed upon, was that the witch still lived, and had somehow grown stronger and had brought these evil onto the land. At this same council, it was decided that the great wizard Pennindar should gather together a band of adventurers to set forth and find the source of this great dilemma and put a stop to it.
What's that you ask? Why didn't he just cast a spell and put things back to normal? Excellent question, however, nowadays, as the world has moved beyond magic's use, we know very little of the ways of magic. Most magicians knew very few spells, and often rarely used them. Truth be told, only those on the council were truly great, and often even their magic helped things little. Those on quests and adventures such as the one Pennindar and his companions went on were rarely helped by magic. In fact, what made Pennindar so great a wizard was more his cunning, and his intelligence, and his skill with a sword and mace and axe.
A true adventurer he was, and good friends did he make with those he took along with him. For there lay the real adventure…

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Pennindar at the Inn

Pennindar sat at the window, looking out at the rain as it pelted at the ground outside the inn. They were coming, he could feel that, though they didn't yet know they were coming to meet up with him. It was 'ka' or fate that brought them, though he'd never believed in such things. Yet and still he felt them nearing, unaware of what they were about to get themselves into, and he knew their names…
Kyleen the warrior; Sebulba the giant; Nathan the warrior; and Richard the thief.
There would be others, yes. He felt that both deep within him and on the surface. But these would be their beginnings.
Odd creatures, he thought, all of them, but they would do. If for no other reason than because they had to. He sipped the cider in his mug and watched as the sun crept into the middle of the sky, wondering, will they make it before darkness falls. These parts had become well known for their nightly prowlings, various creatures, shy of the light, would attack the townsfolk in the darkness after dusk. If they were out in the wilderness, who knows what fate may come upon them.
Still Pennindar sat and sipped and thought, and waited.
The small village was well out of the way of most of the world's traffic. Here, in Boule's Den, the people were meek, not expecting the adventurers they were about to receive. They were farmers and ranchers, though the crops and livestock were being greatly plundered as of late. Come nightfall, Boule's Den would be empty, the people having returned to their ancient stone houses in the hills, closed up as tightly as possible in hopes of keeping their evil visitors safely outside. The actual town consisted of five buildings. One, a pub; one, the inn; one, the town store; one, the mayor's house (though the mayor mostly drank and did nothing much to help his townsfolk); and the last the post office, though letters seldom traveled though towns of this size.
He sat and sipped, waiting, thinking, when they arrive, then our journey will begin…

 

[Firesprite]

Kyleen SwordsWorthy - Warrior

Her cloak was beginning to smell of old wet wool. And it itched. Probably had fleas. And it was muddy. And it was poor quality.
Under her breath she cursed the wretched rain that soaked through to the skin, the band of bandits that had beset her earlier that day and made off with her original cloak and her saddle bag with her food. She cursed the man she killed who had tried to steal her horse, and the man she killed for trying to steal her blade. Most of all she cursed the poverty that forced these folk to live as bandits and thieves. The cloak she wore now originally belonged to the bandits leader. She cursed the man who had tried to take her life, who she in turn had slain. This cloak was the best of the lot, but was more suitable for someones rag basket.

Sighing, she reached her hand down and stroked the length of her scabbarded blade, it hummed at her touch. Sharp, the sword of warriors, the sword of her bloodline, the sword that protected her spoke, and like his blade, his words were two edged.

"You mutter like a mad woman," he said, "You've almost ridden right by the inn, get out of the rain before you start smelling like a dying cow, and I tarnish like a common sword. Maybe someone will take pity on you and put you out of your misery."

Instantly alert Kyleen took a proper look at her surroundings. She'd been drifting along looking for something interesting to come up for weeks now. Disappointment filled her. A tiny town like all the others she'd been through. Huddled in on itself in fear of the night creatures. Her horses hooves made sucking and splashing sounds at each step along the muddy street.

Seeing the sign creaking in the light wind that marked the inn, she rode her horse to the side, into the stable she'd spotted and tied him out of the rain. Taking off Oak's saddle, saddlebags and covering him with the smelly cloak, she led him to an empty stall. Quickly seeing to the straw and water, she saw him settled before taking herself inside. She shrugged as she thought, in a small town like this, the owner of the inn would be only too happy to see more coins for the stall she was using. Picking up her gear, she strode quickly through the rain to the door.

A gust of wind blew the door out of her hand as she opened it, banging it hard on the wall, and stirring her long blonde hair about her face. With an irritated grunt, she tugged the door closed behind her and wiped the hair off of her face. Looking carefully at the inhabitants of the common room, she quickly decided they were not much of a threat - although the old man by the window struck a spark of interest in her. He seemed to be foreign to this region. Calling to the inkeep for ale, she dumped her gear on the ground beside a bench and seated herself so she could see the whole room.

Sharp seemed to chime against her leg, but the note drifted to the edge of hearing, and seemed to continue on far past the time she thought it should end.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard- The Thief

It was growing dark. A funny thing, that. Perhaps once it truly had been a sign of the time. Now it was a sign of the times. Amazing what difference one little letter could make. One mistake could change a lifetime. One pun, properly balanced, can give meaning to anything.

He was trekking along, his thick old boots were probably covered in mud. His body was hidden uner the black cloak. Added length in all the right places allowed him to be only a black mass in battles. If one must face an opponent face-to-face, it is always good to leave them guessing at what they are aiming for. His breath was ragged through the black scarf that wrapped around the bottom part of his face. Itr would be terrible trying to breathe were that wet. Luckily, his hat was collecting most of the rain. IT was a simple hat. It had started as a large circle of the material, he had no idead what it was. A smaller circle had been cut from the center, and a long rectangle brought around to sew to the hole and the smaller circle. It fit snuggly on his head, even after these long years.

The edges of the hat were frayed, with small bits missing, scratched and torn from its use. And now, the edges dipped low, forcing him to hold his head back to see where he was going. That was fine by him, the rain was falling at his back. His cloak was damp, hugging in a roughly human form around him. His thin gloves were deep under his cloak, keeping themselves from sight. Black was a marvelous thing. You could vanish in an instant into the shadows, so long as you could avoid the creatures that dwelt there.

His purse was light. The pouch he kept his coins in was nearly empty, perhaps a night at an Inn, a meal or two. He'd left his hometown because the pickings were slim. A large city, he'd had to leave because of his family. They'd raised him better than this. But these times allowed for few clerks and scribes. But he'd clung to his morals, not robbing from those who couldn't afford it-or could catch him. His finger played with the hilt of his Fang. a mere wrist flick away from ready, he listened to the sounds around him. He could see a light in the distance, make out the building it was coming from. He continued to trudge along through the rain.

He'd be there in a few minutes. Get a warm meal, a warm bed, and a poor night of sleep. He groaned at the thought. Perhaps the life of a loner wasn'to grand. Without someone to watch his back, his nights were suffering. Sleeping in a state of half-waking, he could barely rest his muscles, and his mind was wearing thin. He shivered at the cold as his cloak was wetted through, and the brim of his hat dipped again, forcing his head even farther back as he moved closer. It'd be a few minutes yet, unless he ran.

And he didn't like running. He'd compose himself,. go in, and use the last few coins he'd stolen managed to steal from the corpses along the way to get a bed for the night. A bed. He groaned at the thought. Blankets, warm soft blankets...even if he didn't sleep, the thought was enough to make his tired legs keep moving.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Night grows near

He'd seen the woman walk in, and he knew her at first sight, though he'd never met or seen her before. Odd, he thought, to be so old a man and yet still find enchantment in so new a feeling. Something out there, some great force, was bringing these people together, and as powerful as he was, it was fully out of his understanding. He smiled to himself.
But his pleasure was interrupted when he glanced back out the window and saw that the sun was rapidly nearing the horizon. Nightfall, and only one had arrived. Would he have to venture out to find them? Surely that would be suicide.
"What's going on? Are they here yet?"
The high-pitched little voice had come from his bag, sitting on the chair next to him.
"Shhh," Pennindar insisted. "Quiet, Talbot, or someone will here you."
Talbot grumbled then fell silent.
"One has arrived, and I fear for the safety of the others. For now, we must wait. Have faith in them, they are chosen for a reason. Stay here, I will go and speak with our new friend, though she knows not that she is a friend."
With that, he stood and wandered over to the table she sat at, putting on his most humble smile. humility, he wasn't quite used to it...
"hello, young friend," he began. "I wouldn't suggest you drink too much, not with the work that's ahead of us. You'll need a clear ahead very soon. Might I sit down and speak with you?"

 

[Firesprite]

Kyleen

Kyleen watched as the old man came over and addressed her "hello, young friend," he began. "I wouldn't suggest you drink too much, not with the work that's ahead of us. You'll need a clear head very soon. Might I sit down and speak with you?"

She almost laughed at the funny expression on his face, he looked like he was trying to be humble, but taking in the fine weave and workmanship of his clothes and his mannerisims, he clearly was not used to this. He intrigued her with his words though, assuming she would both take his advise about the drink and the work he offered.

Defiantly, she took a long swallow of her ale and indicated to the barmaid for more.

Wordlessly she waved her hand towards the empty bench beside her, inviting him to sit.

 

[poohlive]

It was a low rumble coming through the forest. A flash of light, illuminating the forest floor for just a second.
The little girl ran. She knew not where to go, but she ran anyway. Behind her, several men followed. Each of them giving out several lude comments. She ran and they followed.
Tears streamed down her eyes. It was a game they were playing, let her run before they take her, and have their way with her. Her father and mother were still back at the camp, tied up. Slavery was common around here, but this...
This was unspeakable.
The girl stopped at a tree, moving past the gangly roots and pushing herself as far back as she could go. Her breath came out short and shallow, she could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest.
Another rumble swept through the forest.
One man snarled, looking at the frightened girl inside her hiding spot. He called to the others, who crowded around. A few of them already had their pants down.
"Come on out now...." The man licked his lips.
She screamed, closing her eyes tighter.
An arm shot through her grabbing her leg, and then rubbing forcefully.
Another rumble tore through the forest. This time, no light helped it's way. It wasn't that of thunder though. A few heads turned up, trying to find out what had made that noise.
Two white slits cut through the darkness, high above any of them. One man screamed, another ran. They were eyes, they were fucking eyes.
Lightening brought the picture into focus. The creature looked more like a mountain of flesh and muscle than anything else. It stood there, growling, it's ugly teeth bared at the men.
They were scrambling now, running back to their camp. All thoughts of the girl forgotten, their lives were more important.
Within a second, the creature grabbed a tree and pushed. It fell in their direction. Striking one hard. He lay limp below it, the other's, continued to run, hoping to escape the wrath.
Sebulba could have captured them all easily, maybe even got them together and eaten them too. Human flesh was a bit bland, but it worked in a pinch.
Just like tree bark.
He pushed past the tree, looking inside. He could hear soft sobbing, his huge dirt blackened hands reached in as he took her out. Holding her close to his body. With one hand, he protected her against his shoulder.
Sebulba ran. There was only one place where he knew humans lived. A small village, he wasn't looking forward to being there. Humans didn't like him very well. Humans didn't like anything that wasn't their own kind. For being small and weak they sure were judgemental.
He finally caught sight of it. Rain pelted down on him, but it didn't matter. He covered her head with his massive hand, she was still crying. She held onto him tightly, it made him feel kind of good. Her protector.
There was only one place that looked full of life. Some dull lights coming from a tavern. With a small grunt he let his foot fly at the two doors.
They crashed open.
Lightening struck, and thunder rumbled across the village.
He came in, looking warily from person to person. The child in his arms was still crying, softly sobbing. He patted her, as if to reassure her things were going to be all right.
There, next to the stairs was a woman. She looked at him like he would tear her limbs off at any time. He walked over to her. His knuckled hand out in front of him and his legs coming behind.
He leaned up, nearly hitting his head on the high ceiling. He gave the woman the child, and nodded.
He didn't want to speak, he had learned common tongue, but chose not to use it. His words came out low and growlish.
Still keeping his eyes on the other men, he began to walk out. He didn't want to be in here as much as anyone else wanted him to be in here. The stares were deadly, but no one did anything.
They would have been foolish to try.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard- the Thief

He was on his way, eyes on his goal, ears open to the world around him, as he had been taught. Then, he had heard it. He stopped, and stepped back, cloaking himself in the shadows, eyes slowly moving to the side as his fingers gripped his fang.

He was a serpent, coiled in the shadows, awaiting the show of the disturbance. And when it came, it breezed right by. His grip relaxed. Anything that choose to pass by that quickly either didn't see him, or didn't care. Possibly both.

He waited in the shadows, eyes darting around the small group of buildings as his ears held his back. He would be the first victim if a raid passed by. But no, it was far to silent. he gathered his cloak around him. The many layers that wrapped around him had been penetrated. Cold began to seep through the damp cloth. Hi hat was drenched, and he knew water ran cool through his hair, though it did not touch his head.

He held his fang in an easy grip. At the ready, but not overdone. And he waited and watched and listened. Caution was his blade, and reason a sturdy hilt. The world was a dangerous place enough, no need to rush headlong into peril's way.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The new arrival.

Pennindar sat as she instructed. But he saw that she defiantly downed the ale in her mug. He didn't mind the drinking per se, but that he'd instructed her toherwise and she'd done as against his will, that ruffled his feathers but good.
Humble, he thought. Remember to be humble.
He tried to smile, then decided that humble was not necessarily his thing and dropped the show.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he began, "I an Pennindar of the Wizard's Council, and I've been waiting for you, Kyleen Swordsworthy."
He offered his hand, then, as it left the handle of his mug, noticed the mug rattle slightly, stop, then rattle again, a bit harder the second time. He lowered his hand, watching the mug rattle, then stop. Rattle, then stop. Rattle, then stop. He lifted it just as it reached the edge of the table, then turned to the doors as they burst open.
"Ah," he said, smiling, "And yet another has arrived..."
The giant stepped in, a child in his arms.
Now this should be interesting, the old wizard thought.
The giant looked around the room, then handed the child to a woman nearby and nodded, then turned to leave again. The people stared at him, afraid, and therefore angry and hating.
Ah, he thought, the wonder of man. Fearing and hating what you don't understand. How foolish to hate so gentle a creature.
He turned to Kyleen, setting my cider in the center of the table. "If you'll excuse me a moment."
He stood, straightening his robe and cloak, then started across the room, saying, "Pardon me, young friend. Could I speak with you for a moment?"
THe people stared in disgust at me as I approached him.
"It would be much easier for me to explain this to both of you at once..."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

And night falls

Talbot slipped from the small hand bag and glanced around, seeing the wizard wandering toward the door, which had burst open so suddenly it'd nearly scared Talbot into...being less cleanly than usual in the old wizard's bag. No one seemed to notice him, as tended to be the case. He wasn't exactly noticeable, not at his size. He leapt upward, gripping the edge of the table and pulling himself up, struggling to the table's surface. He didn't bother with Pennindar (the old man could take care of himself) but instead, looked out the window.
He saw nothing. That is, he COULD see nothing.
Night had fallen. The sun was entirely gone now.
"Oh, dear," he muttered. "May the others make it safely here..."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Nearly twenty miles from the town, where the forrest beyond it grew thick and the ground began to rise toward the mountains even further beyond, in a small hole less than two feet wide and four feet high, hidden from passersby by an overgrowth of brush, the four-legged creatures began to stir.
They stretched and growled at one another, fighting over who would exit the small cave first, then one by one they came into the night, gathering outside it ina pack of seven and baying loudly at the darkness above.
Then they started for the town, soon followed distantly by others and hearing another packs moving through the brush and weeds as well.
The mayor, slipping out the door to the Inn/tavern as the giant handed the child to the woman, moved quickly toward his office, which doubled as his home, staggering through deep puddles and almost falling with each step. Giants? He was wondering. As if things weren't bad enough...
He glanced toward the hills, seeing already nearing, their red eyes seeming to glow in the darkness.
"Nighthounds," he muttered, "And by Mer's arse, there would be plenty of other things in their wake..."
He hurriedly searched his pockets for his housekey, not daring to look back.

 

[Angelus]

Nathan

He walked slowly through the trees.... cursing his luck. His day hadn't been the best he ever had, in fact it had been the worst day of his life. He had been in a fight with a person and he still didn't know why. That fight had caused him to be thrown out of the town. He was glad that he had all of his equipment with him though as he had a feeling that he needed it.

He looked up at the sky as he pulled his cloak tighter around him and wondered if it was ever going to stop raining. It had started right after he had left the town and he was lucky not to be soaked to the bone. He walked slowly along, hoping to find an inn somewhere, or at least a place that he could spend the night.

He then heard a noise behind him and stopped to listen to what it was but as suddenly as the noise had appeared it was gone again, leaving him to wonder what it was. He knew that his hand was already on the hilt of his sword and he could feel the spiral pattern under his hand, even through the glove.

He stood there for a second and let out a slow breath of air then turned and started walking again. He cursed the rain and his luck again and wished he knew where he was even going. Just then he saw something in front of him, a light and he walked quickly towards it and let out a small shout of joy- it was an inn! It was place to stay the night!

He walked up to the door and slowly pushed it open then took of his cloak and shook it to get rid of the excess water. Once he had done that he walked over to a table near the fire and let it warm him up.

 

[The GrandMage]

The Nights Stirs- Richard

Richard felt it, that was the best way to describe it. Meek feelings stimulating the outer edges of his sense. Sounds of animals hiding, the smell on the wind. His fang was loose in and instant. He ran towards the trees, searching. There. It was old, older that the others, roots ran deep, branches high off the gound, and wide and strong.

He jumped, free hand striking forth to grab the wood. He sheathed his Fang, and threw his other hand up. He dragged himself up, and perched himself on the branch. His Fang was loose again, familiar in the hand that weilded it.

He climbed up the tree. Safer here than in town. The lack of people would throw them off. And he could protect himself. It would take time to rip a tree down from under him.

 

[poohlive]

He saw the man rise, and held his ground. It was the same in every place he visited. Certain times he needed things in town, he hated men and their bigot thinking. There were certain times when it couldn't be helped though.
He had expected the same speech, get out of town. Humans and their towns, it was sad to think they could own something like the ground or the forest. Even sadder to think they could hide themselves and be safe in a world like this.
It didn't come though, the words were kind instead of hateful. He had to look at the man before him. Really look at him. An elderly man, with wise eyes. They seemed to recognize him. Sit, and hear something?
This man surely must have known something. A human with powers, powers of the ancients if nothing else. With a slight grunt, Sebulba moved next to the woman who he referred to. It seemed like something important to listen to, so he might as well.
He kept his eyes on the table, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. Already he could feel the hateful eyes peering into him.
He didn't say anything to the woman or the man. He would save his voice for when he needed to talk. It's odd, as much as people talk, they really don't need to. Sometimes, he thinks people just talk to hear their own voice.
With as soft and as curious eyes as a giant like Sebulba could muster, he looked at the wise old man.

 

[Jazzi]

Chroi

Chroi muttered under her breath as she yanked at her cloak that was entangled in the thorns of a gleeful bush. The small female elf pulled with all her strength until the thorns reluctantly released their hold. She glared at the bush before turning on her heel to march in the opposite direction of where she had just come.

Her foot slipped on a wet root, knocking her off balance and into the trunk of a large tree. She steadied herself and sighed again. She was wet, cold and lost. She was not a happy elf. Chroi muttered another string of curses she had learned from the humans. She grinned as she pictured the horrified look on the elders faces if they ever heard her.

She rested her head on the trunk and sighed. If only she had paid attention to where she was going instead of daydreaming, she would still be with the others. She had been so caught up in her thoughts with a new melody that she didn’t realize she was no longer with the traveling party until it was too late and now it was dark.

Chroi brushed her hand across her forehead and straightened her shoulders resolutely. She would not give up. She was sure she would catch up to the others. The elf began to sing, her voice clear and pure. The melody was beautiful, a child’s song actually. Taking comfort with her music, Chroi blindly continued on, never realizing that she had strayed far, far away from her companions and ignorant of the fact that her singing was now attracting unwanted attention.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The Inn...and yet another arrives...

Pennindar was surprised at how easily the giant had accepted his proposal. Now, how should he tell them that the future of mankind, and indeed all of the races, was dependant on their cooperation to stop what must have been the Witch Druselda from plunging the world into eternal darkness?
He looked to the warrior, Kyleen.
"Perhaps it would be best if we all had something more to drink...perhaps something with a little kick to it, eh?"
People were staring, favoring them stares of pure fear and hatred. He ignored them, but favored the giant a smile.
"Ah, barmaid," Pennindar said, waving a hand for her to approach the table, which she did ever so carefully, looking back here and there as if she was hoping someone had come along with her.
No one had.
"Perhaps another drink for the lady. I'll have...what she's having, and another cider to wash it down...And you, my large friend?"
"Ahh...we...don't...serve giants," she said, her jaw shaking as if Sebulba was jump to his feet and beat her to the ground.
"Get him an ale as well," Pennindar said, "And if it makes you feel better, you can pretend I'm going to drink it."
He turned away from her without another thought. She backed carefully away, heading back toward the bar.
"Well," he began, "I guess the best place to begin is..."
He trailed off, sitting up straight, appearing as though he were listening to the air. No one spoke (indeed, the entire room had gone quiet in the presence of the giant).
A moment later, the door opened and in walked a white-haired man.
"I believe we've just been joined by another," Pennindar commented, "I belive I should go and greet him as well. If you would but excuse me..."
The wizard stood and wandered over to where the man had sat, near the fire to warm himself, the only man in the room who was unaware of the giant's presence, it seemed.
"Hello, friend," Pennindar said, "My name is Pennindar, and I believe you are Nathan, yes?"

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The man in the tree

The nighthounds worked their way toward the town, stopping here and there to search the ground for scents. As a few passed beneath the tree Richard hid in, one stopped, picking up the vague scent of a human. It stopped short, sniffing the ground intensely, moving slowly toward the tree, then losing the scent in a puddle of the downpouring rain. It sniffed around again, found nothing of the scent, then heard the distant sounds of singing. It rose its head, listening, picking up the sound far off to its right, somewhere in the briars toward the East of town.
It was off, leaping through weeds and brush, paws sending up spray of rain water from puddles on the ground.
Nearer to town, some of the hounds had aleardy reached the edge of town. They crept up to the Inn, eyes watching carefully, seeing the light shining through the windows.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard- Watching the Night

"Nighthounds," he muttered to himself. Perhaps a better name would be Hellhounds. They must have rode out of the fires on Calamus's heels. He watched as one picked up his scent, and then lost it again. He sent a silent prayer to the Goddess of rain, who he had been cursing when the downpour had started.

Then, he noticed the creature moving off. He cocked his head to the side, and then he heard it. Singing. It was faint, almost to faint to hear. No one from town would hear it. The hound would get whoever it was. He listened longer. The voice, it was...female?

His eyes opened in surprise. He had been wringing out his hat when the hounds had arrived. He carefully replaced it over the braid coiuled on top of his hat. The droop was less, but it still dipped down. He jumped down from his branch to a lower one, and continued on untill he hit the gound. He looked around the darkness, ears perked. They hadn't heard him, too far away, too close to the noise of the town.

He breathed again, and took off, hoping to overtake the nighthound, or, at the very least, arrive in time to sink his fang into the foul creature. He didn't make a habit of risking his life for others, but it was female. Females didn't likely go out by themselves. If he was lucky, her family would watch his back, giving him a decent night's sleep.

And so, he ran. Toes dug into the ground as he rushed on, leaning forward as he allowed himself to moved without worry of stopping. The voice grew louder as he dodged around trees and bushes through the night. As he neared, he heard a sound. The sounds of a creature moving through brush recklessly. The nighthound. He moved on as quickly as he could.

What a night to try his luck.

 

[Angelus]

Nathan

Nathan turned when he heard his voice mentioned and was surprised when he saw a wizard sitting next to him. He had no use for wizards at the moment.... unless they could get him warm quicker but he did wonder how this wizard knew his name. He moved in his chair to look at the man, his name was Pennidar or so he said it was.

"What do you want of me. All I want right now is to warm myself by this fire and try and get a room. I have had a lousy day and if you are here to make it worse then you best leave now." He then remembered where he was and who he was talking to.

"Please, forgive me. I have had the worst day I have ever had and all that I want right now is to get warm. And how exactly do you know my name by the way.... I never told you what it was."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Penindar and the man at the fire

He old wizard chuckled.
"Funny that you ask that, how I knew your name," he replied. "I'm not quite sure myself. Perhaps this is best. You go right ahead and get warm, and when you feel up to it, come and join my friends and I at this table over there." He pointed to the table. "You can't miss us. Just look for the large quiet fellow."
With that he headed back over to the table and sat again, happy to see the waitress had brought their drinks (even the giant's).
"So many interruptions," he muttered. "But things are slowly coming into place. He'll be over in just a bit I imagine." Or so his intuition told him, as he hadn't allowed the man time to answer. "Where to begin...Oh, well, why not at the beginning. There once lived a man, who I believe you have all heard of, by the name of Calamus. Some said he was the spawn of the devil himself, and he certainly was devilish as I recall. Anyway..." He recounted the story of Calamus, and how he tortured the people of whatever land he roamed through, and how he stole and killed at will, enjoying the feats. The old man stopped here to take a long gulp of his ale, then continued on.
"Before the man's death, he was apparently wed, so to speak, to the Witch Druselda, who at that time, and I imagine today, the most powerful Witch of the Council, which of course, consisted of the most powerful in the known world. This Witch fell into hiding soon after her secret lover was killed and their relation discovered, and to this day has not been found. However, it seems this great evil, which soaks away the daylight a minutes at a time and sends these evil hordes of beasts upon us nightly, and daily as well though with other beasts, has something to do with her and her want for revenge in the name of her late husband. this is the belief of the Wizard's Council, and I have been sent to choose...yes, we'll call it that, adventurers to accompany in the venture to find her, and put an end to this evil."
He finished his ale, slamming the mug and waving the waitress over again. Again, she came, though unhappily.
"Another," Pennindar said, holding up to her the mug.
"I do believe it is fate that has brought us here today to join together in this journey, and I ask of each of you, what say you to this?"

 

[Firesprite]

Kyleen

Kyleen sat at the table drinking her ale and listened to the old wizard talk. She'd been surprised at his easy manner with the giant and his knowledge of their names.

Personally she was quite comfortable with giants, but she knew this was not the commonly held feeling with other humans.

Glancing around the diverse company she shrugged in answer to the wizards question. "I'm in, Mer knows I've got nothing better to do right now. Everyone is too scared and hiding so much, no-one has organised a decent war in ages."

 

[Jazzi]

Chroi

The last words of the song lingered in the night air. Soft, melodic, like a touch of sunshine from the first morning light. Chroi stopped and looked around at the unfamiliar forest. The trees here were much younger than the ones from her ancient home. The elf had a nagging feeling she was even further off course than when she had first begun.

Maybe it would be wiser to simple retrace her steps back. Pulling her cloak tighter, the small woman turned only to freeze in fear as she stared directly into the blood red eyes of a night hound.

Chroi felt her heart stop as the vicious creature growled at her. She had heard stories of such creatures but never did she dream she would see one face to face. It carried the stench of death with it as it bared its teeth. She was a creature of goodness and magic, it was a creature of evilness and decay and they eyed each other with unhidden loathing.

The elf drew forth her small dagger. She knew it would be a fruitless but nonetheless she was going to try and defend herself. Chroi took a deep breath and began to sing, her voice clear and strong. The melody of her song intertwined with the harmony she sang to create bonds of solid music, which wrapped themselves around the hound’s leg. The creature howled in fury as it snapped its jaws at the magical bindings.

But her concentration was shattered when something else crashed through the bushes to her left. Immediately the musical bindings dissipated to nothing. With a cry of fear, Chroi brought her arms up as the night hound leapt at her.

 

[Angelus]

Nathan

Nathan got up and walked towards the table just to be greeted with the sight of a giant. He looked up the giant and said, "My you are a big one. I haven't seen a giant quite like you in a while."

He walked past the giant and took a seat at the table then looked at the people there. He wondered what they would say to him now that he had joined their little group. He turned to the wizard, "Okay. You made me so curious that I had to come over. Now would you please tell me why we are here in this inn at this particular time and why is it you know all of us?"

 

[poohlive]

The words rang true. It had been the talk of nothing else, this apparent coming of danger and doom. There seemed to be no way to stop it though, this wizard offered a way. He would be helping countless humans that hated him, but honestly, he would also be helping other creatures. Even his fellow giants.
With a grunt he nodded. His voice, which he wanted to be a little more than a whisper, seemed to boom from his large chest anway.
"I'll join you."
He touched the mug of ale to his lips. Alcohol wasn't something he indulged in, but it seemed time for a drink. Something to wet the whistle anyway, he drank half of it, and put it back down. No sense in overdoing it.
His eyes crossed over to a new person, who seemed to comment on his size. These humans, all they cared about was size. Sebulba didn't react to him, merely keeping his eyes down, and focused on the wizard. He wasn't here to make friends.
Besides, with the journey as it was, they would all get to know each other well enough as it is. Shifting the axe on his back so it rested in a better position, Sebulba contented to eyeing the rest of the room.
Humans!
Pleh. He'll take trolls any day, at leas they are honest with their emotions. They don't care if their outnumbered or outmanned, they'll die still clawing at their killer. You had to admire a creature that would even attempt to attack something of his stature, and not just stare with hateful eyes.
Letting out a soft growl, he focused in on more of the conversation.