The Summons...

[BlazeofLife]

OOC: This thread is by invitation only, if you would like to join please post your profile in http://www.literotica.com/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=64831 and I'll get back to you.

The Summons...

The moonlight cast a dim pall over the crags and peaks that surrounded Agaden Reach, bathing the landscape in the bleak shadow of night. Twisting her full red lips in a forbidding scowl, the Witch-Woman known as Shota drew herself up to her full height, standing regally, and turned away. Events were proceeding much faster than she had thought possible, and it would soon be too late. Rahl was close to his prize, she could sense his filthy presense in the world like a blight upon the land.
Crossing her arms, lost in thought, she rubbed her shoulders briskly, wishing she'd brought her cloak with her, and started back toward her palace.
Gliding elegantly across the open field, she saw little of the path before, long ingrained habits carrying her safely past the many twists and turns. Ahead of her, rocks and debris from the trees above stirred as she approached, then flew aside, as though cast there by some unseen benefactor. She had traveled this way many times before, and her magic rose, unbidden, to clear the obstructions before she encountered them.
Ahead, a clearing appeared among the swaying grasses, and she made for it, her course set directly toward a massive throne, set atop three square marble platforms, and covered all about with carvings of gold-leaf vines, snakes, and other beasts.
Approaching slowly, she showed little reaction as her feet left the ground, making the same continuous progress, though she now strode upon nothing but air. Reaching the throne, she seated herself, adjusting her wispy, low-cut, variegated gray dress to sit properly and modestly over her casually crossed legs.
Shota's arms rested on the chair's high, widely spaced arms, with her hands draped arrogantly over gold gargoyles. The gargoyles nuzzled her hands, as if hoping to be stroked. A rich canopy, draped with heavy red brocade and trimmed with gold tassles protruded above her, protection from a merciless sun which would not shine for hours yet.
She pored over the events that had befallen the land, thinking of all that would yet happen if Panis Rahl were to succeed in achieving his quest...
To think, all the people who had died over the years, all the work, all done to prevent the Boxes of Orden from ever being put into play, and now it was all for naught. That damned mage, Orden, had created another of his toys, and this one had none of the protections of the Boxes.
She began to fret, clicking her long, lacquered nails together nervously. This new Rod, it was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. Simply holding it would transport its wielder beyond the veil, piercing it, and allowing the Keeper access to the world of the living...
If that were to happen, the world was doomed. She knew Rahl's plans, to challenge the Keeper here, in the world of life, where his power was lessened. It might even work, she admitted to herself grudgingly. But it mattered little. Whichever of them prevailed, would still control the underworld, and the land of the living would soon be absorbed into death's icy domain...
Shaking her head, she reached down, and pulled forth a crystaline tiera from a hidden pocket sewn into the side of her dress.
Sighing she set it atop her head, careful lest she damage her shimmering, auburn hair, and began to focus her energies upon it.
Soon, a pale glow began to shine forth from the single gem set into it, and she felt the summoning spell taking shape for her.
Come to me, she thought, framing the words carefully to send them through the burgeoning link with her targets. Come to me, again, softer this time, yet more urgent. She settled comfortably, willing to take her time with the delicate weaving, her tapestry a web of magic woven across the heavens to link her with those special few, those who would have that certain legacy buried deep within them, the legacy of a hero.
Soon, she knew, they would hear her voice, whispering in their minds where no one else could hear, and they would come. It was inexorable, they would have no choice in the matter, it was simply an unexplainable urge that would torment them with longing.
Rather like a mosquito bite, she thought suddenly, whimsically. No matter how hard you tried, sooner or later you just had to scratch.
Now she had only to wait, it was only a matter of time...

OOC: This is your cue everybody, you can either create a whole post about how you go about getting here, so as to introduce the details about your character, or you can simply arrive here, and work it into the story later.

 

[Jerahmeel]

Jerahmeel


As I prepare to go on my quest. A quest that I know nothing about. Just that there is a calling. Something is pulling me and I most go. But this means putting aside my revenge against Panis Rahl for the death of my parents.My father was an adviser for Panis Rahl. Until he meet my mother who was a theif. She was caught stealing from Panis Rahl. My father knew what he would do to her. So he hide her and keep her safe. They slowly feel in love. They would have been safe except. Anothere of Panis Rahl men found my mother and attacked her. My father killed him and took me and my mother and fled. Where we hide for many years. My mother teaching me to be a theif and my father teaching me to be an expert fighter.Besides being a advisor my father was a General in Panis Rahl army. He taught all of them to fight.We lead a happy life till I messed it all up. I was caught stealing when I was 10. My parents came to rescue me from Panis Rahl. But it was a trap. Panis Rahl knew who I was and was ready for my parents.My parents where able to free me. But as I was feeling I seen them killed.There bodies where later hung up in the town center.He stripped them and hanged them. He spat on them and told the people that this and worst would happen to those that betray him. I later retreived there bodies and berried them somewhere safe. But there is not a day that goes by I don't blame myself for there deaths.There is only one way to repay them and that is the death of Panis Rahl.But that will have to wait till after this quest.But before I leave I have to vist them. To promise them that I avenge there death.I leav for my journey and for what seems like forever I follwo this calling. It grows everyday that I journey. The calling get stronger and stronger.Finally arriving at a small path. Where rocks and debris where cast to teach side like a walk way like some came threw the center.Ahead, a clearing appeared among the swaying grasses, I set course directly toward a massive throne, set atop three square marble platforms, and covered all about with carvings of gold-leaf vines, snakes, and other beasts. Seated above was a woman in low-cut, variegated gray dress. She was the one calling me. But how and why was she calling me. I stood there waiting for her to make the first move . She called me know let her make the first move.

 

[BlazeofLife]

OOC: Nicely done.

IC:

Gazing down at the youth, Shota smiled, a patronizing smile, that never touched her eyes.
"Be welcome, Jerahmeel. I am Shota, and this is my land. I know the questions which are burning your mind, that wish to leap from your very tongue, but they shall have to wait. You are merely the first, and I have no wish to repeat myself to each of you."
Gesturing behind him, she pointed to an ornate table, complete with gilt brocaded chairs, where only a moment before had been only open field. Upon the table, great dishes of food were laid out, steam rising from their heated contents.
"Eat, enjoy this repast, you will find whatever food you most desire upon each of the platters. And do make yourself comfortable, the others were not so quick to heed my summons as were you."
Turning her head away once more, she resumed her silent vigil, her gaze focused on the mighty peaks which encircled her valley.

 

[Paendragon]

The shepherd is called

Darren stood, relaxed, before the spectators. It was his turn at the targets. He stood, holding his bow at his side, breathing deeply. He used an unusual method for his shooting. Instead of nocking his arrow, then raising the bow, aiming, then firing, he developed his own, unorthodox style. He drew aimed, and shot in one smooth motion. It took him years to perfect, but it enabled him to get off shot upon shot, while others were waiting to release their first. Besides, it awed all the pretty maids, which was another point of these competitions.

He had been eyeing a particularly pretty woman for the past few days, who was plump in all the right places. She stood now, watching him, smiling shyly. He could have her, if he made the show grand enough.

He strolled toward the picnic table, and picked up his mug of ale, to the jeers of some onlookers. He took a long draught, then held up his hand for silence. The crowd obeyed, always looking for a show.

"A true artist, should never be rushed, my friends."

Laughter echoed, with some more enthusiastic jeers. He knew it was corny, but with the way the maid was looking at him it had the desired effect. She would be putty in his hands this evening.

The crowd silenced as he again took his place. Suddenly he felt as if he were being watched. Like someone was standing right over his shoulder. He turned, and looked behind him, past the crowd, and toward the mountains barely visible in the distance. That's where she was. In that direction. He turned back to the target, drew and fired, three times. All arrows hit the center of the bullseye, bunched so close, the feathers touched eachother. He turned and walked toward his horse, without waiting for the cheers of victory. He mounted, and accepted the first prize pouch of gold, before riding toward the voice in his head, the pretty maid already forgotten. He didn't like being manipulated, and would find out the reason behind it.

* * *

He sat in the chair farthest from the Witch, keeping her in front of him, and keeping his bow ready. He didn't touch any of her food, instead eating what was left from his pack. He had always distrusted magic, and everyone whom used it. His father had longed for a place to go to be free from it's influences, and Darren agreed, wholeheartedly. He also didn't like being compelled to act against his wishes, which is what brought him here in the first place. He was aware of the irony in doing what she wanted, just to find out why, and wondered if she had planned that as well. All this was giving him a headache. He sat quietly with the other man, and waited.

 

[Jerahmeel]

Jerahmeel

I wacthed as anothere man sat at the table. His silents and expression made me think he didn't won't to be here.I could see a bow. I guess I would have to break the ice. "Hello my name is Jerahmeel. I assume you had the calling to. Where are you from. Me I wonder here and there."

 

[delite]

Sirroco had just relieved a very drunk merchant of his gold he had thought he was going to taste the delights that she had to offer but was now leaving thanking the god's for his lucky escape and that his wedding tackle was still a part of him. Sirroco chuckled as she watched him scamper of.She was just about to reenter the tavern looking for her next victim when she thought someone spoke to her, a quick look round no body there she shook her head and again went to enter the tavern, the voice again, Sirroco listened carefully, she then entered the tavern stopping only to collect her belongings she then left.

******
Sirroco Sat at the table with her face still beetroot red, only she could trip up and land on her face in front of the witch that had called her here
The smell of roast beef assailed her nostrils, she loved roast beef but hadn't had any for ages. she lifted the lid on one of the platters, oh joy of joy roast beef and yorkshire puddings, her embaressment forgoten Sirroco tucked in.
Looking at the 2 men also at the table Sirroco said between mouthfuls of roast beef "hi I'm Sirroco, try some of this beef it's stupendous."

 

[Paendragon]

Darren looked to the other man. Studying his appearance. A fighting man from the looks of him. Interesting.

"Darren," he replied. "South of Aydindril." That was as close to an answer as he would give to a stranger. "Any idea what the hell we're doing here?"

Before Jerahmeel could reply, a woman fell (literally flat on her face) into the clearing. After hearing the same spiel from the witch as Darren, the woman joined them at the table.

Darren studied her as she helped herself to some of the refreshment. She was an attractive woman. Curvy. Maybe this trip wouldn't be a waste after all.

"Hi, I'm Sirroco," she offered. "Try some of this beef, it's stupendous."

"Darren," he replied, indicating himself. "This is Jerahmeel. We were just about to discuss what the hell we are all doing here."

He glanced from the woman, to the man. "Either of you have any ideas?"

 

[BlazeofLife]

Swiveling her head to keep the others in view, Shota smiled to herself. An unlikely gathering indeed, she thought. Still, these few represented the only chance that the world would have in the battle for survival. They did not know it, not yet, but each of them possessed that spark, that small flame of courage and independance that was the lifeblood of a true hero. The trials ahead would allow them the opportunity to explore those buried parts of themselves. Or kill them, she thought wryly.
She could see their impatience, she felt it herself, but she remained waiting, impassively, for the remaining two to arrive.
Soon.....

 

[delite]

Sirroco


"nope, just kinda had to come like being drawn to some thing, I dunno, bloody long walk though, I mean you would have thought that if she" sirroco nods in the direction of the witch "wanted us here that badly she could have sent transport wouldn't you? or may be just I dunno teleported us here, any thing that would have saved on shoe leather and aching feet." with that Sirroco pulls of her boots and puts her feet up on a chair, she gives both guys a cheeky smile "don't suppose either of you would like to go and ask her if there's a nice hot bath and a laundry round here any where would you?"

 

[Jerahmeel]

Jerahmeel

I sit and listen as they talk. Neithere seem like they want to be here but the calling was to much. As was it for me to. The calling was greater then my hate for Panis Rahl, but not by much. Both seem to be in good shape. The female looks good. But my father warned me about women like her there is normally a price attached and i don't mean money. She probably has men falling over her and doing anything she wants."All I knows is this is keeping me from my revenge. This woman is giving Panis Rahl a couple extra days to live. I may die doing but I will kill him soon and anyone that get in my way."

 

[darkscribe]

Lost but found

I have wandered for days not knowing what to do or where to go.
I had resort to petty theivery because since all I had was destroyed, all that I had was a sword and the remainder of the money from supplies. That didn't last long though. So now i was theif stealing whatever food I could get a hold to nourish myself.

It was then that I heard the voice. Alas I thought I had been poisoned or gone mad because there was no one to be seen anywhere, yet still I heard this voice calling. It was beckoning me to join with others for a common purpose. I was sure that had gone mad becuase I had been walking for a day and had not been anywhere near a town or village. Still I followed this voice, like the call of a muse, having no idea where it was taking me.

Finally after 2 full days of wandering I came to a clearing. In the center of this clearing was a large throne sitting atop three large marble steps. I had noticed a woman sitting on the throne and immeadiately realized this is who was calling me, beckoning me to come join her. Off the side was a large table where 3 people were already seated helping themselves to what I thought was a most extravagant meal. I wanted to run right to the table and gorge myself on the delights, but I was cautious none the less for I had no idea who I was dealing with here.

I noticed that a woman was sitting at the table and she was eyeing me suspicously. That is when I heard the woman on the throne speak "Welcome traveller from your journey........"

OOC:Well I gotta jet for now but I'll be back tomorrow to continue this.

 

[Beethoven'sFire]

Onatah

Her strange eyes observed the smallest details of the landscape about her. Stepping quickly and catlike, she was nearly bounding through the wooded trail, making hardly a sound.

Three days ago the voice had began. For a while Onatah wondered if it was heat sickness, or some other affliction, but the voice was insistant and the woman's mind reacted to it as if it was truly her own decision to follow. She fought the urge for a while, but eventually the voice had won, and the woman was overwhelmed with a need to answer the call.

Onatah had set out on horseback the first day, but abandoned the animal to make quicker progress through the thin wooded trails. She had neither eaten nor slept since, pausing only for small drinks of water so as not to upset her stomach. She had seen water sickness before in horses, and knew that it was a miserable affliction.

It was a test of endurance. Underneath the pliable leather of her boots, Onatah knew that her feet would be blistered and bleeding. But the call was strong, urging her onward.

Still, as she ran her thoughts were allowed to wander. The woman recalled the home, the farm she was leaving, and could feel the weight of the gold it had brought against her right thigh. It seemed less and less her home with each step she took, and the woman was excited to be so boldly stepping away from that which was familiar.

By mid-afternoon on her third day of travel, Onatah began to pick up even more speed, drawing strength from sources unknown. The call screamed in her ear the closer she came, until at last she stood at the foot of a throne where sat a grand woman who did not appear the least bit suprised to see her.

The call had been answered. In what felt like a blast of wind her endurance left her, and the woman known as Onatah fell motionless to the ground at the witch's feet.

 

[The GrandMage]

Egan Reustwich-Trainer of the Mord Sith

Egan Slowly climbed the path to the Reach. His dark brown earthen pants and shirt kept him from the environment well enough, not that he needed it. He had been trained in the Agiel he had wore around his neck. It seemed ages past now. His left arm was tied in leather straps that went across his middle and over his right shoulder, keeping the useless apendage out of the way si it would no bother him. His short sword was still sheathed at his left side as he wandered slowly, keeping his steps light as he tread unknown ground.

He could feel it, deep in his bones. Magic. It was near. He sneered at the feeling. The time had long passed when he should fear magic, but with his recent traitorism, it held in the back of his mind. Slowly, he stumbed through to the Reach. The few people he had talked to had shared rumors of a witch woman, and how no one ever returned alive.

Crouching low, he started through the dark woods that greeted him, wondering if there was an easier way to move through this. The feel of the magic was familar, like the loyalty to the House of Rahl. But it was different, too. It called, but did no more. He wished he still had his agiel with him, to test in this new power could fuel it, but that had fled with his loyalty.

He stepped too close to a clump of roots, who immediately sprang to life, wrapping around his leg. His sword was free in a second, hacking and slashing as he sought to free himself. After a few minutes of struggle, he managed to release himself. He looked around, the feeling of being watched greatened by the sounds of things around him. He pressed forward, this time sword drawn, prodding at this too close to the the path.

Eventually he found himself in a lush green valley. Much more welcoming than the woods to his back. Eyes scanning the sky momentarilly in a reflex to the gars that lived in his homeland, he quickly pressed on. It was close now, the magic. It pressed around him like water. He could almost taste it. He moved onward, seeking to find the source of the call, the...magic.

 

[Paendragon]

Darren studied the latest arrival, while listening to the conversation at the table.

He had brown hair, and looked more like a farmer than anything else. Interesting group being assembled.

An archer, a fighting man, a thief, and a farmer. And the witch of course. Who would be next, a tavern maid?

***

The new woman came a few minutes after the farmer. She was pretty, or would be if she wasn't so haggard looking. Long brown hair, marked her as someone important, but the clothes screamed farmer.

She collapsed as suddenly as she arrived.

Darren leapt to his feet, grabbing his pack and a pitcher of water from the table. He trotted toward the downed woman, while keeping a wary eye on the witch. He bent over the woman, and felt her skin. She was warm, and clammy, and her breaths came in short bursts..

He pulled two clean rags from his pack and wet one with the surprisingly cold water from the pitcher. He folded it and placed it on her forehead. He lifted her legs at the knees and placed his pack underneath, propping them up. He then wet the second cloth, and held it over her mouth, squeezing it gently to allows several drops of water to fall into her dried mouth. He pressed the cloth to her lips, wetting them, and repeated the process.

"If anyone knows anything about medicine, I suggest you help. I'm pushing the limits of my knowledge as it is."

 

[Jerahmeel]

Jerahmeel

I took my back pack and pulled out a bottle. I walked over to the woman. I opened her mouth and poured some in her mouth. I tooke a pillow and put under her head. I looked at the man." This will help her but she most sleep alittle while. She will be fine after that."

 

[BlazeofLife]

Shota did not stir at the spectacle before, nor did she react as the others rushed to help the stricken woman. She waited still, for anone else her spell might have brought for her. She did not know the precise number that would join her, she would simply feel when the number was right. In her head resounded one last name, the only one she could gix upon at the moment. Omar Light, a metalsmith, he should be the next to arrive, she mused. Only time would tell if there would be more after him.

 

[The GrandMage]

Egan Reustwich

Egan slowly walked into what had to be the craziest sight he'd ever seen. Other peoiple were gathered 'round the expanse, and there, sitting on a throne, the witch woman. He could feel it in his bones. Slowly, he resheathed his sword, staring at her.

Grunting, he stood still, eyes glancing to the woman lying on the group, receiving so much attention. Weak. So easilly effected by pain, of stress. The very weather seemed to press them in. He stared up at the witch woman, watching, and waiting.

 

[delite]

Sirroco

Sirroco turned reluctantly from her roast beef, and looked over at the man and woman, with a deep sigh she rose to her feet,
"Exhaustion, I told you it was a bloody long walk."
Sirroco really didn't want to use any of the herbs and remedies that she carried in her pack, She'd nicked them of an old healer /mage and she still remembered the awful price she had had to pay when he caught her, but she'd got to keep the remedies.
The look on the man's face told her he wasn't going to be satisfied with just a diagnosis
"look if we had hot water I,..might.. have some herbs in my pack that'd help revive her"
Sirroco turned to go back to the table and there on the table, a steaming goblet of boiling water "bollocks" she said picking it up.
going to her pack she scabbled around then prodced a small package she took a pinch of powder from the package and added it to the water.handing the goblet to the man she said leave it a miniute to cool then slowly trickle this into her mouth, as soon as she is able to get her to take sips of it till it's all gone, then feed her.and for gods sake "Sirroco had just noticed the state of the other womans boots "get her boots of, clean her feet and bind them in clean bandages before they become infected,"
Sirroco then sat back down at the table and carried on eating.

 

[Lord Kenshin]

OOC: Sorry peeps.. I've been having trouble with putting words and phrases together. And writer's block played into that also. But now I'm back, though not a hundred precent yet. Excuse any non sense. Thank You.

Chris


IC:

Omar had been in the middle of a "deep" conversation with a bar maid. He frowned, a voice coming through his mind and piercing his consiousness like a knife.

"Come to me..... Come to me..."

The second time had been soft, but the urgent tone caused Omar to stand up abruptly before he even thought of standing. He looked around, searching for the person who had put this voice in his head. He saw no one, but as he glimpsed the mountains outside the small window, he had a sudden impulse to go forth and that is where he would find the voice.
Omar nodded politely to the female, turning and exiting through the door with his sword placed neatly in the sheath.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Omar seemed to know where he was going, following the winding paths and stony bridges until he reached a large building. He opened the doors, stepping inside and looking around. His emerald hues searching for the one who had spoken to him.

"Why is it that you hath brought me here?"

Omar was impatient, he wasn't the best looking man, and it was only once in a blue moon when he had the chance to actually be with a woman. He looked directly at the woman seated on some sort of throne, eyeing her slightly, though her looks told him he wasn't high enough in stature to be with her.
Omar waited for her to answer, just looking at her with that quizzical type of look he gave when he was impatient, and curious. He wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue, standing in the doorway, his horse moving around outside.

OOC:
I'll be back later..

 

[BlazeofLife]

At last, mused the witch woman, the time was right. She looked around at the disparate party, her impassive gaze taking in the different forms that surrounded her. Darren Greefield, the former shepherd, now a sword for hire. Omar Light, the adventurous metal smith. Sirroco, the sensual yet awkward thief. Onatah Curott, the level-headed farmer. Jerahmeel, the vengeful scoff law. Egan Reustwich, the former Mord Sith trainer. Even her hackles stirred slightly at the sight of that one. And finally, Cullen Mansfield, the bereaved farmer.
A motley following, to be sure. Still, they had answered the call, and though they did not know it yet, they each had been touched by the hand of fate and prophecy, each destined to aid in the coming storm. It was them, or oblivion, a tempest of destruction across the land that would leave none unscathed.

She rose slowly, her regal form atop her ornate throne drawing all eyes. Slowly, she descended, her slippered feet somehow finding purchase upon the empty air before her, walking down steps that didn't exist, her face showing no sign of the apparent impossibilty of her actions.
Coming to a stop upon the grass before them, she slowly reached upward and drew off the tierra encircling her lustrous hair, cupping it one palm. Ever so gently, she brought the enchanted circlet up to her lips, a gentle breath wafting from her, and it began to disintegrate, scattering on the wind like an irridescent haze.
With a gesture, a blue light highlighted the fallen woman, an aura that moved slowly down her frame, engulfing her completely. Where it touched, her waxen skin resumed its natural color, and her breathing returned to its rythmic beat. Shota waited for her eyes to open once more and look around alertly before continuing.
Looking around at the faces surrounding her, she spoke calmly, acutely aware that much of what she had to say would come as new to several of the group, and that certain details would be completely new to all of them.
"Welcome children, I trust you have had a pleasant journey?" Not bothering to wait for a response, she continued, her long, laquered nails pressed together before her.
"You have been summoned here for a specific reason. To some of you, these reasons will come as no surprise. To the rest, please feel free to ask questions of your comrades."
Taking a deep breath, Shota begins to recite her tale for them, scanning her audience for their reactions as she speaks.
"As some of you may already know, our world is divided into two continents. At the narrowest point between the two, there is a magical barrier, created thousands of years ago by the ancient mages of the Great War, that prevents travel between the two continents. There are only two methods of travel past the barrier: a Sorceress is able to do so, 3 times, by employing her Han, or magical ability, to guide her through. The only other method is by sailing around the barrier, which is difficult due to the fact that the barrier extends a great distance beyond land into the sea, a difficult proposition at best. The continents are called The New and Old Worlds, respectively. The New World, our land, is all around us. It is divided into two lands: D'Hara, and the Midlands, here. The Midlands is an Alliance of lands and kingdoms, governed by a council in the capital city, Aydindril, which oversees the governing of the Midlands. The goal of the council, and of the Alliance, is to preserve peace and individuality among the kingdoms by creating a common sense of purpose, and to prevent wars by allying the rest of the Midlands against any aggressor. They strive to simply allow every one their own way of life,
without fear of oppression from another land. The Midlands council is kept honest by a woman, called the Mother Confessor.
"D'Hara, on the other hand, is a dictatorship, run by a powerful, evil wizard named Panis Rahl. He rules his people with an iron fist, and is a tyrant. His objective is to rule the world, and he has found a way to do it. Buried deep within The Old World, In a land called Altur'Rang, he has located a talisman which he believes will grant
him total power over the world. To get to the Old World, he has realised that he must invade, as he is unwilling to gamble on the risk of sending others to gain such power for him. Before taking any other action, he sent a quad, a team of assassins, by ship around the Barrier, with
instructions to kill a man named Jagang. Jagang was the one man who might manage to unite the Old World to resist Panis's invasion, and was possessed of powers of his own. However, being still new to them, he was unable to prevent his own demise, and was killed by the quad."
Looking around at the others, she adds quietly, "this was 3 months ago. Much has changed in that time.
"Next, Lord Rahl used his army to seize control of the land of Renwold, a coastal country in the Midlands which borders the desert surrounding the barrier. Settling his army within the conquered land before Aydindril had time to respond, he negotiated with the Mother Confessor and with the Council to maintain his hold on Renwold, in return for granting its people free and unharrassed leave to depart the country, and for his agreement that he would attempt no hostile actions toward the rest of the Midlands. He agreed, of course, his sights set on the prize waiting for him in the Old World.
"In Renwold, he has set his army to the task of building a massive breakwater outward into the sea, intent upon creating a launching site for his army to sail around the magical obstacle. He has also sent troops by ship to the other side of the barrier, negotiating with the city officials in Grafen Harbor, in the Old World, to allow his
army use of their docks and passage through their lands for his army, to a staging area beyond the city. They agreed, based upon the fact that the detachments sent by ship will be small, due to the limited space on the ships, and will be congregating beyond their lands.
"And that is where things currently stand. Panis Rahl is waiting for his troops to complete their circuit of the Barrier, then he will begin the march toward Altur'Rang. The lands there are scattered, alone, and will pose little threat to his progress. At best, they may harrass him enough that he stops to crush them. We can hope for no more from them."
She glances around at the faces about her, some impassive at the news, some worried, and some looking disinterested.
"If Panis Rahl gets his hands on the talisman he seeks, The Rod of Orden, he will be able to breach the veil. The veil is the divider between this world, the World of Life, and the other, the Underworld, where the Keeper of the Dead reigns. If Rahl succeeds in tearing the veil, the Keeper will be unleashed upon this world. Lord Rahl intends this, and plans to challenge the Keeper here, in our world, where the Keeper is less powerful. He believes that if he can challenge the Keeper, and win, then he will take the mantle of Lord of the Underworld, and bring death to the World of the Living.
"Whether he is correct or not is immaterial. Regardless of who wins, everyone else loses. Everyone here, everyone you know, and everyone you don't, will die, in the most horrible suffering imaginable."
Stopping for breath, she extends a slender wrist, her fingers splayed outward, and a glass of water flies from the table to her grasp. Taking a delicate sip, she continues, her gaze spearing each recipient of her summons sharply.
"The fates have decreed that each of you, here, will play a part in the coming battle. Panis Rahl must be stopped. And before you suggest it," she glanced at certain individuals, her eyes pinning them where they stood, "He cannot be killed. Not yet. You are not yet ready to face one such as he. He would turn the very weapons you used against him back upon you, and leave you crying in the darkest pits of eternity for death. No, before anything, he must be denied his prize. You, all of you, have it within you to accomplish this. You, together, can, and must, reach Altur'Rang ahead of him, and take the Rod. Destroy it. Take it to Aydindril, to the Wizard's Keep, where there are those who know the workings of such dark magics, and can render it harmless."
Ceasing her monologue, she smiled slightly, a smile that never reached her dark eyes, and said quietly, "Are there any questions?"


OOC: Sorry that was so long, I was trying to convey a great deal of info at once, that's the last time I run on for that long at once.

 

[darkscribe]

After a short conversation with the summoner, as he thought of the woman, Cullen went over to the table. He sat down and proceeded to gorge himself on everything that was there, since he had not eaten in almost a full day. Then he noticed that the others were staring at him and realized that he forgot his manners in introducing himself. Before he could say anything else a woman had coming sprinting up to throne and stopped in front of it, then collapsed on the spot. One of the other men had jumped up and grabbed her before she had fell to the ground. The man hade said that she was ill and needed medicine. Cullen was disappointed because he should know how to help this woman, but he hadn't listened when his father had explained herbs and remedies to him. The others had gotten up to aid this woman except for the woman who was sitting across from him, she just kept eating her meal as if nothing had ever happend.

Another man that was there had said that the medicine was not working well. The woman seated across from Cullen looked at him. He just stared blankly back her becoming angry because of the way she was looking at him, almost knowing that he should know what to do here. She slammed her food down on the plate, got up, reached into her bag and pulled out a small package. She then grabbed the goblet that had boiling water in it and mixed what was in the bottle with it. She told the men to have this woman drink it all, then to bring her to the table and eat some food, then she will be alright. With that the woman came to the table, sat down and resumed her without even looking at Cullen.

Cullen thought it strange that at this time the summoner had done nothing to help this woman who she had summoned. The summoner just stood there watching the events unfold. Then again Cullen could not be sure of the intents of this woman toward the summoner. The men had brought her back to the table and the woman was starting to come around. They proceeded to mak a plate of food for this woman. It was then that Cullen noticed a man standing in the distance also watching the events unfold. The man then walked over to throne where the summoner was and was having a conversation with her. He could not hear the conversation because of the noise at the table. He had wondered what this man had wanted because he was different from the rest of the group almost everyone here looked like common folk. This man though had a certain aura about him. he seemed like a man who had experienced alot in his lifetime, a soldier that has seen many a battle. This made Cullen even more curious. He wanted to find out more about this man but was afraid to approach him. Except for the times when Cullen had gone into town to get supplies for his father he really didn't have much interaction with people, so he was shy. Cullen still felt his stomach rumble and decided to eat some more. He knew that he would get to know more this group of people in the future.

 

[delite]

Sirroco
standing up to her full height(a totally unimpressive 5'1) Sirroco asked to no one inpaticular and at the same time to every one
"So does this mean we've all gotta trek down to Renworld, then get round the barrier avoiding an army then trek through the old world to find this rod thing? Cause if it does let me tell you I aint walking the whole way, my feet still hurt from walking here."
With that Sirroco went to sit back down on her chair, forgot about her boots that she'd left next to it, tripped over them pushing the chair out of the way and landing in a sitting position on the floor.
"shit, ow, shit well I'm still not walking all that way."

 

[darkscribe]

After the summoner had given her speech the across from made the point about walking all the way to Renworld. A place he never heard of but knew was far away. With that Cullen spoke "It matters not to me where we go for I have nothing. My home, my family, everything is gone. All I have now is my weapon at my side."

 

[Paendragon]

Darren laughed, and shook his head. He realized the witch could kill him for this, but took the chance.

"You expect me to take on Panis Rahl, for no pay, and with these?" he gestured at the motley crew surrounding him. "No offense, Shota is it?" He winced inwardly. He had heard of the witch before, and what he heard wasn't pretty. "But I work with professionals. Some of these people look like they could handle themselves in a fight, but what your talking about, an organized incursion into enemy territory..." He shook his head.

Even so, he knew he would try. He was no damned hero, but he had family in the Midlands. He would be damned if he let his baby sisters, and his brother fall under the care of the Keeper while he had breath in his body.

Still, it was better to find out now, what kind of people he would be traveling with. And whether they could take orders.

 

[BlazeofLife]

"Your means of travel are your own. I am simply a messenger woman, delivering a message. I see the current of events, I do not wade within the tides. I have told you what you must know, I will answer your questions, and I will share my insights. The rest, is up to you."