Heroes of Riro

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Saren, Aug 1, 2013.

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  1. The city of Calien was big. To Tavar, it was an opportunity to gamble his heart out. There was so much to see and do, and Tavar, as a naturally care-free man, loved to do everything. He wasted no time settling into the bustling crowds, weaving his way along and studying the people just as he'd done for the past few weeks.

    This was the place of the resistance. It was the hub of the fight against the darkness spreading over the rest of the world. Tavar had been roped into joining after he'd displayed some caring about the world, or lack thereof. The resistance seemed to be pining for anyone and everyone who would join, and Tavar had been caught in the middle of it.

    In that moment, he was on his way back to the building housing the leaders of the resistance. There were a few men and women brave enough to scout past the walls and find holes in their enemy's armies. Tavar wasn't very keen on doing such a thing, but it seemed he would be soon.

    "Tavar, there you are!" one of the taller men called as he walked in. Tavar rolled his eyes, but he did stop. For all the people they had under their wing for the fight, they knew his name. "We'll need you and some others to go out today. There's been reports of goblins on the outer walls. It's a small band, so we need only a few people to go out. If we can catch one of them alive, they might be able to tell us something."

    "And you want me to go out? I've displayed such fighting skill."

    "No, but you're smart. Take anyone you like."

    Tavar sighed, but he nodded. There were plenty of other people inside, and the resistance wasn't just in the one house. There were multiples, many of them equipped with cellars in case of a city siege. Riro was the real target, but they couldn't hope to hide out there. Evil spawned from the city constantly, and few people had managed to live there.

    Tavar didn't really want to think about it as he walked through, the small silver and gold disc flipping through his fingers. He always tossed it around when he was nervous or in thought, and in that moment, he was both. He could hear the other man, Palik, talking to others, wondering if they would travel with Tavar to the outer walls.
  2. The soft rain that fell only served to make the chill in the air a bit worse for the inhabitants of the city. Paige had enjoyed rain once, when she could watch it from the warmth of her home, but now, sitting under a torn tarp trying to finish the last of the axe heads ordered by the resistance, she wasn't pleased.

    Once she finished, she put on her cloak and pulled up her hood, tucking her long black and silver braid in to the coat. She scanned the city streets and left the relative dryness of the tarp to head for the camp. She weaved between people, thinking back on how she had come to be a part of the resistance. Her father and brother had once fought for the king, and in return the king had taken care of the people in his realm. However, when the darkness finally fell, it had swallowed them and left her and her mother.

    "Think of the tales they will tell," her mother urged some time ago. "How you defeated the darkness and brought the light back to the kingdom!"
    Her mother had not wanted to let her go join the resistance, but they both knew people were badly needed and perhaps a blacksmith could be of use. So here she walked, through wet streets on the way back to what was now her home until they won or died.

    Lost in thought, she didn't notice a man standing in front of her and promptly bumped in to him, barely managing to stay upright. She turned angry eyes to him and was about to tell Tavar to watch where he was going, but bit her tongue. She'd been the one not paying attention after all.

    "My apologies," she said, "Wasn't watching where I was going."
  3. The soldiers held their breaths; pressed against the city wall, their leader peering around the corner.

    "All clear"he signed, holding up a sign, four fingers in a V-shape.

    The muffled sound of booted footsteps were the only mark of the group's passage outside the walls and into the tall grass of the field outside. They marched silently to the corner of the city, where they halted as before.

    Monsters tramped in formation, marching in lines; goblins and shorter imps in chain and plate armour, most of it bearing royal insignias, or the insignias of great lords; plundered from their deceased owners, no doubt. At the front of this formation, stood a slightly taller figure. A black cloak covered most of the form, but that build could only be human. The group was startled, they hesitated, staring; this was different; humans were physically weaker than goblins; therefore the goblin commanders were usually trolls or werewolves.

    The figure turned quickly; eyes flashing a sudden glow; the mouth moved, though they could not hear the words, and lightning flew from it's fingertips; igniting the grass around them, shocking through hands and heart and brain; agony coursed through every nerve and -

    "Hey, sleepyhead!"

    Arynn woke with a start; her face had a strange sensation; rubbing one cheek she felt it slightly numb; she had fallen asleep on the table; her arms were still folded on it. Her older cousin, Zetak, had his hand on her shoulder. "The meeting's starting" he said, moving away. He paused as Arynn straightened and stretched; her back was a little sore from being hunched over who knew how long. "And you've got drool on your face."

    He grinned and disappeared down the stairs as Arynn scrambled for the washbasin, her usually pale face turning red with embarrassment. She checked the mirror while she was there; her hair was a royal mess. Strands of black stuck out of the braid at random, and loose 'bumps' formed at the back of her head. Sighing, she pulled it over her shoulder and began to undo it. Braided, the never-cut mop fell to her mid-back. Unbraided it reached her hips. she reached for the comb which she kept next to the washbasin and began working on it, moving quickly

    knock knock "I wasn't kidding!"

    Grumbling, Arynn hastily finished straightening her hair; not having time to rebraid it properly, she took two parts off the sides and tied them neatly behind her head, letting the bulk of it fall free as she headed downstairs, holding her skirt up a few inches so she didn't trip on the stairs.

    The resistance met in Zetak's house this time, and it wasn't built to accommodate much more than six or seven people at a time. The living area was crowded, and all the seats were taken; but Zetak, while he hadn't lied, wasn't entirely accurate, either. People were starting to assemble; a few stragglers coming in from the rain, but the meeting hadn't started, not yet. If it had, she might have missed half of it already; it wouldn't be very long; they had to discuss the goblin troops coming to town, assemble a group to tackle them, decide where the next meeting was, and hopefully receive their new axe-heads for the footsoldiers; such as they were.

    Footsoldiers... Arynn rubbed her temple as she found one of the few breathing-room spaces left, near the door. Why did footsoldiers remind her of something? Shrugging it off, she decided it was probably just because she'd heard the word so much lately, and waited for the last few to come in from the chill night.
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