The Legend of Renalta (IC)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Brovo, Dec 17, 2015.

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  1. ((OOC here.))

    It was a bright and warm day in the late spring, a thousand years after the fall of a kingdom faded to legends and myths. Rolling grasslands stretched across the area, with the grass itself standing so tall that it reached up to the waists of most people. The occasional tree could be seen, dotting the terrain, providing shade to beasts, and any weary travellers alike... Truly a fairly idyllic location. On an off-beaten dirt trail through the grass, used only sparingly judging by the way the greenery was starting to reclaim it, laid a simple, tranquil looking pond. It was jagged around the edges, and fairly deep, though the bottom could just barely be seen if one looked at the right angle. Around the pond were multiple signs of campsites, most overgrown, as merchant caravans used to stop in this area every few days. There hasn't been any sign of a campsite for almost a month however, as Fate seems to conspire to keep a seditious secret.

    Within the area, watching over in secret, laid two figures in the grass. One of which, was a man named Marcus, and the other Jaro. Marcus is covered from his neck down in protective plate mail, kept hidden underneath a billowing dark cloak. The two shot occasional glances back at the pond, but otherwise kept to themselves, as though they were simply resting. Perhaps there were people already there, resting, but none seemed suspicious, or worth their time in any way. No need to break their concealment, truly. Minutes pass peacefully, resting, and then Marcus took a glance back at the pond to see a small, feminine figure in a cloak wrapped around her entire body, kneeled beside it. Hanging from her neck appeared to be a religious symbol of some sort. Curious, he motions for Jaro to secure the area, and then rolls to his feet and rapidly moves towards the pond to speak to this figure himself. Who was this person, and what was she doing here? She looked rather mysterious.

    As Marcus reaches the girl's back, his plate-covered feet stepping through the dirt and clinking with each step, she turns and lashes out for his chest. Both of her daggers—once hidden—now flashed out as the cloak is thrown off her body. She looked panicked as her blades made contact with Marcus' chest piece, and then bounced off. Marcus, taken somewhat by surprise, grabs the girl by the throat with one hand. “You should know better than to lash out at strangers...” He states simply, as he tears off her religious symbol with his other hand: It was a prayer symbol to a Rheinfelder god. She was utterly diminutive compared to him, and thus it took no effort for him to simply throw her into the pond. He tosses the religious symbol aside and then unsheathes his blade, ready for her to surface so he could question her with ease.

    He continued to wait for a few seconds, before noticing that there was no sign of the woman. “... This is strange.” He states simply, narrowing his eyes as he looks at the pond. Whether he were by himself or others were nearby, he continued to speak aloud. “I should have Jaro stay here and keep watch while I go and fetch a mage from the King's Rangers. They will know what this means... Nobody's ever disappeared before when I've done that.”

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    Meanwhile, underneath the surface, Mikan shakes herself out, soaked with water and coughing heavily. Nobody above the pond's surface could hear her, for she had fallen through the bottom, into a small cavern. Well, rather, she felt pulled through the bottom--not even Marcus could really force her through a solid thirty feet of water in a single throw. After a few seconds of coughing and wheezing, Mikan slowly gets to her feet, and then quickly reaches to her hair with concern. Her short, black hair. Sighing with relief, she then looks around the cavern, and opens her eyes widely when she notices, sitting at the very centre some few feet away from her, a massive pillar of ice. Contained in the middle of it was a figure with no features she could make out with the feet of ice between her and it, and taking a few steps closer, she curiously touches it with one hand. “Huh...” She mutters aloud, almost seeming to forget about the trouble above. “What are you... Treasure, maybe? Ancient, sealed evil? An innocent damsel to be rescued, maybe?... With my luck, probably the ancient sealed evil.” As she whispers this under her breath, she leaps back in surprise as the ice cracks underneath her hand. “Shit! Vom Vater, das ist eine Falle?! (By the Father, is this a trap?!)”

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    Outside, any magically inclined—even those only slightly so—could feel a sudden burst of magical energy flow past them harmlessly for miles in each direction. Something powerful had just gone off nearby, and yet seemingly innocuous—as though it had no destructive force. Everyone near the pond, however, magically inclined or not, could feel the ground shake a little underneath their feet, as though something were shifting underground...
     
    #1 Brovo, Dec 17, 2015
    Last edited: Feb 18, 2016
  2. Samuel Mourn de Vandestryker en Karnarvon the 4th.
    It Begins with a Pond.

    Samuel was enjoying the sunlight of the day as the heavy footsteps of Waral stomped along the road with him stretched out on a cloth chair he had made to hang upon it's crown and horns, the big lizard taking it stoically as he sung a bawdy little ditty to himself. He kept himself cool with a handheld fan as he indicated the direction to go with his staff when he sensed it, that pulse of magickal energy that drew him like a fly to honey, curiosity guiding him on. It took him only minutes, it seemed that he had already been headed that way, not that many strangers troubled him, 'brip brip' he tapped one horn and the beast turned towards the pond it's heavy footsteps now eagerly, but slowly, headed for the watering hole, the unfortunate Triceratops simply assuming its master was granting it reprieve enough for a drink.
     
  3. Dean Hansen
    Bread and Butter​

    It was the kind of day Dean wished for rain. Not that the bright sun and warm weather could do anything to sour his mood, but days on the road made for sweat filled days in climates like these. He found himself looking at the passing clouds as he walked, thoughts going to Ryker, and wondering just what his master had gotten himself into this time. The note had simply said "Gone out" and initially Dean had waited for his return, but a week's wait was a bit excessive, and so he decided that Ryker was once again leaving him to his own devices. Being separated didn't bother Dean much anymore, a man like Ryker left an impression on those he met and it always gave Dean a bit of a challenge in tracking him down again.

    The only real downside to it all were the long lonely days inbetween. A simple sigh was all he managed before something broke the silence. A familiar clink of metal on metal that set Dean's senses on overdrive. Where had it come from? He kneeled down quickly to limit his own exposure, an echoing voice eventually led him upon quite a scene in front of a small pond. While difficult to determine exactly what had happened before his arrival, the scenario in front of him needed little explanation: A monster of a man grasped a young, pretty, woman by the neck.

    To say he froze would be an understatement. This would be the exact time Ryker would emphasize leaving them alone and minding his own business -no promise of reward for risking his own neck- but something here made it all but impossible for Dean to tear himself away. Instead of acting on his instinct he stayed where he was only to see the man toss the woman aside and into the pond as if she were little else than a pebble. It made him slightly sick to see it, but he was relieved that the woman would have at least a chance to fight now, and Dean could well intervene if she needed help.

    However she never came out. Seconds passed and the pond yielded no activity. No frustrated young girl springing forth from the depths. Dean's mind feared the worst. Limited though his experience may be he knew how quickly a person could drown, and he knew how much easier it was when you weren't expecting to be in water, AND you had just been choked seconds before... not his fondest memories, but useful.

    He couldn't leave the girl to a fate like that. Rewards and glory be damned he couldn't let himself sit idly by any more. He quickly tore off his armor and weapons except his dagger, which may eventually prove necessary. Quick short breaths prepared his lungs for what was to come. With a little luck he'd blow by the giant and dive into the pond without any resistance, but then it was all left to luck at this point anyway. He'd dive in retrieve the girl, and hopefully negotiate a peace with the giant after they emerged.

    It wasn't ideal, but as he rushed towards the pond he wasn't sure what else to do. Fighting this beast alone would serve a predictable end, and saving damsels in distress was essentially his bread and butter these days. He finally reached the edge of the pond, hopefully unnoticed, at least without being stopped, and prepared to dive in where he'd seen the girl sink.
     
  4. Amaia Nekane

    A gap in the brush gave Amaia a decent view of the pond, and more importantly the woman kneeling in front of it. She hadn't been able to get a good look when the cloaked woman had passed her by a couple minute ago, just a quick glance at the side of her face, but that had been enough to pique Amaia's interest: the cloaked woman in that brief glance had looked absolutely lovely, the kind of face that a painter would kill to capture on canvas, and she had to know if that had been a trick of the dim light or a single moment in the life of a living work of art. Following the woman had probably been creepy and somewhat predatory, but she just couldn't help it. It was her curse, her one vice that she actually cared to see as a problem, and she rarely managed to overcome it. Whenever she saw an exceptional specimen of beauty, be they man or woman or something else altogether, she found herself drawn in and floundering like a ship caught in a whirlpool.

    Another person came into view just as Amaia was contemplating moving forward to speak to the woman, or at the very least circle round the pond to find a better viewing angle. Seeing the woman's immediate violent reaction to the man's approach, she was glad she hadn't gone ahead with the bolder strategy on this one and ended up with blades in her chest. She grumbled in frustration as she watched the altercation play out, cursing the big man for his bulk getting in the way of a clear view of the cloaked woman's face. Amaia considered going to the woman's aid for a moment, but given the man's plate armor and apparent strength she really didn't like her chances. Instead she remained crouched in the bushes, watching and straining to listen, catching enough of the man's words to hear he had some kind of companion and had something to do with the King's Rangers.

    Amaia had figured at first that the woman was simply staying underwater while swimming away from the armored lummox, but after a few seconds she realized she couldn't see any other ripples or bubbles that would accompany such an effort. She was just standing and reaching up to remove her cloak, intending to dash by the brute and jump in to save the woman, when she spotted someone else who'd apparently had the same idea: a man running toward the pond . He looked a strong enough lad to do a better job at saving a drowning person than Amaia herself would be able to manage, so instead she changed her plan on the fly. If that armored man wanted to see the woman dead then he would likely interfere with a rescue attempt, so her best shot at helping would be to run distraction. It would be just like a normal day of her childhood, distracting shopkeeps to give a friend an opening to snatch something and run, but these days she had better tools to work with.

    She grabbed two of her small throwing knives and focused for a brief moment to channel magic into them, drawing on the essence of the earth to harden the blades for a short time, hopefully enough to keep them from breaking on impact with the big man's plate armor. They almost certainly wouldn't pierce the plate even with the magical boost, but of course that wasn't necessary for the sake of distraction. Amaia hurried forward, past the bush she'd been using as cover, and threw both knives one after another at the large man, aiming for his torso. She followed them up with a shout to further draw his attention: "Oi, shit for brains, I'm gonna carve your cock off and shove it down your throat!"
     
  5. Baldrik Larsson

    A supper disturbed by wails.
    Baldrik Larsson was doing his usual camping preparations as he kicked his backpack off his back. He settled his walking stick- or, to be more exact: his Musket, next to a hollow tree tusk. He placed his hand inside his makeshift backpack, and tugged at it a couple of times- until at last, he got his bed roll out. This motion caused him to glance over at his right arm- the soft skin that once occupied it was not all but gone- only the rough touch of hide was left. He gave off a sigh, another typical thought tossed out of his skull. But he had to remain focused, atleast for a bit longer. He looked over towards the small campfire that he had made using a few nearby stones and twigs as fuel- the fire burning rather easily after using one of his Flintlock pistol's, well, Flint, to strike a match up and get the fire started. Relatively small in size, the smoke it'd produce would be too thin to be noticeable, unless you were 30 meters or so away. He took out a small bowl made out of clay, and settled it close by- it's shape was already occuppied by what appeared to be fermented fish with whole onions on the side. Not his most favourite of dishes, but he would eat it: after all, his quest was too important to just surrender to the lack of proper foods...

    He had to keep up the search, no matter what would come: hell fire or the Devil- or Archangel, himself: he couldn't stop his search. It was far too important. As Baldrik was making his final preparations, and shoved his right hand into the bowl to take out some of the fermented fish: he felt a sudden shook from the ground disturb him and his meal. He quickly looked over South- that's the general area of where the Pond would be located. No less than 50 or so meters away. Perhaps it was something of importance..? But his search for over a year with no yields had told him- don't expect good things from walking towards suspicious things. Baldrik decided to let it die down, and reached over towards one of the onions- and took a bite out of it. As he chewed it up, he suddenly heard a wail- he could just barely make out what it was supposed to be.

    Baldrik shot a glance towards the direction once more. That was enough to break his concentration. He set the bowl aside with care, close to the camp fire. He stomped out the campfire and reached over for his musket and backpack. He hoisted the backpack up to his back once more, securing it with a strap against each of his shoulders. He had to hurry up- it sounded like some proper trouble was going on, and... Kouri, she wouldn't forgive him if he was going to let innocents get attacked whilst claiming to be a royal guard. As he began to march over towards the area, he had already grasped gunpowder from his belt, and a lead ball from his sack. He poured the gunpowder down the barrel of his musket at a steady pace, before seizing such action. Then, the ball went down the pipe, and of course- he rammed it down properly to ensure it wouldn't missfire. Lastly, some gunpowder down to the side where the flint would strike to cause the explosion. He cocked his Musket back, and marched until he was at the same pond he was at previously. This time- occupied by people. He decided it would be for the bes to step out and show himself- as he tried to examine what had just happened, his grip on his rifle tightening as he slowly lowered it down. He hollared out-

    "What's going on..? And just as a heads up, It's loaded: I have no ill intentions, unless someone charges me." And he certainly meant that. He had shot a rough amount of five men during his visit here, and thirteen animals, since he last spoke to someone without having to fight or curse. Now, he wanted to talk, and not walk. And yet, now when he looked down at his gun: he came to a shock. He had forgotten to re-attach his bayonett to it. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to forget the most important tool... He would have to rely on his sacred artifact- the sword of his ancestor, if they came too close. For now, he tried to slow down his breathing to try to look like he was calm: although he was quite personally pissed at himself.
     
  6. Kalemn Weller

    At first, Kalemn had been content to simply watch the happenings from where she lay across the pond, chunks of apples crunching between her teeth. Armoured men taking advantage of lone, wandering women was nothing eventful, and Kalemn felt confident the sword resting next to her, combined with her highly obvious scars, would discourage them from trying to drag her into the action.

    Admittedly, the woman immediately pulling out throwing daggers caught her off guard, and the man's mention of being a King's Ranger put her right back on guard, but it still wasn't too odd of a situation. Not until people began pouring out the ground like someone had just stepped on a hornet's nest.

    As the situation grew increasingly chaotic and charged, Kalemn sat up, feet drawn up and knees splayed like a frog. With another bite taken from her apple, she prepared to enjoy the show from a respectable distance.
     
  7. Hello child, my name is Sisera.
    Stop ignoring me
    How is your youngest feeling today your Majesty?

    Father! She is such a delightful child! I can't help but adore her
    No! She will not leave us so soon!



    Here I gather to you
    on a cold morning dew
    to pray, to beg, to plead
    til my throat's sore and bleads
    spare the child of blue
    and take me through and through
    and with this deed
    let her be freed


    Hello your highness, care for a stroll?

    Kouri! You can't go there! Your Father will be very upset
    Ha! Come here you. You're such a pain. Stop Giggling. No I'm not laughing!
    Here, I'll read you something. Pick a story.
    Sorry I'm late Mi'lady. Was training with the guards.
    Alright, get on my shoudlers. Come on now.


    I brought some fruits from the market.
    Alright, I'll show you some fire.
    Anyone can learn, especially if they start young.
    Your posture needs to be like this dear, helps with the breathing
    Remember: Foul footwork leads to fatalities. Balance is the key
    Arms, then wrists, followed by palms and then fingers.
    You're getting the hang of it.
    Ice? Well okay.


    Here are all my books, you can borrow them
    I think you can make the shard bigger. Remember the breath.

    Much better. You're catching on.


    You know I won't be able to teach you much more.


    It's getting late Kouri, I have to go.
    Alone again? How fitting for you


    My apologies Kouri, my father is getting on in years. He must be looked after.
    Don't be Upset


    Your Majesty Sir, my father is too ill to attend court. I hope I am a suitable replacement for today.

    A broken toy
    Thats what you are



    Why are your eyes Ah, Princess, it is nice to see you.
    So full of lies I hope court is not a bore for you
    Well I must be going. Please excuse me your highness.



    HOLD OUT! HOLD OUT! HOLD OUT TIL THE LAST BREATH LEAVES YOUR CORPSES!
    ONLY THEN WILL YOUR FEALTY BE COMPLETE!


    Begin the Ritual! The Princess must have time to escape. Bait them! BAIT THEM!

    Kouri... be safe.

    fin

    ally frag


    mented






    Because a Broken toy is what
    you are



    The sound of the wood hitting the dirt with that soft thump mile after mile was so calming, pleasing perhaps even hypnotic to Sisera. It made him feel more in tuned with nature, like he was part of the natural order. His father would have rolled his eyes at such sentiments but Sisera was just happy to get off the main road. His walking stick would instead make that clank sound whenever it hit the rock. Which seemed so irritating in comparison to the lush green grass that permeated throughout the woods.

    He was searching for a pond to refill his waterskin, a woodsman a few miles back told him that there was a local water source that was filled with clean, strong water. Though the woodsman, ever superstitious warned that there “be strange magic” that dwelt in the pond. Which in all honesty simply peaked Sisera's curiosity as to what he possibly meant. For one of the few things that hadn't changed over the years was his love for magic and that urge to simply learn more.

    He felt a small breeze tickle his thick robe as he headed out into the opening where he saw the pond. Something felt odd... in a famliar sense. He instantly knew the woodsman was telling the truth, but this feeling was more than some magic aura. It felt, nostalgic and a sense of longing began to quietly brew for something he simply didn't recognize. He approached the water and cupped his hands for a taste and after a quick licking of his lips began to greedily fill up the flask to its absolute limit. He wanted to hold onto this for as long as he could.

    Sisera had retreated to a nearby tree to briefly rest before continuing his journey, the next town would be a few extra miles since he decided to go through the woods but he didn't care. Anything to get off the damn road and get rid of that clinking of the stones on his stick. While finishing a lite meal of foraged berries he looked at the pond and raised his eyebrows at the sudden group of people getting larger and larger. A bandit group?! Sisera suddenly thought, panicked. But then he saw they were fighting each other. One girl had lashed out against a tall man in armor and was thrown in the pond and more kept coming out with very... threatening body language to say the least. He even saw one man appear with one of those... erm... gunpowder weapons Sisera thinks they were called.

    Under his robe, with a sudden flick of his fingers smoke began to form. Hiding itself under his robe and ready to burst out should things get ugly and he needed to make a quick distraction. He felt the sheathe of his broadsword dangle around his waist. Reminding him to do what was necessary if his life was threatened. He almost regretted coming to the pond, but that sense of familiarity he felt made him grateful that-even now-he was here.

    Sisera sniffed the air, though no one could see the smoke yet, it could certainly be smelt. He would be noticed sooner or later.

     
    #7 Slade, Dec 18, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 18, 2015
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  8. Zhong LiWei - No Incident, No Lesson.

    One thing LiWei liked about the landscape was the quiet. He couldn't deny the quiet of the place. He hadn't come here before, but that it was often the path was attractive to him. It made him feel, too, as if he were more off the path by stepping into the grass. He had secluded himself underneath a tree for some rest. He'd been walking for a long while and this looked like a quiet enough place- the grass was high to hide his body and he would be able to hear people as they waded through. He set down his backpack, laid down underneath a tree, and flopped his hat onto his face. Perfect.

    A splash. Not small enough for a fish or a stone- as if a deer had fallen in. It woke him but he didn't move. Perhaps it was just some animal. He didn't see people when he arrived. However, with the hat in his face, he couldn't see the sun either. Perhaps more people had moved into the area while he slept. It struck him as strange, as he didn't exactly see a wealth of well-trodden roads. The whole area suggested isolation.

    Then something rattled the ground. If LiWei wasn't awake before, he definitely was now. The faint tremor disquieted him for more than the natural concern of the earth moving under one's feet. He felt that shaking in his very runes, an eerie sensation he hoped he would never experience again, like a burst of slime in the veins and muscles where his flesh once ended in stumps. Still, he did not move. He listened for some kind of sign. He could hear the sounds of many people, now. Too many bodies moving to count them.

    "Oi, shit for brains, I'm gonna carve your cock off and shove it down your throat!"

    Well, that was at least one person. The sound of something bouncing off metal struck him as something further to investigate, and so he finally sat up, putting the hat back on his head.

    "What's going on..? And just as a heads up, It's loaded: I have no ill intentions, unless someone charges me."


    If nothing else, that made LiWei move a bit faster. More than anything else was the smell of smoke. It was lucky he happened to be downwind. The smoke put him on edge; it was sure sign of a fire. Without the sound or sight of flames, it might just sneak up on him- no. He mustn't think those things. He tensed his hands, made sure he could still feel his feet, and hauled on his bag.

    He moved towards the scene, making no hint at hiding himself. No point, now. The first person he happened across was a woman sitting a respectable distance away, eating an apple and watching as if a spectacle. The idea of it made him a little uneasy; perhaps this person was in charge of whatever was going on in here. He approached her casually, standing by her. A thought struck him- only peasants squatted- which he brushed away. He spoke, his voice as deep as it was soft. Hopefully his accent wouldn't be too bad. "Good day. How many are in the fighting? I did not know there was so many people here. I should have chose a better spot to nap..." He smiled to her, and looked out- how many people were here? In the distance he could see a big, hulking lizard like he had never seen before. Closer, a woman and two- no, three- men. A person by the pond. But who was wielding fire? That made him the most uneasy.
     
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  9. Wanderer Rahim
    A Confusing Lunch.


    [ * ]​

    For the last half-a-day, Rahim had made a home of the lake’s edge. The wandering giant had been drawn to the pond by an old legend he had heard as he passed through a village. Apparently, the lake had some strange properties to it. Rahim had yet to see anything spectacular about the lake, apart from a strange sense of importance. It was nothing more than a gut feeling, and yet he felt himself inexorably drawn into staying for at least the next dawn.

    Slowly, Rahim tended to the disposal of a tiny campfire. Next to it, nestled on rocks, was the cooked carcass of a rabbit, and a pair of charred fish. The fish had been purchased in a nearby village: the same village in which he’d heard of the supposedly mythical lake. Rahim had offered to trade the fisherman a talisman, or to teach him how to make a decent snare trap, but the man had only been interested in trading for the metal circles that people seemed to obsess over in the open-lands. He had handed the man a bag of the useless metal coins for the two fish. He had gotten the coins from his old troupe, who had said it was ‘for services rendered.’ Initially, he had thought the little sack of two-hundred circles was useless. Now though, he was glad he had managed to trade for the two fish. He could only hope that the salesman was not disappointed with the transaction.

    While he was eating a haunch of rabbit, Rahim watched the altercation between Marcus and Mikan with interest. He had not noticed Mikan’s existence before the tall man approached. Perhaps because he was mostly watching for people that looked like they might be threats. The fact that he had failed to see her approach the lake was either a worrying feat of stealth on her part; or a crippling sign of inattentiveness on his.

    As the fight –if you could even call it that – started and then ended, Rahim shrugged. The woman’s death would be well deserved; she had attempted to stab the heavily armoured man unprovoked, after all. He wondered if she was a bandit, or just desperate. The thought that she might be a bandit had him slightly more alert, as he reached out to grasp the familiar handle of his great-axe, only an inch or so to his left. When Marcus threw the woman into the pond, he raised an eyebrow in confusion. ‘How strange: why would he not just break her neck and be done with it?’ he said, continuing to nibble on rabbit meat. In his mind, Marcus was well within his rights to have killed the woman for her attack. If anyone else had approached the woman, they likely would not have survived two daggers to the gut. The woman was quick, though. Quick and stealthy made him leaning more towards bandit than vagabond.

    After the woman was thrown into the pond, all hell seemed to break loose. One man rid himself of weapon and armour, intent on saving the ‘damsel’ who had nearly stabbed a man for getting near her; then there was a man with some sort of strange stick, shouting something or other about the being loaded; and then there was the woman with the daggers. She seemed to throw them at the man in the armour, despite the fact that the other woman’s daggers had been completely ineffective. Bah. All these distractions while I am eating… Picking up one of the small bones from the pile of devoured rabbit remains, Rahim aimed up a quick shot and lobbed the small white projectile at the foul-mouthed woman’s head. He would have aimed with something heavier, but he wasn’t intent on injuring anyone: at least not yet.

    You, knife-wielding woman, are you a bandit?” he said, in as dead-pan a voice as could be mustered. He slowly rose to his full, magnificently tall height as he dragged the great-axe up with him. A seven-foot plus giant of a man looked over at the group of people who were causing the ruckus: An axe the size of a child in one hand, and the half-eaten remains of a rabbit’s hind leg in the other. “Well? Be quick and answer. I need to know if I should kill you, or continue eating.

    Amaia turned only her head to face the bone thrower, brows first rising in surprise then dropping back down in a fierce furrow as she spotted his size and his pointed ears. "Go back to your food, knife ears. I'm no bandit and I've no business with your kind."

    Rahim paused for a second, contemplating the fact that this woman was attempting to insult him. He had heard the term ‘Knife-ears’ be used for elves before, but he was clearly no elf. Elves were frail, and easily broken. He considered the idea of continuing the conversation, but shrugged it off as unimportant. Slowly, Rahim lowered himself back into a seated position. He lay the great-axe back at his side once more, and started to nibble at his rabbit. I hope the armoured one throws her in the water also. It would be funny to watch.

    Rahim sniffed the air, scenting something confusing. He thought he could smell smoke; although he quickly dismissed it as nothing more than the lingered embers of his little fire-pit. Ignoring the smokey smell, he simply watched; wondering when the woman in the lake would resurface, and where. She was clearly smart for holding her breath and hiding where she’d come up; otherwise the armoured-one would be able to cut her off. Things had gotten rather noisy, rather quickly.
     
  10. Pat the Postman
    & Jess
    Also Samuel Mourn de Vanderstryker en Karnarvon the 4th
    A Colab with Kadaeux

    Pat was returning from a special delivery to the Liverian border, a prominant family in the centeral villages had paid him a double bonus to ensure a fast delivery of a small unmarked pckage to an antiques store in the town. Hehad stayed at an inn in town overnight and left early in the morning, just as the day was dawning. He was now returning home at a somwhat more leasiurly pace than his previous journey, chewing on a bread roll whille listening to the birds singing. There was a pond a little ways off the road up ahead that he sometimes stopped at, he planned to pause there for a time and let Jess have a drink and rest. All in all he felt he was pretty happy with the day thus far.

    ... Then the ground shook. Pat had only felt such a thing once before, when a visiting circus had been in Liveria, he had taken a day to head deeper into the country and see the spectical, the ground had shook under the feet of an enormous grey skinned creatur with tusks, an elephant the circus master had called it. Pat hardly expected to find such a beast out here though, nore did the shaking feel quite the same. It was also carrying on longer than with the elephant.

    There was however little Pat could do about the shaking so he directed Jess to continue on towards the pond, as he came aupon the path leading off the road proper he saw hadead oh him a large lizard of some kind, with a man riding it, at least he thought it was man, it was dificult to tell from behind. While the lizard he was riding looked rather heavy and shared similarities with the elephant, Pat suspected it wasn't the scource of the grounds shaking. Aside from riding a large lizard the stranger didn't look terribly frightening, so with care to keep a little distance to the side, at least as much as he could on the dirt path, Pat urged Jess to ride up beside the beast. "Excuse me sir, If I may ask, what manner of creature is that you are riding?"

    Still on the cloth chair strung across the headplate and horns of the dinosaur Samuel turned to face the stranger. "A big Lizard, I call him Waral. I 'picked it up' in a swamp a while back." He wondered why the peasant would be speaking to a noble, but it was a lovely day and he wasn't begging for coin so why not indulge the man.

    "He looks like a fine beast." Pat said, not quite sure what else to say, particularly when he had no real fram of reference for the creature. "Did you happen to notice the ground shake a moment ago sir?"

    Samuel relaxed. "I did. I'm headed towards the source now, a definite trace of magical about it. And I think Waral needs a drink."

    "Jess could do with the same," Pat said as he patted Jess' neck breifly, "The pond ahead is typically a nice quiet stop to take a rest, cant say I know about anyhting magical there, though ive stopped by many a time on my rounds." Pat said to Samuel. "Name's Pat Quinn, A post rider by trade."

    "My name is Samuel Mourn de Vanderstryker en Karnarvon the 4th, from the Kingdom of Dreams by birth. High Summoner by trade." He nodded to the polite peasant. It was such a rare event. "At leas..." He cocked his head. "What is all that noise?"

    Pat looked towards the pond as he also listened, he noticed the birds had stopped signing as well, likely when the shaking had happenedhe thought. He was however, now that Samuel had mentioned it hearing shouting from the pond. "Seems we will not be alone at the pond today, trader caravans stop here occasionally, an argument between drivers maybe?" Pat suggested.

    Samuel shrugged. "Probably some peasants squabbling over a love triangle with a chicken they both claim to own." He snorted. "May as well find out anyway."

    Pat simply nodded and continued towards the pond,with samuel riding his lizard beside him. Pat reigned in and stopped as more people came into view. To say he was suprised would be an understatement. the only time Pat had ever seen this many people at the pond was when he had come upon two trade caravans both stopping for the night. The sight of a hulking dark armoured man and a woman trying to pick a fight with him while a giant of a man across the way a little sat eating some cooked meat., another map with a long stick of some kind seemingly on the verge of panicing while more people watched from the other side of the pond.

    Samuel's reaction was a raised eyebrow. "Did we just walk into a bandit ambush, or some sort of abstract comedy?" He asked of the peasant riding alongside him.

    Pat almost didn't realise Samuel had spoken at first. He wasn't entirely sure that the best option wasn't just to turn around and ride back to the road at this point. "I ah... I honestly don't know..." Pat replied as he kept Jess steady. a slight shift i the wind brought the sent of smoke to his nostrils, which only confused him more as it did not apeear than any of those around the pond had a fire going strong enough for smoke to issue. "Do you smell smoke?" Pat asked Samuel almost absently.

    "A bit." Samuel said as Waral continued moving having spotted the pond and intent on getting a drink. "Bloody hell." Samuel climbed off of Waral's horns expertly before the Triceratops dumped him in the pond by trying to drink.

    Pat stayed at the point where the path met the pondsclearing and stared at the scene unfolding around him, not yet ready to leave, but not really sure if he should intervene either. This was not what he had expected at all when he climbed up on Jess that morning.

    What Pat Sees (open)
    [​IMG]
     
    #10 Gat, Dec 19, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 22, 2015
    • Love Love x 2
  11. Tahlia Wether
    Renaltan Remnants


    Her back stiffened as she felt a ripple of energy flow past her.

    Faolan's response was immediate—she could feel him tense beneath her, his gait slowing to a halt. Tahlia patted his shoulder gently, reassuring him that there was no immediate danger. Faolan flicked his ears, unconvinced, and sniffed the air, listening intently. After a few moments of apparent silence, he motioned to the south-east with his head.

    The same direction from which she'd felt the magic emanate.

    Her curiosity getting the better of her, she let out a soft sigh and leaned into his fur. That was the only indication Faolan needed to take off. With the small woman nestled tightly on his back, holding on by virtue of the straps and stirrups saddled to his frame, the wolf tore through the grass with considerable speed. Though perhaps a couple miles away, it did not take long for the two to rise over a hill and catch sight of their destination—a small pond, bustling with activity. It would appear this watering hole was a popular resting spot for travellers. Faolan snarled uneasily.

    In Rheinfeld, she might have had to worry about being caught by the Templar, but she was attempting to turn a new leaf in the Renaltan remnants. If she was too scared to take a drink in the company of strangers, she'd hardly be doing herself any good.

    Dismounting and nudging the direwolf's muzzle playfully, she led him to the pond, regardless of his apprehension.
     
  12. Having walked through the night had been a mistake. While the full moon had kept her company as she quietly sang of her homeland, Kasienka was exhausted in the middle of the day. The waist high grass clung to her leather armor and clothing as she waded through the seemingly unending sea of green and brown. While there was something that vaguely resembled a rough road, Kasienka stayed off of it to avoid company. She had been in a town not even a fortnight ago and the humans had been thankful, but she had been bored with their presence. None of them knew anything of note and their drink was weak.

    While lost in her thoughts Kasienka's feet began to pull her towards a ring of trees to escape some of the heat. Just as she was mulling over what to hunt for her midday meal, she felt the ground tremble beneath her bare feet and travel all the way to the tips of her ears. Before she could question the cause her legs were carrying her towards the source. There was more and more yelling as she neared it, so she dropped her stance to look less imposing and more dainty.

    Once she saw two unrepeated sets of ripples dissipating in the pond she knew there was one thing to do. Rather than scold the naturally belligerent and bombastic men and uncouth woman she dropped her pack next to the pond, shed all but her loose blue tunic and pants, and dove in after the pair. It had been nearly a decade since she had last swam, but her long and strong arms and legs knew all too well how to move her through the water as if she was simply moving through the grass again. After not even half a minute she knew something was wrong, that she should have found them already, but her arms and legs moved so easily and her lungs felt no pain, so she continued to search for the couple. They couldn't have simply disappeared and the people on the shore were simply too loud for her to be near them just yet.
     
  13. "Did we just walk into a bandit ambush, or some sort of abstract comedy?"
    -Samuel, Page 1.​

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    (( Collaborative post between @Orion & @Brovo ))​

    Dean would feel himself being pulled down to the bottom of the pond as he dived after the girl, a strange, though imperceptible energy seeming to resonate through the entire pond at his presence. A few moments passed before he was dragged to the bottom, where he promptly fell through it, and hit the floor of a rocky, icy cavern. The first thing he would hear, would be the sound of a woman scrambling for her blade on the floor. Looking up, he would be able to see the girl, and a frozen block of ice. "Wer zum Teufel bist du!? (Who the hell are you!?)"

    It was a surreal feeling as he sank into the room before finally falling flat on his face. Ignoring the girl who was scrambling for her blade Dean looked up as he rubbed his now sore jaw. "The hell was that... this some sort of scam?" As he peered out of the ceiling of the cavern he saw clear up through to the pond and it dawned on him suddenly. "Shit. Magic then, isn't it?" He said as a grin spread across his face. He liked magic.

    He finally rested his eyes on the girl and the sight of her knife threw him into a bit of a panic, she spoke the Rheinfeld tongue like a native, which didn't help the situation at all Dean caught maybe every other word, and it didn't paint a very clear picture of what she had said. Nearly fumbling for his own dagger, but thinking better of it he brought his hand to his heart in mock agony. "Ma'am you wound me. Do you threaten all of your would be heroes like this?"

    She hesitates, then slowly lowers her dagger. She was breathing heavily, her pulse was racing, as the soft look across her face looked out of place for a brigand. She jumps as the ice cracks again, then looks at Dean. She seems to struggle to translate the words in her head, then speaks common with an accent. "I thought you were related to whatever this is! Tell me, you're a local, what is this?"

    Peering over the girl's shoulder Dean caught his first look at... whatever IT was. His brow creased as a memory crept it's way to his mind. There was something there but he couldn't figure it out. "Related? I might be stubborn as stone sometimes but I don't think I'm actually related to any pebbles." He took a step closer, trying to get a better look at the block. "Looks old, and a lot like it's breaking apart."

    "Kein Scheiß... (No shit...)" Mikan utters under her breath as she stays a couple feet behind Dean, blade kept at the ready, superstition clear in her eyes. "Do you think it is a lich?... Maybe... Someone trapped there?" The ice cracks again, and Mikan flinches, before Dean would notice the outer layers starting to melt at a fair pace, water droplets forming and rolling down it with ease.

    Dean jumped as another crack rang through the cavern. "Probably... Gotta be something bad to be locked away right?" He said not without his own hysteria. "The hell did you do to wake it anyway?" The thought sprang to mind as an obvious question. Who springs such an obvious trap? Squinting to try and get a better look at the thing, water began running off the sides of the block, and Dean was starting to make out a more comely figure. ".... then again." He said slightly under his breath.

    "Hey! I was thrown in here face first by some edgy wannabe Templar! How is this my fault?" She almost seemed distracted by the offense to miss the ice melting, but after a moment, she blinks and takes a few steps back. "Uhh... I don't trust this..."

    "Fair point..." he managed to rattle off before another crack from the ice rang out. The ice was almost coming off in whole layers at this point. Despite the brave persona he wanted to show to this rather attractive woman, Dean found himself distancing himself along with her. "Whatever it is I doubt it'll take kindly to a knife drawn at it when it wakes... Hide it, and leave the talking to me maybe."

    Mikan glances at her blade, and flourishes it around her hand for a moment, before sheathing it in a quick manner. Her pulse was racing and her eyes wide, darting around at every slight movement or sound. It was clear she did not appreciate the situation she was in, and didn't understand it in the slightest.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Marcus continued to look into the water of the pond, searching with confusion as the girl he had thrown in had vanished from sight. He then turns to see a boy running for it, and before he could step in to try and prevent anyone from further disturbing the pond, a pair of daggers strike his armoured back. Marcus stumbles as the boy dives in, and quickly disappears, same as the girl had. "Dammit," Marcus mutters under his breath and grits his teeth as he turns and tosses his cloak aside to reveal the plate mail. Beyond that, as his head lacked a helmet, it revealed his dark red skin, and matching red eyes with black hair: He was a Tiefilng, a descendant of demons and mortals breeding, usually involuntarily. Before he could step forward to intercept that threat however, further potential enemies entered the fray: A man with a gun, a bandit who thought her position far stealthier than it actually was, a strange foreign man with an admirable calm given the tension, a large and dangerous looking wild man, and the smell of... Smoke?

    Marcus clears his throat as he realized he had to try and make some sense of the situation. It was strange to have so many around, but perhaps it was a stroke of misfortune, an act of Fate, simple coincidence... Perhaps it was simply a higher than usual level of traffic, given that this was a good resting spot. He had, after all, seen entire trade caravans rest here before. He had left his real weapon behind, and he grunted with amusement at that thought, so he simply reached for his arming sword and unsheathed it. A one handed blade that, given to a man his size, seemed almost like a short sword. Yet, he avoided threatening gestures with it, instead pointing it toward the ground, and motioning with his free hand towards each person in turn.

    First, the gunslinger, as he seemed the most imposing. Marcus speaks up, loudly. "I know your weapon, though many here are ignorant of it. I know its limitations. The odds of you hitting my head at that range are slim, and I can run faster angry than you can scared... So save your threats for peasants who don't know better." He then pauses, and adds one last thing, so as to avoid seeming like an aggressive fool. "Know however that I am no threat to you, and do not wish to fight. I merely protected myself."

    He turns his gaze, and his pointing finger, toward the woman who attacked him. "Try such an attack as that again, and I shall gladly grant you the death you seem to be longing for, fool." He spits on the grass in her direction, making it clear that his patience had limits. Normally, he'd have attempted diplomacy if it would have been a one on one fight, but he knew Jaro would have been ready to launch an attack with him. Two against one, and she seemed a poor man's wizard: No chance for her.

    He then turns and glances toward the foreigner and the bandit, both of whom stuck out like sore thumbs. He saw the foreigner's lips move, but was too far to properly overhear anything.

    Looking toward the wild man, he snorts and shakes his head. "No need. I'm sure the woman is not so foolish as to start a fight with someone such as I, and hope to win." He then hears the water behind him in the pond splash again, and turns just in time to see another woman darting past the surface, deeper in, and quickly vanishing as the boy and girl had before. "... Do people simply have a death wish today?" He says aloud, raising an eyebrow with amusement. Then, he noticed a person riding a strange, large lizard in the distance, and a letter carrier who he had seen a few times before in his life. "This is starting to seem beyond the realm of coincidence... Something must have drawn people here... Magic, perhaps." He once again speaks aloud, as he glances at everyone around. This entire situation unsettled him...

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    A few moments later, about ten feet behind Dean & Mikan, another woman falls through the bottom of the pond and hits the floor. An elf--in a blue tunic and pants--was now recovering from her trip through the water. Mikan unsheathes one of her daggers again and points it toward the newcomer, hand shaking, as she backed away from Dean as well. "Warum. Warum? Ich hasse das! Kann der Vater hab Erbarmen mit mir! (Why. Why? I hate this! May The Father have mercy on me!)" It was clear from the way her tone shook that she was on the verge of panicking.

    Then, the ice breaks apart completely, falling into several large chunks as the figure from within glows with a bluish hue. Mikan ducks down and screams in terror as a few shards of ice fly past her and strike the cavern wall. None of them hit the occupants in the cavern, as the figure slumps forward. "Oh Götter wir alle sterben! (Oh Gods we are all going to die!)" Mikan started officially panicking, as she holds her blade tightly, terror gripping her body. Yet, the figure didn't appear threatening.

    It quickly became apparent to all three of them that the figure was a woman, wearing a blue dress. The dress was made of a high quality, beyond that of lesser nobility and very easily entering the realm of upper nobility. She seemed unnaturally attractive, even as she laid, coughing hard from what was presumably an uncomfortable experience. Blue hair draped around her neck and shoulders as she slowly got onto her hands and feet, breathing heavily. Her hair obscured her face, as she wasn't looking up yet, though, just from her appearance, Dean and Kasienka could both recognize the description from the many, myriad myths of Renalta. This was either the princess of legend, or a damn good lookalike.

    As the figure emerged from behind, just as he had, Dean's attention was drawn to the woman's hand as it flashed and suddenly produced yet another blade. Quickly he went to chiding the woman. "I thought I said hide that thing? Are you going to-" The ice cracked suddenly behind him and he turned to face the now cracked remains of the ice block and the blue light emanating from within them.

    If he were less in control of himself his jaw may have hit the ground. He swung idly at the head of the panicked woman. "You ever heard of a lich that looked like that?" He stood half dumbstruck at the sight before him, but he couldn't stare slack jawed any longer and he forced himself to focus. Speaking somewhat louder he intended to get the woman's attention, but what did you say to a fabled Princess? "Uhhhhh. Hello?" He waved, obviously uncomfortable with the situation presented.

    After a few more seconds of catching her breath, the princess takes a slow, deep breath, and calms her nerves. Though she finally climbs to her feet, her legs start to wobble a little. One of her hands goes to her head as she closes her eyes tightly, a bit of pain clearly visible across her soft features as she was still regaining her composure. "I... I don't recognize your voice." She slowly opens her eyes, revealing blue irises, just as the princess of legend was described as having: Blue eyes, blue hair, blue dress. "... Who are you?"

    Meanwhile, Mikan notices a bit of frost emanating from the princess' fingers, and immediately starts speaking in a panicked tone. "Magie?!? Nein! Hör auf damit, Hexe! (Magic?!? No! Stop it, witch!)" The princess' attention immediately turns to Mikan, surprise in her eyes as she raises a hand and, in one smooth motion, throws a small bolt of ice that strikes Mikan's blade. Mikan drops it in surprise and shock, as ice covered the blade with sufficient weight to make it hard for her to hold properly anymore, but there was no malice in the attack so far as Dean could discern: It was intentionally done to disarm, not to wound. "I am obviously out of touch, if the tongue of Gault should be one of the first things to grace my ears, in my lands."

    Dean chuckled as the blade flew from the little bandits hand, and noting the the show of magic had put her into an even greater panic Dean started to wonder how long before she just up and fainted. "I don't suspect you'd have any reason TO recognize my voice. I only just met you and I'm not entirely sure I'm not drowning and this is just some strange dream..." The three women surrounding him certainly looked as if they could have stepped directly from his wildest fantasies, even the panicked one in her own way held a certain beauty. He shrugged, deciding if it were a dream it couldn't hurt to humor it. "Either way though my name is Dean....."

    The things she had said made no sense. Was there some kind of delusion that magic users could suffer? He wasn't sure, but magic couldn't make for a very sound mind. He'd heard plenty of story concerning hermits seeking unlimited magical power who'd ended up as lunatics afterall. "Buuut" He continued "That." He said with a gesture towards the girl currently curling further and further into a fetal position. "Isn't Gault. It's Rheinfelder, she thinks you're a witch... With good reason I might add... so I fear this may all be a bit much for her." He bit his bottom lip for a moment, thinking over his words. "That last bit about these being your lands though... I think I'll let that slide as a cold induced mania? Is that a thing?" He continued to ponder how this could possibly make sense. The woman in front of him was no where near 1000, and it was easier to believe in strong moonshine than fairy tale princesses.

    "Cold induced mania?" The princess mutters aloud, quietly. Confusion was clearly stricken across her face. "How long has it been since the fall of my--... The Kingdom of Renalta?"

    Finally, Mikan struggled to her feet, having had a few moments to calm herself. "A-A thousand years... So does that mean you're Kouri?... That princess of legend?"

    The princess, still feeling physically weak, falls onto her knees, and bows her head. "A thousand years... That would mean everyone I knew is gone..." She looks past them, and to the water above their heads. "... I have to see this, myself." Her hands once again light up with a blue energy, as she stands and starts weaving magical energy to freeze the pond from the bottom up. "I will get us out of here first. Then... Then I..." A look of immense emotional pain was clearly visible in her eyes, and in the way her lips curled. "Then I can ask more questions." She glances toward Mikan, and frowns. "I'm sorry to have scared you. What is your name?" Mikan blushes a little, then looks down at her icy blade. "Mikan. I'm just a nobody though." Kouri forces a small smile to reach her lips, and nods. "Every hero starts somewhere, Mikan." She looks to the elf and the man who had spoken with her earlier. "Dean is a nice name... And, what's your name?" She asked the elf quietly.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Above the pond, where everyone else was standing, the water was starting to freeze into ice, from the bottom, to the top. As it did, they could see four figures standing below the ice, though they could make out no features about them. Marcus, startled, takes a couple steps back, before realization dawned on his face. He takes another couple steps back, his face looking pale, his eyes wide, as he yelled out for his comrade: Any veil of a disguise, at this point, he was throwing away. "JARO! IT IS HAPPENING! AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS!" He looks around at everyone, and motions for them to stay back. "I DO NOT KNOW WHAT SORT OF MAGIC THIS IS, BUT KNOW THAT A KING'S RANGER IS COMPELLING YOU TO STAY AND WITNESS THIS!" He finally ceases yelling, and speaks with a certain level of amazement. "This moment should not be forgotten."
     
    #13 Brovo, Dec 21, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 22, 2015
    • Love Love x 2
  14. Jaro


    Secure the perimeter! The order ran through Jaro's mind as he watched from the grass; numerous people appearing at the pond. How...? Shaking his head with the rustle of chainmaille on steel plate, Jaro rose up, revealing another figure of full plate, wearing a heavy cloak of mottled brown and greens, which had apparently kept him hidden enough from the strange cluster of people who seemed to be arriving all at once. Revealed, the suit of plate appeared to be made of some quality, but aged with a dull patina of care, attention, and some heavy use: scars and slightly rough patches where dents had been hammered out, or replacement steel had been welded in to fix a hole.

    His left arm swung back, under the cloak, and pulled free a leather faced shield, edged in brass. The face was undecorated, showing the simple, scarred leather, darkened with age and sealants. however, he did not arm himself with the longsword at his side, as he moved to position himself between the rifleman, and Marcus. The helmed head twisted to look towards Baldrik, as Marcus judged the man's chances, waiting for him to finish, before adding his own voice to the mix, a deep bass with a faint rasp of something..."And I will make the chance to simply hit Marcus quite low indeed. No harm will come to you however, if you simply stand down. I have not drawn steel yet, nor do I wish to shed blood upon this ground."

    His attention was suddenly diverted by Marcus' jubilant exclaim, and Jaro pivoted to watch the pond freeze over, the water rising as it froze from within, creeping further up the banks as it was heaved from below, before the ice caught the furthest reaches. He watched with interest, but perhaps not with the same reverence as his superior, and friend. For Jaro, it was a noble cause, and one worth following. Marcus seemed to exist solely for this cause. Even so, after a thousand years...
     
  15. Alexandra Somer
    Midsummer Melodies

    It had been a long trek from Arian, but the boost to her muse had been well-worth it. Now, she was on her way, back towards Rheinfeld. Through the winding trees, a warm, midsummer breeze blows between the trees and sends her loose hair tickling against her cheek. Around her, the tall grass ripples in waves before her and a soft melody begins to buzz from her throat. She smiles to herself as words begin to form:

    "Along the broken road,
    From Arian, my home..."

    There was a rumble from the ground that traveled up through her feet. A pressure of magic released in a sudden geyser presses upon her from seemingly nowhere.

    "Beneath the em'rald green,
    To lands I've ne'er seen..."

    She hears a din of noise from up ahead. Her interest was beginning to pique slowly. She hefts her bag closer up to her back and continues along. Her feet keep a rhythm for her, crunching on twigs and pebbles and swishing through the grass. Fwish-crunch. Fwish-crunch. Fwish-crunch.

    "To find a lovely girl,
    To fill my lonely world..."

    There was an excited clamor from a gravely baritone ahead. She knew there was a refreshing pond nearby. Some yokels had directed her to it. It was some information she was happy to trade a merry little diddy to hear. They whispered some superstitious nonsense about the area, but that only served to interest her more. Peasantfolk were always scared of things they scarcely understood. Of course, when their superstitions proved founded in reality... Curious things always seemed to happen.

    "By a pond so clear,
    With hea'en in my ear..."

    The clearing was in sight now. There were a number of curious strangers, both foreign and of these lands that had her brows raising. She tucks a stray curling lock back behind her ear and pushes up her tinted glasses. It was a surprise, they said of late few traveled this off-beaten path. Of course, the muse takes you where it willed. She glances up to the sky, curious, and asking LeFay what strange workings had these many people converge. It delighted her deep inside her heart-of-hearts, to think she might have stumbled upon one of the many curiosities of this world. What new tales might she have to tell. Calmly, unsure what the red man had been crying about and ignoring those obviously intent on violence from the way they held themselves, she approaches the pond's edge.

    "I met a pretty thing,
    She sent my heart a'whurl
    And in that clearing ring--"

    She pauses, unslinging her pack and dropping it to the ground as she crouches down, staring into the water's depths. She scrunches up her nose, thinking as she removes her gloves, "Now what rhymes with whurl... Girl, twirl... Merle?" She shakes her head and dips her cupped hands into the depths of the water. Cold as ice, it sends a chill through her. As she raises it to her lips to sip, her eyes light up in sudden wonder as she sees, deep in depths, the waters beginning to frost and freeze. Her jaw hangs open as she raises her gaze to the odd fellows about the pond, a question in her face as to what was at work here.
     
  16. ((A collab post between @West and @Jorick))

    Baldrik Larsson only needed to look over at the girl with the tossing knifes to understand what was going on: some form of an attack on another person. One that he himself wouldn't stand for, personally. His musket's pipe generally pointed in her direction, he could only sense a general presensce of hostility aimed towards him by a few folk- and yet, it was only himself, the knife-tossing girl, the brawly looking guy donning a shortsword- or was that a one handed sword- in his hand. What'd he do? Baldrik thought, and began to glance over towards him. It was at the moment he broke contact with the girl that he realized that there must be more people around than he had previously thought. But he still remainded determined to atleast try to understand the situation more properly. And spoke to the gal who had tossed the knifes. His accent showing that he was obviously not from these parts of the lands.

    "So, what'd he do exactly to be the recipient of such a threat, miss?"

    Amaia was busy staring in awe at the scene unfolding before her and almost missed hearing the man's question. She'd been on the verge of snapping a quick retort to the armored Tiefling scum about how a dagger in the eye would change his tune, but then everything started going even crazier than it had been a few moments ago. The pond was positively swarming with people, someone else had jumped in, and now the damn thing was freezing over. She hadn't needed the Tiefling's yelling to understand something momentous was occurring, but that thousand year comment... Amaia shook her head slowly and kept her eyes on the freezing pond as she answered the silly question.

    "He threw a woman in the pond. I was just distracting him so a man running to help her wouldn't get stopped, aimed for his armor on purpose." She glanced at the gun-wielding man then back at the pond, one of her eyebrows rising in a high arch. "That, uh, misunderstanding seems a little unimportant now though, doesn't it?" She gestured vaguely at the pond to emphasize her meaning.

    "Wait, so that fellow over there caused this?" He took a direct glance over towarsd the man, inspecting his features up and down. It was at that moment when the man's words sinked into him. It was fun to know that someone knew about the gun that he was carrying: on the other hand, he did frown when the man underestimated him. Baldrik knew not to take a shot at this range, but when he got closer... It'd be alot easier. But of course, his words DID carry quite a threat behind them, since Baldrik forgot to mount his bayonett to the damn thing. The man followed up with an explanation to his words, but Baldrik understood it at that point. However, he quickly looked over towards the girl as her words sunk into his mind. "Wait- the lake... It's freezing over... It's been one thousand years to this date since- It's..!" The Word from the other man confirmed his suspicion- as he clearly identified who he was. A King's Ranger. And he wanted them to bear witness to something great. Baldrik himself knew immediately what it ment.

    "Kneel down to the Messiah." Was all that Baldrik dared to say, and he immediatly knelt down, putting his weapon aside and casting away what he had felt previously. His ancestor swore an oath to her, and today: he would finally renew it officially, the bloodline of Larsson shall endure once more the services of her majesty. He looked over towards the girl, and expected her to do the same- as if it was practiced for everyone to swear their allegiance to the one true princess of Renalta- he motioned for her to kneel as well, out of respect.

    Amaia managed to tear her eyes away from the pond for that outpouring of nonsense. She stared blankly at the babbling fellow with the odd stick, brows now both arched high. After a brief moment of silence she shook her head and muttered to herself. "By the gods, has everyone gone mad today?" She grimaced and took a half step back away from the man, now speaking at a normal volume. "I think I'll pass. I'm not in the habit of kneeling down to strange magic at work. That's just making yourself an easy, unmoving target, you know."

    Realizing that she was now babbling, Amaia shook her head sharply and turned her attention back to the pond. Her hands had, at some point that she hadn't noticed, moved on their own to rest on the hilts of her daggers, heavier blades than those she'd thrown at the Tiefling. She left them there, ready to draw steel at a moment's notice, and returned her attention to the freezing pond.

    All that Baldrik could do in response to her was make a firm smirk. "That's not a way to treat her, and I think you know so as well." His comment fortified his belief that this was the moment- the time, her return was going to take place before his eyes, but of course... Normally when you knelt, you'd look down at the ground, but even Baldrik himself had to keep his eyes up to look at the pond (which he did) out of sheer curiosity. What would happen now? Would it signify the time for peace? Only time could properly tell, but one thing he was sure of: Not everyone did support her, so he would have to be cautious about who he reveals the information of her to. And, given that the girl still didn't pay any heed to her, he decided to try and atleast familiarize himself with her. "Say, Knife-Wielder, what does your friends call you? Because it's not a threat awaiting us under the ice."

    "I think you assume too much. I also think you might be playing with a deck that's a few cards short, but seems like that might be normal for folks gathered round the pond today." Amaia kept her hands on her daggers despite the man's insistence that there was no threat. She wasn't about to trust some stranger with an odd accent, and his odd behavior didn't make her feel any more open. Her eyes remained on the pond as she spoke, both to watch for danger and to keep the man from seeing the forthcoming lie in her eyes. "My friends call me lots of things. You can call me Euria. What's your name?"

    "Euria..." Baldrik pondered a bit, as if he had heard that name before: but decided to dismiss it. He nodded to her once, and spoke: "My name's Baldrik. Baldrik Larsson, last of his kind."
     
  17. Kasienka in the Cave
    Collab with Brovo Featuring Mikan and Kouri

    "Kasienka Ellarian, Princess. I cannot tell you how blessed I am by your presence. The world has been waiting for you. Welcome back." Her voice was soft as she spoke, a small smile spreading across her lips as her eyes appeared to mist over, yet the reflection of the water above made it hard to tell, as well the water still dripping from her face and clothes. More than anything the elf wanted to approach the young woman and embrace her, to soothe some of the distress she was clearly feeling.

    Now she took her time to turn to the dark haired woman, as it was clear that the magic Kouri wove was from a school that she wasn't skilled in. She slowly approached Mikan and offered her hand. "Young lady, I understand your fear, yet you have no reason to be scared. Her magic will not hurt you. She's kind. She's gentle. This young man, Dean, and I dove in to retrieve you. You are safe. A few deep breaths will do you good."

    Mikan continues to stare at her feet, and at the frozen blade at her feet. "Yeah, yeah... You say that, but you're one of those elves... All of you are magic, aren't you?"

    The elf tilted her head to the side in an attempt to catch Mikan's eye, even moving to take a half step closer. "I am an elf, Mikan, but my magic has not harmed a soul in well over a century. I try to ensure the wellbeing of those who are sick and hurt. I can assure you that if my magic was harmful you would know." She offered the woman a smile, trying to keep an eye on how far the ice had reached. "If our Lady Princess Kouri allows me permission, I can show you."

    Mikan glances up at Kasienka, rubbing her arms from the cold that was starting to settle into her. Her clothing was entirely inappropriate for an icy cavern--leather shorts that were cut off just above the knees, and a matching shirt that was cut off around her upper forearms. Around her elbows and knees were some sort of strange padding that Kasienka couldn't recognize. "..." Mikan smiles a little slyly, and crosses her arms over her chest. "Alright."

    Kouri glances toward the pair and shakes her head. "Ah. And what kind of magic is that, exactly?"

    "Fatigue relieving. Whatever it is you plan to do will tax you, Princess. I wish to take some of it onto myself so that you might be more able-bodied once you re-enter the modern world." Her gaze was distracted by the padding on Mikan, but soon her eyes drifted up to Kouri's, crystallizing droplets hanging from her eyelashes. Despite the cold, she stood at ease and kept a soft smile.

    Kouri glances over to Kasienka, and then toward the freezing water above her. She takes a deep breath and sighs, slowly, then nods. "Please. I would appreciate it. If it truly has been a thousand years since I last drew breath..."

    Kasienka gave a soft giggle before raising her own hands. She appeared to draw away dark granules away from Kouri's skin that was previously unseen, her fingers curling in as the fine mist now collected in her palms and sunk into her own skin. When she lowered her arms to her sides again she stood a little less tall, but her smile had grown. She turned to focus Mikan then tried to catch her gaze. "And now, if you are convinced I will not harm you, I would like to warm you. You're shivering. You don't need to, if you'd rather not."

    Mikan shakes her head quickly and slinks up against the wall, rubbing her upper arms with her hands to try and warm herself up. "I-I would rather not. I'm fine. N-no magic."

    Now for the first time since Kouri had emerged from the ice Kasienka's smile slipped off her face. Her thin brows briefly knit together before she threw a cautious glance to Dean and sighed. Rather than let the woman catch her death of cold she closed her eyes for a second and pursed her lips before forcing all the water off of herself and her clothing. Her cheeks were rosy from the effort, but soon she lifted her tunic off and tossed it towards the stubborn lady against the frozen wall. She had a plain linen bodice beneath the tunic to hide her form, but this had her revealing more skin than she had for a long time.

    "Then have my tunic. It ought to be long enough to reach past your shorts given my height and their length." She tried to turn the end into a joke, but knew there was a chance it wouldn't be taken well. "The cold will have to try a lot harder to harm me than those of my past have, yet I still stand."

    As the tunic falls onto Mikan's head, she jumps in surprise and grabs each side of it with her hands. She then slowly pulls it down, until only her eyes were peeking over them, to see Kasienka's loosely clothed form. Her eyes focused on Kasienka's rosy cheeks for a moment, then wandered down her neck. "O-Oh." Mikan quietly stuffs herself into the tunic, finding it to be a little oversized around her. "Yeah. Okay. I didn't know that was a pick-up line." She giggles as the back of her foot kicks the wall. "I'll keep that in mind."

    Kouri finishes freezing the pond as she looks over at Kasienka. "Thank you, Kasienka."

    Kasienka managed a brief curtsy to Kouri, not daring to bring it too deep given what Mikan had just said. She didn't desire an infant to further flirt with her. Briefly turning her head to make sure Mikan wasn't about to trip on the garment she offered her hand to Kouri to help her climb to the surface. "I believe there are some people eager to see you, Princess."

    Kouri nods, and glances at Mikan. Mikan was giggling as she played with the tunic, and the princess could do nothing more than shake her head and sigh. "Take a step back, Kasienka. The stairs will be a much easier task."

    Kasienka rose her hand to show Kouri her palm then took the requested step back. Despite this she was ready to leap to the Princess's aid should she find the task too exhausting. The giggling rose some of the hairs on the back of Kasienka's neck, but she said nothing.

    After a few seconds of concentration, Kouri manages to rip down a set of crude stairs out of the pond's iced surface. She exhales, closing her eyes for a moment as Kasienka could sense it drained more of her magical talent than the princess would likely admit. Out above the steps led to the center of the frozen pond. "There." Kouri states, simply. "I wonder if I shall find my answers up there..."

    Rather than ask permission this time, Kasienka flicked her wrist to send a small golden tendril from her fingertip to Kouri's hand before moving to ascend the stairs, keeping her posture low to try again to not appear as a threat to those on the surface.
     
  18. Wanderer Rahim
    Soothing Songs and Icy Ponds
    [ * ]​


    Rahim tossed aside the last of the scraps of rabbit, wondering if perhaps his gut feeling had been little more than wishful thinking. The great scions of his destiny had turned out to be little more than a group of brigands and buffoons. With perhaps a few exceptions, Rahim felt sure he would break any person in half, were they to present themselves as threats. Rahim looked over at the Tiefling with further interest as he began to deal with the various offending parties. Eventually the red skinned man addressed him, having apparently heard his mutterings. Rahim's eyebrow rose, but he held his tongue as the Red-one was distracted again, as a real 'knife-ears' dove into the pool.

    "How strange." He said, as he slowly dragged himself up again. Rahim stretched his arms to their full length. His bones seemed to creak in disapproval at the sudden movement, while his fingers uncurled and then grasped at one of the branches above his head. Soon enough, the dark-skinned man was done stretching, and he reached down to pick up his hulking axe in one hand, and the two cooked, skewered fish in the other. The impressive weapon seemed just a little bigger than others of its kind, and yet Rahim hefted the tree-cutter onto his shoulder like it was just a training weapon.

    Soon enough, Rahim's lazy stretching was disturbed by the teifling's shouting. He ordered, or at least attempted to, the disparate parties around the lake. What might have earned him a healthy dose of indifference normally was soon turned into obedience by the slack-jaw inducing feat of magic going on behind him in the lake itself. Rahim approached the edge of the lake, equal parts entranced and vigilant. In his years, he had rarely seen such magic performed so liberally. The closest he'd encountered were displays of spiritualism by his tribe's shaman, and her magic generally remained quite subtle. "By the spirits..."

    Rahim was lost in a mesmeric state as he stared into the ice. Dancing, crackling, shifting fissures left the giant smiling, and it seemed nothing would deter his focus. Not Marcus' call to witness; not the non-bandit's misinformation about the precursor for all this chaos; and not the approach of the heavy suit of faceless armour that was Jaro. Only the song of the small bard stirred his attention from the dancing ice, and had him notice the moving figures below. He tried to pick out who was the odd one out of the quartet. There was the attacker-woman, the elf, the boy who jumped in to save the violent one, and the one who seemed most likely to be the magic's source.

    Rahim made his way over to Alexandra. By this point, she was stooped over and staring into the pond. Rahim nibbled at one of the two fish, then offered the bard the second. "Your song is appealing. Continue playing. It distracts from the madness." He said, not realising how much like an order the request might sound.
     
  19. Sisera sat against the tree and listened intently to the Tiefilng's words. Magic drawing people to this one spot? Sounded more like a mystic talking about fate than some form of magic. Still, Sisera had this nagging feeling: this sense of long forgotten nostalgia that had been buried and abandoned. The smoke still danced around him under his robe and began to slowly pour out and dissipate from his long drooping sleeves. With his walking stick he pulled himself to his feet and headed back to the pond. His robe and cap obscuring most of his body and a small trail of smoke quietly following him only to be quickly consumed by the breeze.

    He ignored the proceedings of the other people. As if drawn into a trance with some other primeval force guiding his steps. Perhaps fate did play a role after all. He heard the loud voices of others but they seemed far away and muffled. In a paradox it seemed as if the tranquility of the pond drowned out all other noises as he closed his eyes and began the focus, to meditate. In his prime years he never cared much for it, preferring to do more "constructive" exercises. Meditation just made him feel lonely but now, there was a purpose to it though he didn't know what it was yet.

    A small wisp of smoke flickered from his finger as he went deeper into his concentration. What was this barrier? This magical structure that protected something ancient.

    Deep within his subconscious, Sisera knew what it was the second he closed his eyes but let the knowledge be ripped to shreds in the bowels of his mind. He opened his eyes suddenly and let himself absorb the world again. He saw the pond freeze over slowly. He could tell the source was a person. He stood up and with his walking stick smash a small hole in the ice only to watch it form quickly again.

    His ears perked as he heard the word "King's Guard" shouted from the Tiefilng and sporadically turned to the dark skinned man. His large frame showing a posture that evoked confusion and a hint of frustration.

    "What? The King's Guard are gone. He... The... The... The white winged one killed them all."

    Before the Tiefilng could respond a sudden crash erupted from the ice pond as stairs began to form with the top step forming at Sisera's feet. Startled, he falls and scrambles back a few steps, his cap slipping off revealing his bald scalp as he nervously awaited what would arise from below.
     
    #19 Slade, Dec 29, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 4, 2016
  20. Baldrik Larsson
    He had trained for this moment for what felt like years- monologing to himself regarding the words that he would say the day that he came across her, the one that would cleanse this world of hatred and despise, of gods, demons and tribes alike- how she would with the help of others rise again to form a kingdom that would finally be able to stand the test of time. He had to make sure that one she did appear that he would not appear as a creep, be as honorable to her as possible, keep his head high and his stature exactly like what his mother always taught him to stand like whenever an important figure would pass by- meaning, Kouri, of course. He saw some form of a shape appear beneath the frozen lake- and something amidst the ice was approaching upstairs! His prayers had been answered, alast! The Ice Queen- the true Ruler of the lands of Renalta, the lady who turned down the Archangel himself and the frozen woman underneath the lake- finally, was approaching to settle things straight! Baldrik knew the honor that was awaiting him, his Ancestors was smiling down at him, his parents definently celebrating and his other family tree's branches were shaking with fear, the woman they had sworn allegiance to, yet failed to accept doing so: was now alive once more!

    Baldrik couldn't help but notice that another robbed figure- by the looks of it, some form of a begger, or peasant, was scrambling backwards away from the pond. He found his lack of faith, a tad, disturbing, and decided to tell him what it was. "There's no need to fear her, fellow man. The person who's to emerge from that lake is none other than the princess Kouri herself. The one that will bring salvation upon this world. Please, do join me and put your mind to ease." He might've sounded crazy to the others, but to himself he sounded like a perfectly well reasoned individual. There was no way about it- someone who knew of the name the King's Guard had told them to bear witness to this event, the Freezing of the Lake, the stair-case that had formed underneath, the figure coming up with the stair case... And the amount of people around him told him that his years of wandering for purpose in his life had finally been for something. Now, all that would have to be done would be the new oath swearing ritual to ensure that Kouri would understand his loyalty for her.

    He looked back and forth between the figures that were around the lake, and proudly announced- "Fear not, fellow men and women, for the person that's to be presented infront of us today's no one other than the bringer of Hope and Peace. Please do come closer, there's no need to fear her presensce, even if she wields the coldest form of Magic, her heart's not as cold as what she casts through her fingertips."
     
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