Roleplaying application (your participation is required)&nbs

[Guest Balladore]

"What was that?!" Balladore cried, standing as he did so, walking to the door cautiously. He held his staff in front of him, pointing out into the street where the sound had come from. Seeing nothing, he stepped out and saw two scorched marks on the grey cobblestone. Lady Nature he cursed to himself... Does this come for good, or for evil, though?

 

As Erick came up behind him to investigate, he looked at him in the brighter light of the street lamps... wait a minute... wasn't he a half-elf a minute ago?

 

As Erick saw the confused look on Balladore's face, he realized that his illusion had finally gone out the window, and bolted. Acting quickly, Balladore chanted a few unintelligible words, and vines crept out of the cracks between the cobblestones and wrapped themselves around Erick's legs. Struggling against the vines, Erick flailed around in vain, and Balladore walks slowly up to him. Finally, in a last attempt, he draws his dagger starts to cut at the vines, before his blade turns to dust at a spell from Balladore.

 

"Tsk, Tsk... that's not what a good boy would do. Justin? If you would be so kind as to "lead" him upstairs to the room?"

[Gyrfalcon]

Godsdamnit! Erick thought, even as Justin took firm hold of his arms and Balladore released the magical vines that had grown from between the cobblestones. A few onlookers were staring curiously, as Balladore turned away and Justin started to frog-march Erick back into the inn... and towards a most-likely messy death. Erick didn't like how Balladore had told Justin to bring him with them... not at all.

 

Luckily for Erick, he was a thief, and part of that included learning how to be an escape artist. Waiting for the proper step, Erick suddenly rammed his foot down on Justin's instep with all the force he could, feeling Justin's grip loosen as he cried out in pain. Balladore began to turn around.

 

I've got to hurry... Erick thought, as he rammed his elbow back, luckily hitting just under the breastplate, driving Justin's breath away, and bringing his head down for Erick to punch him.

 

Balladore glared at his troublesome prisoner, and began to speak another spell, probably more vines to entangle Erick. Erick wasn't sticking around for that. As Justin stumbled back, dazed, Erick threw a small object at Balladore. It broke open at his feet, and a large cloud of smoke burst forth, interupting the incantation in a fit of coughing. Without pause, Erick produced more of the small objects and filled the local area with smoke. Racing towards the nearest exit from the square, Erick heard a muttered chant, and the breeze began to pick up... luckily blowing the smoke in the direction Erick was going.

 

Thanks, druid. Erick thought as he burst through the cloud of smoke and kept on going. Behind him, he herd a voice "Hey... where's my pouch? That little.... THIEF!" With a snicker, Erick felt Justin Silverblade's pouch. He *was* a thief, after all...

 

Later, resting on the rooftops, listening to the sounds of the darkened city, Erick just wondered how he'd keep his promise and protect Imoe, with her two closer protectors likely wanting to 'talk' to him? With a sigh, Erick shook his head... he had no way of knowing. And he still had a quota to make.

 

No rest for the wicked... He thought, as he headed towards a quarter far away from where the druid would be.

Edited by: Gyrfalcon25 at: 1/12/02 10:27:12 pm

[Guest Valdar and Astralis]

. . .Stepping out from a shadow several blocks away, Valdar stumbled weakly into a wall and retched noisily into the gutter.

 

His head throbbed painfully as he lurched down the alley and tried to steady himself, all the time trying to ignore the voice shouting in his head. The struggle with his second conciousness had nearly un-made him, this time.

 

"But-the lives of those inside! They are innocent!" He had protested.

 

The evil must DIE! At ANY cost!-The mortals would die in the blink of an eye, in any case. Legion knows you are here now, he knows I am here too. He will be prepared next time! the now unwelcome voice spat back.

 

Sitting down heavily and fading into the shadow, Valdar tried to collect his wits amid the torrent of rage running through his mind. Then, a quick scamper of feet made him prick up his ears. A boy, it seemed, hurrying down the alley.

 

He shrank back further into the shadow. As he passed, Valdar noted a . . . scent on him. The voice in his head immidetly shut up.

 

Legion it snarled.

 

That boy has been consorting with Legion, I can smell that fiend's scent all over him.

 

The boy, a theif, from the looks of him, turned sharply, and into yet another side alley. He did not see the shadow that followed.

[Guest Turi]

*** Night passes and Imoe has been brought to her bed to sleep. When everyone has gone to bed or in other ways taken shelter for the night, Imoe wakes up.

 

*** Imoe sits up with a red glow in her eyes. Her facial expression seems hollow and there is a deep darkness casting its shadown over the sould of the little girl. She quickly gathers her clothes that had time to dry. She also grabs the dagger given to her by Silverblade. Without a sound, as if she was floating over the floor, she exits the room and out a window on the second floor.

 

An hour later she returns, just as silent as she had left. Her clothes were wet as if they had been recently laundered. Silently she puts her clothes up to dry and she goes to bed and sleeps until late morning. She looks VERY cute and innocent as she is laying in the bed. (She is a very beautiful young woman after all)

 

[OOC: Valdar might have noticed evil going on during the night. If he sleeps somewhere, he will find trails of blood on his door, on the door knob... as if someone tried to enter but failed... On the door there is text written with blood: Ages of captivity demends revenge... DIE

 

In the dirt outside the door someone have written the word: "HELP" with clumpsy writing... as if it was written with the foot. ]

 

[OOC again: The mage (Minta Rose) will have notice a paper laying near the window with the following text:

 

Dear mage. You have put in much effort in becoming a great magician and your attempts are admirable. However, great power can only be gained from great sources of powerflow. I can give you access to these sources in return for a favor.

 

If you are interested then visit the inn called: "The Lock and Key" and look up the little girl there called Imoe. You saw her yesterday coming down the street. Her life is threatened by an evil sorceror called Valdar. He ordered her parents to be murdered but forgot to kill Imoe. She is now the only witness and she needs protection. Defend her from Valdar at any price. I will give you strength to come through this mission with victory.

 

As a sign of good will I leave you with these words: "Derem loak kalem". Chant them while being on stony ground and you will see that I surely have access to the power flows that I say I have.

 

Sincerely yours - Legion

 

(OOC: while chanted on stony ground it will summon a stone golem from the ground. This golem will obey your commands but will disappear when you tell it too (even if you don't mean it))

 

(OOC once again: Valdar did not order the murders, so what Legion says is a lie but he's a very good lier)

 

*** Morning comes and down in the bar people are talking about the horrible thing that happened and they ask the question how anyone could do such a thing... When investigating further you will find out that a man was murdered. He was found naked, hanging upside down from the ceiling. He was stabbed several times with a dagger sized weapon and on his shoulder a cross was carved into his body... which was then cleaned leaving a nice and clear red cross... His gender was cut off and found in the trash outside...

 

*** Imoe wakes and looks a little tired but very cute and innocent... no trails of blood can be found on either her or her now dry clothes... the dagger is clean too. She gets dressed and walks downstairs... She looks shocked from hearing the description of the brutal murder. She looks kinda sad too since it reminds her of her parents.

 

(OOC: Well... I gave both Valdar and Minta Rose some things to play with... hope it was ok for me to do so...)

[Guest Balladore]

[OOC: It's your thread, do whatever you wish as Dungeon Master :-)]

[Justin Silverblade]

Justin woke up unimpressed.

 

He the minute his eyes opened in his tavern room at the Lock and Key, his hand went to his cheek. Feeling a bruise he groaned. That half-elf, human, whatever-he-was thingy had packed a punch for a rogue.

 

Slowly he got dressed, and, eyeing his armor, groaned again. A lot of good that hunk of metal did, he thought, rolling his eyes. And to top it off, he had no gold! He was lucky Balladore lent him the gold for the night's stay.

 

He made his way, wearily, downstairs. How was he going to pay for breakfast with absolutely nothing! To think, he was so happy with himself last night, saving his money for later.

 

The bar was half-full when he came downstairs, with no-one from his group there. He took a seat at the bar.

 

"What can I get ye?"

 

"Nothing," Justin said. "I've got nothin' to pay with."

 

The barkeep looked at him for a minute, and the bruise on his face. "Ohhh, you were involved in that little fiasco last night, weren't ya? Yeah, I was told about that. Apparently it wasn't the only one. You hear about the murder?"

 

[OOC: Sorry it's short guys, I'm a little tired right now.]

Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/13/02 6:25:55 pm

[Guest Valdar and Astralis]

Dawn came, and Valdar opened his eyes painfully. The night had not gone too well, after all.

 

The boy had not been forthcomming in any leads, the subtle mind-probes he had issued only brought up memories of a night plotting how to escape from a Druid and a Knight in the crowded inn-any of which could contain the demon.

 

, followed by a long run through the streets of the town, pickpocketing a dozen or more citizens on the way, AND wound his way down to a den of theives.

 

No direct sign of Legion. That had stumped his companion, who had fallen silent since.

 

A proxy, yes, I remember now, I slew Legion before I died-So much lost to me. . . he cannot take solid form yet, he must haunt, or posses. The voice lasped back into silence for a moment, thinking.

 

*

 

Slowly, Valdar sat up, scars aching. He had taken off his hood before he slept, revealing his pointed, upswept ears. He streached for a moment, before checking the wards he had put on the room he had rented for the night-and froze.

 

SOMETHING had tried to break in during the night, half the wards and traps woven on the door were torn asunder, and the distortion in the energies surrounding him spoke loudly.

 

Legion had come.

 

We should have killed him when we could his companion said quietly, though still with no small touch of anger.

 

Silently getting to his feet, Valdar reached his bow, and nocked an arrow. The demon would probably not be here any longer, but he would take no chances.

 

Mentaly, he pulled the door open and probed ahead mentaly. Nothing, save some runes scribbled on the wall. They were written in Narsarogath, one of the many languages of the lower level fiends.

 

Ages of captivity demends revenge... DIE

 

Silently, he exited the room, and knelt down to taste the trail of red liquid down the hallway. Blood.

 

Valdar started following the trail, to see where it led-before a shout, followed by a loud clanking of metal boots announced the arrival of the city militia.

 

"There! That's the one who was in the room where the bloodstains led!" he could hear the innkeeper shout from somewhere deep inside the small mob of armed men.

 

He briefly considered confronting the militia, but decided they weren't likely to beleive his tale.

 

Without hesitation, his fingers loosed the arrow he had nocked, mind changing the properties of the missile. The first militiaman raised his shield, and the arrow vanished with a stunning flash and explosion of sound.

 

Not heeding the effects of the diversion, Valdar reached out and sank his fingers into the nearest door like water, and tore if off it's hinges.

 

No time for subtelity now he thought. There were more militiamen comming up from behind now, unstunned.

 

He stepped into the room, mightily frightening a prostitute and her customer as he shattered the window as well, and jumped out into the street.

 

 

***The Trantor Daily***

 

SOCEROR LOOSE IN CITY, ONE DEAD, SIX INJURED

 

Chaos in middle-lane inn, today as six city guards battled an evil soceror in the halls where Mechan Jix, a fourty and two year old blacksmith was apparently murdered, and his body dragged to a deserted side room. Numerous satanic markings had been carved into his body, in what appears to be part of a black rite. The purpetrator of the crime, escaped using his arts, and we wish to remind all citizens, that should they see a BLACK CLAD MAN, of SLIGHTLY SMALLER THAN AVERAGE build. Probably wearing a hooded CLOAK with the hood up, and carries a BOW, they should NOT confront him, but instead inform the nearest militia house. Clerics from the six orders have expressed their disgust over the horrible murders, and a number of the "Templars of the Realm" have offered their magical services in apprehending, or ridding Tarantor of this foul evil

[Justin Silverblade]

[OOC - Guys, sorry for jumping out of the story, but I'm not sure how much I can be around to post. So I've brought myself to a position that could or could not be useful for plot, and lets you continue without having to wait for me.]

 

 

Justin chatted with the bartender for a little while longer, awaiting his new friends' awakening. When they did not show for the early morn, he went for a stroll.

 

Outside, Justin travelled around the block, and down to the east side of town. He was more familiar with the surroundings there. It was just after nine, and the sun shone brightly. The doors to peasents housing could be heard opening, and early morning market patrons were already on their way out for the 'good deals'.

 

Rounding the corner again, Justin found his way into the arms of two husky men. The first was a taller man, with long black hair and a straight face. The other was shorter and stubby. Both carried daggers in their hand, the first man holding his immeadiately to the neck of Justin.

 

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Silverblade himself. Out for a bit of a stroll?"

 

Justin didn't answer.

 

"Not talkative huh? Well, I hopes ya loosen yer tounge up a bit before we get there. The boss don't like the silent type."

 

Justin stiffled a few words. "Who... are you?"

 

"We're not important Silverblade," the shorter one answered. "Just come with us."

[Guest Turi]

(OOC: does anyone read this topic still? I still have a plot in my mind but I seem to have ended up in a deadlock waiting for someone to do something Well, if anyone feel like bringing the story just slightly forward and I'll continue with my plot )

[Gyrfalcon]

OOC: Aye, here we go! Now, if Balladore, Tzimfemme, (Turi perhaps) or Justin happen to be at market… *grin*

 

Erick leafed through The Trantor Daily- the frontpage article had been disturbing, to say the least. The images, though heavily censored, had been even more so. Every mage in the city would be *seriously* freaked out by what was on the inside page… an image that had slipped by the censors, showing the markings on the blacksmith's back. To anyone without a mage's training, they were merely stab wounds. To anyone with that training, even an apprentice's level like Erick, they were part of a summoning ritual…

 

Erick wasn't sure, but he thought it was to summon a demon. Suddenly, the paper was torn out of his hands, and Braggins scowled down at him.

 

"Whaa! What the heck is that for, I'm reading that!" Erick said, making a grab for the paper. He had just gotten his hand on it when Braggins smartly rapped his arm "What are you doing, still lolling around bed, Erick? You should be on punishment detail." he said, voice soft, dangerously so.

 

"What do you mean?" Erick said, confused, "I made my quota."

 

"Ah! So you did! But James saw you sitting in an inn, hoisting a few mugs of ale with a pair of adventurers and a girl!" Braggins scowled harder. "Ye've had it drilled into you- work first, THEN go have fun! Now get up, get dressed, and get to the market with you!" Erick nodded quietly and sighed as Braggins went back to inspecting a few gems that had been stolen the night before, assessing their quality. It was *much* better to allow Braggins to think he had been having fun, rather then admit that he had been captured, no matter that he got away with a whole skin.

 

Erick dressed himself and hurried down to the market before blending into the crowd and waiting patiently for his first mark.

Edited by: Gyrfalcon25 at: 2/1/02 10:17:44 pm