Third Earth : Quest For Ravenstone

(ooc: points at the part of my last post that says sandals.
Snicker snicker.)

Morian still waited for the man's reply as he stayed tied down.

 

(ooc: Observes that ancient sandals had thongs - And it's about 12.30 over here and definitely bedtime).

"Would it help if I put on my contrite face..?" Said Tabula, "These vines really chafe."

 

“Ah…, Miss, would you mind lettin’ him go. For the moment at least.” I interject. The girl-witch seemed happy enough to just ignore me, but it seems that all good things must end, and the pounding in my head will not go away. Maybe she can do something about that, maybe not.It’s hard to hear her curt response over the noise, “Why, its not like I shouldn’t just leave him high ‘n’ dry?”
“Calm down, have some wine – beer, brandy?- we can stalk this tuff through can’t we?”
“Well I suppose.” She responds, taking the bottle from my open palm, still looking at my new…”friend.”

 

Suddenly the sky covering reds deep began to churn and change something strange appeared in the sky turning like a whirlwind but not wind it was the dragons of reds deep circling up above eventuually they spread out across the sky some launched fire into the woods below others swooped down across the fields and back to the sky.

The Dragons of reds had woken again.

 

Morian stared into the sky.
"Um." She said. "Maybe. Maybe I should let you go now. Yeah."
"Yeah," A sarcastic voice said from the ground. "Maybe."
Morian made a gesture, and Tabula began crawling up.
"How about," Morian suggested, "We have introduction time later, and currently worry about the big red overgrown snakes in the sky?"
And then a dragon looked down, opened its mouth...
"DUCK!" Morian screamed.
And fire rained on the earth.

(ooc: I have a sneaking suspicion that those dragons aren't supposed to be here right now. If so, please correct me. But for now...action! Yay!)

 

The time of dusk in Blackthorne was not a friendly site, at the best of times. Thieves, bandits and all manner of unsanitary beings came from their hiding places of day, preparing for the nights mishaps. The local guard, undermanned and under resourced stood not a chance against the evil of Blackthorne.

Jonath learnt this the hardway. Though he was now an experienced knight, cunning and more than adept in battle, shining, full plate armour and the kings crest doesn't do well in a town of thieves. Jonath was promptly hassled and annoyed out of town.

Then, the dragons.

They came from nowhere. The beggars image spun through Jonath's mind. Even if he is not the old innocent man he seems, he may still need protection... Jonath muttered a few quiet words in the ear of his horse, and they were off, kicking up thunder clouds of dust behind them, making rapid ground on the place where these dragons were seemingly kicking up the emotion. He drew his sword mid -ride, the piercing metallic ring sounding out, the faint red glow accentuated in the dusk light. Spurred by the magic from the blade, Grien sped just a little. The old man came into site; there was others with him, another man, a woman, and a young girl, asleep on the rock. Asleep? At a time like this? Jonaths mind grew heavy with the thought.

This man was most certainly no ordinary beggar.

All of a sudden, a dragon swood down at him, blowing a plume of flame. Grien veered to the right, narrowly avoiding the flame. Jonath slashed at a wing, missing by mere centimetres. Long night ahead, perhaps.

 

Tabula sneezed and batted the sparks out of his hair. "Oh for God's sake", he muttered. "Bloody Dragons." He looked up at the wyrm coiling in the darkening, smoke-ridden sky. Russet scales shone poisonously in the half light as the beast twisted, folding its gigantic batwings against its flanks as it stooped back toward the figure of a mounted Knight not more than a couple of hundred yards away. Fire foamed at its lips as it fell to earth.

'Oh well, better get over there, even if it's just to prize melted steel off a parboiled corpse.' He thought.

"Hey, Witch lady - You got any fancy Vines that can hold that bugger..?" Tabula swept his remaining caltrops out of everyone's way with his feet, then broke into a run toward the beleagured knight - unwinding his chain from around his waist as he ran.

The knight ducked under the flame and swung at the creature as it barrelled past him not more than an arms-length from the ground. Extending its membraneous wings to their limit; sinews popping and twanging as its huge muscles fought against the air to slow the its flight, the Dragon scrambled back upward into clear air.

Ten feet it climbed, twenty.

Tabula's hooked chain spun out of the smoke and caught a trailing wingtip as it rose to catch the wind. The Dragon's own strength pulled the hook deep. The weighted tail-end of the chain whipped up, blurring round and round like a pinwheel to foul the the vanes as the Dragon's wing flailed vainly for lift. The beast roared and slid sideways through the heated air. It hung, seemed almost to rise slightly - so massive were its efforts to fly - before crashing to the ground like some huge wing-shot pheasent.

Tabula squatted to catch his breath a good safe distance from the enraged Dragon - now a fire-spouting mass of scaled death thrashing titanically upon the ground where it had fallen, its spurs and wing-tips gouging up great torrents of earth and flinging it about.

"Okay - That's it from me folks - if anyone wants to play the hero and slaughter that overgrown chicken, I've trussed it up good." Tabula gasped, and then our weary hero fell back upon the blasted heath, exhausted.

 

"Ye Gods, where is it, where is it, where is it- oh, there it is," Morian said brightly, jumping up from behind a rock, holding her quiver and bow.
She drew an arrow and quickly locked it into the string, whirled around, closed one eye, dropped to her knees...
Whap. A tree suddenly found itself with an extra dose of arrow.
"Damn," Morian muttered as her bow reloaded itself, then shot again.
Whap. The next one barely missed the head of the girl who Tabula had enchanted but was now waking up, as Morian wondered where the bow's so-called "enchanted aim" had gone.
Splat. The third one made a rather disgusting victory, splashing into the dragon's red eye, and inducing a bone-shaking scream of pain. It threw itself upwards, gouging a hole in its hooked wing, and started to come down again...
And Morian saw something.
"The underbelly!" She yelled. "It's weak! We need to get at that!"

 

With a sudden burst of speed, Jonath raced forward. I shall not make this distance in time... he though as je raced forward.
Jonath looked down at the tinged blade; it's enchantments made it unbreakable, among other things. Jonath flicked the blade underarm, making full use of his wrists as it twisted towards the dragon, striking it horizontally, going just below the skin. The dragon screamed in pain, and reduced a nearby tree to cinders.

Jonath dismounted quickly, and thrust his blade into the dragon to the hilt, twisting as he went. out of the blue, the dragons massively strong tail whipped around, nearly striking Jonath across the back. "In the Kings name, why does it take such effort to slay such a beast?"

 

Well, dad, mom, you always said I'd end up getting my ass burned. I don't think, I don't reason, I don't consider, I just race towards that one rock the old guy was sitting on. Maybe, I can hide behind it, or at least, sit there while I get my head together.

 

"In the Kings name, why does it take such effort to slay such a beast?" The knight cursed and, with a final wrench on the hilt, withdrew the blade from the gash - readying it for another downward stab.

Suddenly The high throbbing keen of the runeblade was drowned out as the Dragon bellowed: a fountain of flame and boiling blood splattering the scorched soil. The beast convulsed - throwing the knight off his feet - then lay still, its sides pulsing slightly, the great ribs fluttering spastically under its scaley skin. Soon even that small movement ceased and a silence descended, mitigated only by the soft spit and pop of smoldering pinecones.

"Dibs!" Cried Tabula, getting to his feet and shambling over to the great corpse. Leaning over the dead dragon he pulled out his dagger and began peeling off the scales from just below the great ridge of spine along its back.

Tabula looked about him.

"What..? - these things are worth a fortune from the armourers guild. Hey - Can someone give me a hand to roll the bastard over..? I know an Alchemist who'd pay a pretty penny for a Dragon's pizzle."

Tabula punched holes in the fleshy roots of the scales he'd collected, threaded them on a length of sinew he'd stripped from one wing, and stowed them in his gear. Enough for a Jerkin at least he thought. He rewound his chain around his waist and dusted himself off.

"Whoo - Exciting stuff. I'm a bit wired - How about we find an inn an get pissed..?" The idea met with little applause save from the cowering Laramy. "Oh come on people - We can er, discuss our next moves..." Still nothing. "By all the Gods and their three-titted mothers !" Tabula swore - "Look - I'll even carry the damned Barbarian okay..?"

 

Morian leaned on the staff.
"I reckon," she said bemusedly, "They're all waiting for the part where you tell us why we're all suddenly travelling together. But I'm assuming it's because you've already figured out that we're all here on order of the king?"
"Well, I might've been getting to that..." Tabula said.
"The bit about the three titted goddesses was quite good," Morian said, now walking. "Although I've met a few goddesses myself, and I must say they tend to stick to strictly two and under, as is average. Now...."
She bent down, and wrapped her arms around the prone figure of Sharros.
"..I'll carry the girl."
She turned to the others.
"Shall we head out?"

(ooc: Where is HF? You'd think he'd have gotten back to Sharros-or whatever her name is- by now...)

 

Standing, my knees begin to knock, and I reflexly reach for my flask. Well, the one strapped to my belt at least. Tilting my head back, I down the moderate amount of fluid left in the bottle. Damn, my head still hurts. Flying lizards.
When the hell did the status quo change? Drink, wake up, drink some more, ignore comments about my life. Was rinse repeat. Now I'm sitting in the middle of some field next to the smoking remains of dead race. oh, I forgot the miscreants I'm now keeping company with; a knight, among others. As if the bottles didn't remind me enough...
"Well, it seems to this bum that the gods, who ever they are- assholes off in the sky, or just random ****, don't want us traveling together if the dragon is indication." I try get the last few drops out of the flask. Fully drained, I toss it into the air. "And there's nothing I like more than pising off self Righteous deitys on a daily basis."

 

"Aahh, " Tittered Laramy unevenly, pointing an already soused finger at the Witch and the Barbarian over her shoulder, "Girl on girl action..."

"I'll box your ears when I've a spare fist you drunkard." Spat Morian.

"So," Said Tabula, patting his empty purse, "Whose round is it..?"

 

"Hold - I must warn you all now. Blackthorne is a town full of evil. Thieves, murderers, kidnappers and the like run the place at night. They can smell a full purse from a distance, much less dragon scales. Be careful."

 

Tabula glanced up at the mounted Jonath. "Look - You're a fully armoured knight, dripping with fresh dragon blood, carrying a magic sword. We've got a guy who knows his way around the streets like the back of his hand, probably even better than that now he's drunk again. We've got a Witch with a hair-trigger and an attitude problem, and we've even got a spare barbarian, if she ever wakes up, just in case."

Tabula paused, scratching his arse contemplatively.

"I mean - what thief in his right mind is gonna start any trouble with us..?"

 

Across the borders of reds Deep over Toricous River on the boarders Of Avolone Masses of Orcs gather watching over the river for anyone who dares to cross from Reds Deep into Avolone Home of the Skarrab Orcs.

The Orc Warboss stands at the foot of the violent river watching its constantly morphic ripples and thrashing currents bashing and slamming hard into the rocks. "Me Telling you dat anythin dat kross's you godda shoot at da blighters." he bellows to the 100 or so Orcs that surround him.

And all are armed with brutish swords and big axes.

And they wait for those that have to cross Toricous's river into Avolon.

 

Jonath stared at Tabula for a short time. "Very well. To Blackthorne, but we remain for no more than a night, and then we should continue on our quest."

 

"Right, gotcha," Morian said. She stopped for a second, looking down the winding path that reached out to gently touch the horizon.

She sighed.
"And so we go. C'mon."

 

(ooc: Sorry about the delay, fellows. I got back on late Monday, in time to have a ton of old schoolwork dropped on my head [including more than 15 essays, curse the instructor - we have 5 essays due every two days, and 10 every weekend, for the next five weeks]. Then I loaded on the site, saw that the barbarian had used her axe for some reason when she would've explained her position as emissary, and then read that the dragons were attacking. So I [quite pettily] decided to let you guys get eaten while a decent off-main fighter slept through it. And now Shannon's waking up.)

Shannon blinked blearily, thinking Eh? Wha? What happened? She saw a group of people, not quite sure who they were - it seemed that the formerly unconscious young woman had awoken, but she didn't recognise the others.

She sat up, feeling dusty. One of the group was talking: "Very well. To Blackthorne, but we remain for no more than a night, and then we should continue on our quest."

Someone else replied in the affirmative, "And so we go. Come on." It didn't take much to figure out that, despite appearances, this was the group Lord Houston wanted her to accompany on behalf of the King.

Rising carefully to her feet, Shannon surveyed the situation. Two unruly-looking fellows, one vaguely familiar. A knight on horseback - must ask him how he fights with that sword of his, she thought instantly, fingering the axe at her side. The steed looked well-bred, also; a true destrier rather than the faster, lighter breed the Wilder Folk used to send messages and as mounts in war. When she turned thirteen-and-eight, she would begin to train with a war horse from the Raven's stables, but until then, she felt free to admire the knight's steed.

The other two didn't look so bad, either. The young woman was there, and it occurred to Shannon Darrosdatter that perhaps whatever sudden exhaustion had affected her might have affected the woman similarly. Magic, perhaps, or trickery. No doubt she'd find out eventually. Until then, it looked like the road for her.

She walked into the midst of the group as they left, accepting a slightly slurred, "Oh, you're finally awake" from one of the rogue-ish looking men with a nod, then headed toward the mounted knight.

"Greetings, honest traveler," she said to him, inclining her head slightly. "I gather that all of us are traveling in the service of our good King. Where, may I ask," and she looked around, including everyone in the question, "are we headed? And what dangers may we face along the way?"

 

"To Blackthorne for the night, and so that our fellow companions here can drown the days sorrows and hardships. After that, it's onto the dragon country. It will be a long journey, and the dangers are thoroughly unpredictable, however, I'm sure that we are more than capable to face them." said Jonath, his eyes boring through hers. Pure intent.

He then began a slow trot along the road to Blackthorne. He was weary from the days mishaps, and the days before. A drink and a rest would do him good.

 

(ooc: Unless anyone else wants to dialogueify, I suggest we time-skip forwards to Blackthorne.)

 

I thought we left Blackthorne and entered Reds Deep and now Hulls Raven has set the scene for those leaving Reds Deep.

So why would you want to return to blackthorne were the king has sent you from to quest for this ravenstone?

 

(and what do we say to Night Haunter..? We say - "Stop breaking the flow Joe. Pitch in with the narrative or pitch your tent somewhere else.")

Tabula grumbled under his breath, staggering back to the table with a heavily-laden tray.

"I have no truck with the temptations of material wealth." Jonath had said.
"I'm skint." Laramy.
"I'm er, a bit short." Shannon.
"Spent it on fertillizer." Morian.
"For the love of God." Tabula.

Booting a bandy-legged whore out of the way Tabula clunked the drinks down on the table and sat heavily. Draining half his leather tankard in three gulps Tabula swiped the froth off his lip with the back of his hand and looked around.

"Wuz talkin' to some lads at the bar, some sheep-farmers from the borderlands, down here for the markets. Seems there's some talk of Orcs on the move in those parts - massing near the bridges. From what I remember the Toricous river is too damn fast to swim."

He turned to the Witch, who was sipping at a Rajoga-root spritzer, little finger carefully extended. She made a face - "What..?" She said, "Have I got juice on my chin..? God I hate that..."

"No - just wondering how powerful you are, and what kind of range you can work at. Could you split rock with those roots you command..? Could you take out a bridge..? Say while there was a whole bunch of Orcs crossing it..? How close would you have to be..?"

Morian creased her pale brow, and steepled her long fingers beneath her chin...

"Well I...

 

(ooc: Hehehehe.)

Morian took a large guzzle of her beer, basking in that glow of joy one gets from drinking underage and getting away with it.
Then she creased her pale brow, and steepled her long fingers beneath her chin.
"Well, I generally have to see the spot to be able to command it, to answer your last question. And horizon doesn't count. I'm a witch, but just a teenager. As I've been reminded," she sighed, "countless times before. As for a bridge...I dunno. Depends on the scenery. If it was, say, in the middle of a cliff, I could grow a root right here," She started making hand gestures as only the slightly drunk can, "And start a few rocks rolling right there, and before you know it, you've got an avalanche pouring down on your Orcish arse. But other places...I'm just as helpless as you. And as for the strength of my plants...don't know. I've never really tried."
When Leremy gave her a skeptical look, she shot back, "Oh, come on, I'm a witch. Generally, we work as midwives, healers, or nurses for those on the deathbed. As we say, we help people get into this world, stay in this world, and then get out of this world. It's not like I go off everyday and say, "Let's see if I can get a bloody big root to smash through that mountain over there." I'm far too busy helping along the little things in life. That's what a witch does."
She took another swig of beer, then looked thoughtful.
"Y'know," She said, "I don't think I've ever given such long monologues, especially not in succession and especially not with a beer in my hand."
"Oh, lucky us," Tabula said sarcastically, and rolled his eyes.