ibyaah

Post apocalyptic roleplay in a medieval fantasy setting: Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Wow this hook and the storyline so far looks awesome! You wouldn't still have room for another player, would you?

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

Hey everybody...how's everyone doing?

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

To Weaver - best of luck to your daughter.

I could always rework my post, make it easier for someone else to take up the action?

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

*Boing* Sorry about the wait on the post. Life/work kept getting in the way...that and my apartment not having internet haha.

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

From the masking shade of the mid afternoon sun against the forest's canopy, Quinn observed the old hunting cabin that had once served as his and his sibling's refuge in the wild. It seemed, as recent times would show, that it would be appointed for that purpose once again. Quick elven eyes scanned the trees surrounding the structure, searching for any obvious signs of prior approach or departure. It was a well hidden sanctuary, only known to Brand's children and a select few others outside the family, the path leading to it a jumble to confused hunting trails and a maze of dead end walkways only someone who'd been there before could hope to navigate. The flight from the Scuffed Boots proved to be a lengthy affair, the armed response by the remaining Guards was sluggish but surprisingly organized and dogged. In the end, the archer was forced to wing a couple with some green feathered shafts to convince his pursuers of a different path.

A sigh escaped the hooded elf's face; it had been a long day. However, even with aches from the road and sleep now starting to call to his eyelids, he stuck to the hard taught discipline to remain vigilant. Quinn still had an arrow knocked to the composite shortbow, ready to draw back the weapon at a moment's notice. He now wore his full ranger garb, having changed into it before bidding his siblings and Emma farewell. Being in the outfit and the familiar landscape comforted him, despite the circumstances surrounding the return. How often is it that all of us would be back together like this? His mouth upturned in a wry frown, gaze momentarily dropping down to the forest floor. I should have stayed with him longer... A slight pang of guilt stabbed through his abdomen. Though master and apprentice, father and son, parted on the best of terms, would have it been too difficult to have visited more often?

Quinn pushed the thought from his head. Now was not the time to regret or mourn even - that would come later, with reminiscing and alcohol...a lot of alcohol. The archer gave his immediate area another scan. He gave his tail of guards the slip over an hour ago at Fool's Lake in the confusion of tagging one of them with an arrow to the right shoulder, just under the iron pauldron. Still, he ventured out even farther in the Vendland wild, letting his pursuers track his obvious path into a dead end before circling back to the cabin. This time, he made sure to mask his movements, ensuring that any tracker short of Brand himself or one of the champion's other children would have a difficult or improbable time catching up much less finding the elf.

A grin played across Quinn's features as he mused over how his brothers and sister would make their way over. Given how many guards followed him, the elf guessed his reputation for an easy going individual was still intact. Good, let them think I'm the easiest to find and capture, soft leather boots started padding slowly towards the cabin, while they're chasing me, the others gain an even greater lead. As he made the final approach, Quinn noted the old stump was still as it was when he and Brand last left it, an old rusted axe with its handle almost rotted away leaning against it. Looks like I'm the first to make it... He skirted the cabin's perimeter and located the old well on the far side. Gauntleted hands picked up the wooden pail laid unceremoniously next to the well and laid it down, bottom up, on the well's ledge. Satisfied that he still remembered their sign for 'someone is home,' he turned and made for the cabin's main door.

The door remained locked as it always had been but Quinn still swept the interior with bow half drawn. Convinced that the cabin was secure, the archer closed the front door and set about taking a silent inventory of the cabin's supplies. He decided against a fire or anything overt for the time being. There would be time enough for that when the rest of Brand's children arrived. For now, the telltale sign out front would have to do.

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

Starting a post as we speak. Expect it up by tomorrow.

@Kangaroo - I'll have Quinn go at it on foot. So no worries about him!

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

I vote for a fast forward as well!

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

The fight was over quickly, if it could be called a fight after all. Brand's children made short work of their adversaries and even left one yet alive for questioning. We would make a very effective team of brigands... was the dawning thought that left a wry frown on Quinn's clean shaven face. One thing they all had in common was that their adoptive father had instilled in all of them a sense of duty and purpose to uphold the greater good. Well most of us, anyway. The elf returned Kazahk's wink with a wary stare, never letting the drow out of his sight while the others discussed their next move. While the others talked, Quinn sheathed his sword and threw on his cloak, clasping the garment on at his right shoulder. Next came the weapon harness, its familiar weight and fit brought the elf a small sense of comfort. Finally, the archer crossed the room and produced a coil of hempen rope. Wordlessly, he bound the last remaining guard's wrists and ankles together, though he left enough room for the man to stumble. Quinn gave the knots a couple sharp test pulls to assess their strength then looked up to his siblings. "I agree with Lys," he began, finally breaking his silence. "The cabin would make an ideal rallying point. Father and I had a small supply cache concealed in the stump behind the house. However," Quinn paused for a second to stand up to his full height and regard his siblings face to face. "We should avoid traveling in one whole group. Perhaps go in varying directions to throw off any tails before doubling back. Then there's this one. Who gets to carry the drunkard?" All the while, the elf's quick eyes scanned his brothers and sister, weighing their chances. They all knew Brand's methods of becoming and staying concealed. However that was before they had participated in a tavern brawl as a group. Their next move would require delicate precision.

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

Alrighty, that's all done. Sorry about the late reply, was away from the computer all day today. Also....my new place doesn't have internet yet so there's that. This is shaping up to be a fun RP :)

Blood Debt: Medieval/Fantasy Vengeance

Quinn looked about the room, sizing up all the newcomers. From his stepbrothers, Masef, Sigur, and Varzuhl to the intoxicated guards, the hunter's quick eyes took it all in. Six guards to the apparent four of Brand's wards. Actually five...I think... The elf thought with a frown, eyes accustomed to tracking game may have seen the crimson locks of his younger stepsister, Lysandra, before their owner ducked away into the inn's kitchen. The odds weren't bad, quite good for them actually once you factored in the liquor. He had seen Sigur completely overwhelm twice that many by himself. Varzuhl was a genius with two blades in hand. Masef had a style all his own, combining the strengths of two homelands. Finally, if she was actually there and not imaginary, Lysandra would've secured them victory with her complete mastery of those strange roped weapons of hers... However there was the issue of secrecy, ending any confrontation with it intact, as well as maintaining the safety of the others in the inn. Also adding the fact that Brand's elven stepson was currently unarmed didn't exactly help either. To better keep up with his disguise, the elf had left all his weapons in the bundle now definitely out of reach at the bar. Definitely a tactical error... Quinn chided himself, his palms closing around the end of the cask set down before him. The analysis ended in a flash however. The latest patron to visit the Scuffed Boots was one that the elf thought he'd never see again. Kazahk stepped into the inn with a purpose, straight from memory. Quinn remembered the issues they had as children growing up, probably one of the few consistently rough experiences he'd gone through. That all ended when Kazahk and Brand almost came to blows, heated words were said, and another stepbrother ended up in the ground. The two elves had not seen each other since. However if there was a positive outcome to all that, it was that he could better appreciate the good times and the siblings who were still alive and well. With a knowing look, Kazahk showed that he still had his hand to hand skills, skills the Drow would frequently use to best Quinn on many sparring matches. Well at least some things don't change. In the confusion of the throw as well as Kazahk's bold reaction, the tavern's living room devolved into utter chaos. "Gut that sootskin!!" were the rallying cries of the two guards sprawled on the floor. At once, one of the four guards still standing advanced with his blade half drawn towards the dark elf's left shoulder. A half full wooden cask of quality elven brandy to the head kept that particular guard from closing the distance. Wooden splinters, wasted alcohol, and the guard himself toppled to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Without waiting for a reprisal from the others, Quinn flitted to the front of the bar, looking to put himself between the rest of the guards and as many patrons as possible. Along the way, the elf archer glanced at his siblings, hoping that they were on their way. Once he reached the bar, Quinn caught Kazahk's gaze for a split second before swiping the elven curve blade from its sheath. The elven fighter kept his stance towards the guards mostly but also kept his sight on the Drow. Whatever his plan is, it's probably not good...