Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

This setting sounds great! I'd be interested if the roster hasn't already been filled on the casual end of things!
@Heat So sorry for your loss. I think everyone can understand with everything going on right now that folks are going to have other priorities. I can't speak for others, but I'll definitely be around when you get the time and have the head-space to start. Stay safe, and thank you for the update!
Here's a rough draft for my proposed character, Tanda Sal. If everything goes well and she gets approved I may end up having to eventually make a sheet for her father as well. If this character is a bit too clean and tidy for the purposes of the RP I can draft up something else.

I’d be interested in trying this out if there’s space left to join.



The echo of an oar wading through dank waters crept throughout the underground tunnels the party had found themselves in. More pernicious than the noise was the odor. It was worse than the common refuse one might expect from a large city. It smelled unnatural, like a kind of decaying; of what no one could be sure. The only reprieve from the darkness that encroached on their boat was a small orb of light manifested by the mage who had navigated the party through the city. He kept his focus on steering the gondola yet the orb persisted without faltering.








The boat came to a halt one final time. A dead end. The party found themselves in a large cavernous room with only a small dock and blocked off tunnels ahead of them.

Come,” the stranger urged as he stepped from the boat out onto the decrepit dock. It stretched out onto the water like an old finger. The mage calmly stepped forward without another word. The wooden planks creaked beneath them. As the party followed the mage toward the tunnels he looked back to them. “Please, pardon my compatriots. Things...have been difficult.

With that the mage put a hand on one of the walls to the tunnel. A ripple in space itself that followed from his touch. He pushed through the facade as if stepping through water as the party followed closely behind him.




Whatever magic had allowed them all to phase through the wall led them into another large cavern. Its was long and vacuous, but narrow. They made their way through the dark hallways of the cavern. The smell from before had finally subsided, relatively at least.

The sounds of footsteps meeting the party at the other end of the cavern was enough to give them pause. The stranger seemed undeterred by the advancing noises. Eventually, an older man stepped from the shadows greeting the party as they made their way to the end of the tunnel. The elder man looked the party over before glancing towards the stranger with contempt. There were no words exchanged as the stranger brushed passed the elder who then followed behind the group.

The party made their way into a makeshift foyer. A number of small fireplaces lit the area more than most of the cavern. People were hustled around them. Their gaze turned to the party as they made their way forward. Hushed whispers spilled out around them. There was old furniture, tomes, luggage, and artwork scattering the area. There was the occasional shanty nestled away in the darkest corners of the room.

The elder mage finally broke the silence among the party. “I knew you to be a fool, Horatz, but to bring strangers to this place? After what happened at La Grazia? In your arrogance, you’ve jeopardized the safety of the entire league.” The old man made no effort to cloak his words behind niceties nor did he seek to hide them from the party.

No Phideas,” Horatz protested. “They were helping a mage who had been attacked by one of Stantos’ men.

There is no weaker a bond than one forged in mutual hatred. Even still...” Phideas stopped at the end of the foyer before turning to the rest of the party. “I mean you all no offense. These are troubling times in our fair Caracas. I’d only wish Horatz had made us aware of his sudden...philanthropic predilections.” The man spoke with a heavy Caracan accent. His voice was rich and deep, but there was a weariness to it. It was almost mesmerizing.

Helping others is how we win against my brother, is it not Phideas,” another voice called out from beyond the foyer. A young man stepped out towards the party. He spoke with a flamboyance, and he worked to mask any trace of an accent. He was devilishly handsome. A small golden chain linked from his nostril to his earlobe. His eyes were a murky hazel, and his skin a light brown color. His robes were fanciful though covered by a cape. The cape itself had an extravagant collar that was nearly weighed down by its own heaviness. It's tip extended up the man's neck towards his ear on one side, and hung closer to the chest on the other.

I meant only that we should take caution, Dantel.

Dantel made his way towards the group as if ignoring Phideas’ protests. He studied the party with an exaggerated level of charm. “Such beautiful new allies you’ve brought us Horatz.” He made his way towards Kjellfrid before taking her hand and kissing it gently. “I am Dantel Ernesto Amarillo de Caracas. Prince of Canal City and...humble leader to the League of Magi. You must forgive the...eccentricities of my collaborators. They are far too dire.” Dantel looked to Karlus who still laid unconscious draped over Annabella’s shoulders.

Noticing Dantel’s prodding Horatz looked towards him. “It seems he has spell fatigue. He just needs some rest, and a bit of caster’s milk.” Dantel nodded in response.

Jareez, please help our new friends. Would you be so kind as to carry this handsome specimen to our infirmary?” Horatz rolled his eyes at Dantel's flattery.

Stepping out from one of the groups huddled around a fire was a large tiefling woman. Her hair was cut short, and her horns were frayed. She couldn't help but stare at Vekyzz for a few moments, before looking to Dantel. She nodded before gently taking the mage from Annabella’s care.

If you’ll all follow us,” Dantel motioned for the group to follow his lead behind Jareez. The group made their way through corridors that lined the cavern. It was clear that something had been built down here long ago. Most of it was tattered and in ruins now, but there was a time when this place stood strong.

I must apologize for the state of our current abode. My brother has thrown a tantrum because he is not the heir to this great city. He’s ransacked our former base of operations, and has made retrieving much of my property from the royal offices all but impossible. Meanwhile the people he seeks to rule are made miserable by his ineptitude.

As the party moved through the hallways the sounds of coughing and vomiting grew louder. The smell that filled the sewers returned, though more acute than before. Jareez turned into one of the corridors on the right. There were a number of makeshift beds where a number of sick lay in misery. It was difficult to make out much in the room with such little lighting, but there was enough to see strange brown rashes and rotting pustules having mutilated the faces of many of the sick.

I realize the sight is a troubling one. We’ve been working to find a cure,” Dantel said. “Forgive my bluntness, but we are fortunate that it only affects elven-kind. They’ve taken to calling it woodrot.



Jareez put Karlus down in a corner bed, away from the others.

Remember your purity spells,” Phideas urged as Jareez walked passed the group and back out towards the foyer.





Dantel had taken the group to a back room that seemed to serve as his office. There wasn’t much in terms of personal effects save for some tomes, magical objects, and a small carved dragon resting on a stack of opened scrolls.

You all are welcome to stay here for as long as we are able to host you.” Dantel paused for a moment before continuing. “My brother has surrendered to madness, and for it people are suffering. I can imagine that you all don’t trust me, and to be frank, I’m not sure I trust you all either. What I do know is that none of you are getting out of this city without stopping Stantos.” Horatz looked to Dantel, who in turn looked towards Phideas. Dantel nodded to the elder.

There is more than just Stantos,” Phideas sighed. “We believe there is some larger conspiracy afoot… some sort of cult bent on ruling the Union with the use of some hellish magic. We don’t know much of anything save for what one of the people in our care has been able to tell us.

But we believe Stantos is connected to it, somehow,” Dantel added. He studied the group looking for some reaction. They all seemed rather tired. He let out a small sigh, trying to defuse the tension. “For now, you are all safe, and have no obligation to me. Get rest and food, and return to me once you have the strength.

The party made their way out of the tavern to track down Karlus through the back alleyway, but there was no trace of the mage there. Stepping out beyond the garbage and clutter in the alleyway they could see a completely abandoned marketplace with no one in sight. Unlike many of the stands and merchant shops dotting the marketplace, one stand off to the right of the alley still had a number of trinkets upon it. The area was somewhat small, but nestled between sprawling favelas and dank alleys.

Vekyzz's feet came to a trampling stop on the dirty cobblestones, almost sliding a few inches over them as near a harbor things always had a nasty tendency to be a little wet. The tiefling looked around, but it certainly would not have taken anyone near his height to get a perfect overview of the situation quickly: There simple wasn't anybody left to obstruct any line of sight. The marketplace was devoid of any life, but not of indications that it must have been there just moments earlier.

This could simply not be a good sign... What had caused this mass exodus of people ? The situation inside the tavern ? Vekyzz almost immediately dismissed this thought as rubbish -- too far, way too silent and probably all too 'normal' for a tavern with drunk people in it. For him, things pointed much more to Karlus. Had the crazy mage not been able to stop his fiery temper once outside ? Had he continued to use dangerous magic ? And most importantly: Which of those small streets had this damned, tiny little man taken ? For a moment Vekyzz even considered hoping for Karlus to continue to use his magic as it would have made finding him a lot easier, if not possible in the first place.

However he was not the kind of guy to give up in this situation. The place being empty also had the advantage of nobody being there to obstruct his path or to alert even more guards about another crazy man running around -- this time with a rifle ready to fire. Vekyzz had not taken the thing into his hands yet as carrying it strapped to his back made it easier to run. And so he did now, taking the alley to the east. Hopefully anyone who had followed him so far would be clever enough not to waste his or her presence following him but to take another route. The tiefling did not give instructions at this point, he was too focused on the hunt and assassins usually worked alone.

Upon making his way towards the alleyway Vekyzz was greeted by the sight of both Karlus and the guard rendered unconscious. There was clearly some kind of skirmish. The mage laid face down at the head of the alleyway while the guard, about four paces away, sat against the wall. His armor was dented on the right side with smoke billowing out from the center of the wound. Vekyzz could see that neither were dead, at least.

”By my ancestors,” Kjellfrid said, looking at the scene, having followed Vekyzz for reasons that he would not have known. However, it was clear on a simple thought that the Tiefling was tall and intimidating, odds are she would be using him as a wall to hide from others. Though, the magical flute she carried was nowhere to be seen, having been placed back somewhere on her person. The brith, looked at Vekyzz and then back to the mage and guard.

”S-should we help him?’ she asked hesitantly.

”Help whom ?” Vekyzz almost snapped back, the brith recoiling from the response. It was pretty safe to say that seeing the scene ahead had not helped his adrenaline level go down again. ”And help with what ? I can try to heal some wounds, but I can not help making a madman sane again!”

Having made this kind of statement, the tiefling raised his rifle and pointed it right at Karlus before approaching him carefully. Once he stood right next to the mage’s feet, he used the barrel to gently touch as much of the unconscious man’s cheek as there was reachable. Maybe the feeling of cold metal forged into a very lethal form would help to wake him up. If not there still was Vekyzz’s voice, even though the tiefling always found it odd to do anything else but whisper when using it: ”Hello there! Wake up!”

”Kjellfrid ? Take care of the guard. We can still come out of this without anyone having been killed. We have to!” Vekyzz added, not turning away from Karlus for a single moment.

The bard moved forward, slowly getting closer to the guard before crouching next to him after making sure he truly was unconscious. She looked at the bent and near shattered armor, noting the smoke coming out of it in a rather large column. Though, Kjellfrid first took away the weapon of the guard, setting it behind her in a clear bit of paranoia, either of dying or just the sight of the weapon in general. She looked to Vekyzz, silently watching his gun before turning back to the guard and trying to release him from the armor.

Before Kjellfrid could relieve the guard of his armor a voice called out from just beyond the alleyway. “Minerva, mother spoke true.” Surprise echoed in the onlookers voice as he called out to the Goddess. Stepping out from around a corner and peering into the alleyway was a man dressed in rather striking robes. A head shaved nearly too close to the scalp contrasted with his flamboyant clothing. His lanky frame came into view as he motioned towards the party. “If your intent is to harm that mage I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave this alleyway.









The stranger inched closer to the group, or more specifically towards Vekyzz and Annabella. He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I mean you no harm. This, I swear to you. So long as your intentions for this mage are pure,” he stopped moving forward. His left hand tugged at the bandages on the right wrist, still raised in good faith. The bandages fell gingerly to the pavement revealing, in their place, a bevy of scars and cuts about the stranger’s flesh.

Annabella showed the man her palms but made no move to step forward. She took note of his scars. A friend of the mage, perhaps? At the very least the two were likely allies. Perhaps three was the charm for the day. That was the hope, anyway as she took a deep breath before speaking to the man. She spoke softly, evenly, doing her best to exude an aura of calm
"Our intentions are peaceful, we do not want to harm him." She paused, pursing her lips as she thought about her next words. "However, I will not lie to you. If we cannot stop him with words, we will use force. We cannot allow him to endanger anyone else."

The robed mage dropped his hand. He looked to Annabella and then his eyes wandered behind her towards Kjellfrid, or more likely, the unconscious guard. “Is he dead,” he asked. It was clear from his tone, though, that he didn’t expect an answer. He shook his head gingerly and with it the question from his mind. He walked more casually towards Vekyzz and Annabella. “It is not the mage you should fear. You and your companions aren’t safe here,” he urged. The mage paused for a moment in thought. “I may be able to afford you safety from them,” he motioned towards the guard as he spoke. “Anyone who would call Stantos’ dogs their enemy is an ally to us.

”Well… if I am allowed to speak frankly… With friends like these you don’t need enemies. They have been giving trouble to me for the whole, freakin’ day!” Vekyzz clearly was speaking about his own party and he was doing so with the blatant undertone of at least partial resignation. He felt like a hunter who had been so close to his prey before some greater evil had decided to just snatch it away from him. Who was going to give Karlus the rant and beating he had earned himself so profoundly now ? Probably none. Not with the small madman just having gained a tall, could-be lunatic as his new best friend who could be a powerful mage, too. Or maybe that anonymous guy just pretended to be such until he’d reveal his true and ugly face ? Who knew what kind of different factions were at work in this city. Right now it definitely felt as if there were more than just the guards.

The tiefling stopped trying to wake up Karlus with his rifle and strapped the weapon onto his large back again. He reached for the man instead, his huge hand easily gaining a vice grip around the mage’s shirt so he could pull him up. ”Hello ? You there ? Wake up!” Vekyzz tried to slap Karlus’ cheek. Gently first, then with significantly increased strength. The tiefling sighed, speaking to the stranger again while not turning his eyes away from Karlus. ”Actually we are here to save him from both the guards and his own actions, but if he doesn’t wake up soon I’ll have to carry him to whatever hideout you have in mind and that will trigger even more attention...”

The mage observed the motley crew of adventures with an eyebrow raised, and head slightly ajar. A smile threatened his downturned mouth. As Vekyzz tended to Karlus the stranger continued. “Our medics have been quite busy tending to plague-ridden, but we could likely tend to you all.” As the tiefling sighed and spoke again the mage nodded away Vekyzz’s concerns. “I can promise you discretion…” he said as he gave the party a final look over. “Certainly more discretion than you’ve managed thus far. But you must make your choice quickly. I have taken a risk in trying to help you.

Annabella narrowed her eyes at Vekyzz and crossed her arms over her chest. She stepped right up to the man and looked up at him with a less than pleased expression.
"First of all, I arrived only minutes ago. Second, you waving your rifle around like a drunken grenadier is not helping either. I want to help you and everyone here, but if you're going to keep acting like a tantruming child who throws blame on everyone else then I'll be happy to part ways, even with someone as handsome as yourself."
Without waiting for his reply, she picked the mage up off the ground and laid him across her broad shoulders in a fireman's carry. With that, she turned her attention to the mage.
"I don't know about the others, but I am not waiting here for the guards to crash down on us like a tidal wave. Röl grosh, avůk nogal. Lead the way."



Vekyzz did not say anything. Or well… at least nothing anyone else would have been able to understand. It was a curse straight from the deepest, darkest abyss to be found in the heart of a tiefling’s native tongue. A tantruming child ? A drunken grenadier ? Well first of all she herself had just admitted that she had merely arrived minutes ago, so she had missed some of the insults and unnecessary provocations he had had to endure in the first place. Then she probably had no idea how to handle a rifle, let alone a precision one like his. So how could she dare to speak about how to deal with one properly ? And carefully nudging a dangerous mage from the distance with the cold barrel could hardly be called ‘waving around’, could it ?

Vekyzz once more used the tiefling language, this time speaking to Karlus who still seemed unconscious: ”Karlus ? If you hear me… wake up! Wake up and unleash all of the uncontrolled rage that’s left in you upon the Orc carrying you. I have been a fool and deemed her to be one of the more reasonable of the party at first!” Well... from a strictly technical point of view Annabella still was, but that barrage of accusations was a very major blow still.

"Stick close to me, and follow my every direction exactly." With that the mage hurried forward out of the alleyway with the others following close behind.


Collaboration between @Fetzen, @Lauder, @Famotill and @Jarl Coolgruuf
The party made their way out of the tavern to track down Karlus through the back alleyway, but there was no trace of the mage there. Stepping out beyond the garbage and clutter in the alleyway they could see a completely abandoned marketplace with no one in sight. Unlike many of the stands and merchant shops dotting the marketplace, one stand off to the right of the alley still had a number of trinkets upon it. The area was somewhat small, but nestled between sprawling favelas and dank alleys.

Vekyzz's feet came to a trampling stop on the dirty cobblestones, almost sliding a few inches over them as near a harbor things always had a nasty tendency to be a little wet. The tiefling looked around, but it certainly would not have taken anyone near his height to get a perfect overview of the situation quickly: There simple wasn't anybody left to obstruct any line of sight. The marketplace was devoid of any life, but not of indications that it must have been there just moments earlier.

This could simply not be a good sign... What had caused this mass exodus of people ? The situation inside the tavern ? Vekyzz almost immediately dismissed this thought as rubbish -- too far, way too silent and probably all too 'normal' for a tavern with drunk people in it. For him, things pointed much more to Karlus. Had the crazy mage not been able to stop his fiery temper once outside ? Had he continued to use dangerous magic ? And most importantly: Which of those small streets had this damned, tiny little man taken ? For a moment Vekyzz even considered hoping for Karlus to continue to use his magic as it would have made finding him a lot easier, if not possible in the first place.

However he was not the kind of guy to give up in this situation. The place being empty also had the advantage of nobody being there to obstruct his path or to alert even more guards about another crazy man running around -- this time with a rifle ready to fire. Vekyzz had not taken the thing into his hands yet as carrying it strapped to his back made it easier to run. And so he did now, taking the alley to the east. Hopefully anyone who had followed him so far would be clever enough not to waste his or her presence following him but to take another route. The tiefling did not give instructions at this point, he was too focused on the hunt and assassins usually worked alone.

Upon making his way towards the alleyway Vekyzz was greeted by the sight of both Karlus and the guard rendered unconscious. There was clearly some kind of skirmish. The mage laid face down at the head of the alleyway while the guard, about four paces away, sat against the wall. His armor was dented on the right side with smoke billowing out from the center of the wound. Vekyzz could see that neither were dead, at least.

”By my ancestors,” Kjellfrid said, looking at the scene, having followed Vekyzz for reasons that he would not have known. However, it was clear on a simple thought that the Tiefling was tall and intimidating, odds are she would be using him as a wall to hide from others. Though, the magical flute she carried was nowhere to be seen, having been placed back somewhere on her person. The brith, looked at Vekyzz and then back to the mage and guard.

”S-should we help him?’ she asked hesitantly.

”Help whom ?” Vekyzz almost snapped back, the brith recoiling from the response. It was pretty safe to say that seeing the scene ahead had not helped his adrenaline level go down again. ”And help with what ? I can try to heal some wounds, but I can not help making a madman sane again!”

Having made this kind of statement, the tiefling raised his rifle and pointed it right at Karlus before approaching him carefully. Once he stood right next to the mage’s feet, he used the barrel to gently touch as much of the unconscious man’s cheek as there was reachable. Maybe the feeling of cold metal forged into a very lethal form would help to wake him up. If not there still was Vekyzz’s voice, even though the tiefling always found it odd to do anything else but whisper when using it: ”Hello there! Wake up!”

”Kjellfrid ? Take care of the guard. We can still come out of this without anyone having been killed. We have to!” Vekyzz added, not turning away from Karlus for a single moment.

The bard moved forward, slowly getting closer to the guard before crouching next to him after making sure he truly was unconscious. She looked at the bent and near shattered armor, noting the smoke coming out of it in a rather large columb. Though, Kjellfrid first took away the weapon of the guard, setting it behind her in a clear bit of paranoia, either of dying or just the sight of the weapon in general. She looked to Vekyzz, silently watching his gun before turning back to the guard and trying to release him from the armor.



Collaboration between @Lauder and @Fetzen
Things could’ve gone a better, to say the absolute least. Annabella could only watch in shock as Karlus bent the very fabric of reality around him in a glorified temper tantrum. The orc rubbed her forehead and let out a harsh sigh as the dust began to settle. She was so close to getting a peaceful resolution. This close. She would’ve succeeded had the mage kept his composure and even prevented the barkeep from being arrested. Reshnok far durza narbak. she muttered



At this point, she didn’t care whether they found the mage. She’d rather have nothing to do with him at all. However, she couldn’t let someone like that run wild in a populated city like this. Who knows what he might do if threatened again? More importantly, she couldn’t allow Cristopher to be thrown to the wolves for going along with her plan. No, something had to be done. Something drastic. Hopefully her bluff would be as good as her diplomacy. Balling her hands into fists, she stepped right up to the captain. Even as small as she was among her own people, she was easily a full head taller than him and then some. Release the barkeep and we will help you capture the mage.

Armonte didn’t back away from Annabella’s stature. He raised and eyebrow and tilted his head at her proposal. “Cristopher? Why would his fate matter to you?” He closed his eyes and pushed a finger into the intersection of his nose bridge and forehead. He sighed. “ Do you think I want to jail him? He was a good friend...is a good friend. The situation is out of my hands. This city is tearing itself apart, and if you aren’t with the crown then you’re siding with that bastardo child-murderer, Dantel.” He took a step back. “No, Cristopher knew what he was doing.

Then perhaps I should enlighten you so you know what is about to happen. We, she gestured to herself and the party, "are taking the mage and leaving with him as soon as we apprehend him. We will remove him from the city to prevent any further harm. In exchange, you will release Cristopher and drop all charges against him." As much as she didn’t care for the violent and clearly unhinged little wackjob, there was clearly a reason for him being with the party. She could only hope it was a good one.

If that is what you intend to do, so be it. I will not release him. I will not punish my men to save foreigners that have proved themselves to be my enemy, even if it is for Cristopher. He is lucky he’s managed to stay alive as long as he has with his mouth.” His face twisted in contempt. He took a more firm stance as he tightened his grip on his dagger. “Do what you will, but you will kill me dead before I let that mage go.” Armonte managed to choke out the last few words. His brown hue was made red with passion as if he was speaking passed the party. So too did the white of his eyes slowly redden and begin to water. Though he was content to obscure it from view.

The orc stepped forward until she was just close enough for the proximity to be uncomfortable. She leaned down slowly until she was eye level with the man. There was only one chance for this to work and no room to be soft.How much blood do you think your gloves can hold, she asked calmly.

Captain Armonte let out a small grunt followed by a sniffle. He looked bewildered as if the passion from before mixed with confusion. “Is that some kind of threat,” he asked not backing down from the orc.

Annabella shook her head slowly. "No, little captain. I’m just curious. How much? The blood of one man? Could your gloves soak up the blood of five men, perhaps? A dozen? You saw what a single member of our party could do, now imagine all of us. How many men, how many boys playing soldier are you willing to throw at us? How many sons and brothers are you willing to sacrifice for the arrest of one mage and a lowly barkeep? How much blood can you stand to be on your hands? Answer me."
With any luck, she could make him back down without the need for bloodshed.

The look on Armonte’s face was one of animalistic intensity now. His eyes widened with a sort of seething rage, still red and teary. “Haven’t you been paying attention,” he scoffed. “This city is on fire because of one mage.” It seemed impossible, given what little space was left between the two, but the captain stepped closer. “Boys and men,” he questioned as he bit his lower lip so hard it should’ve have drawn blood. “They die the same way,” he was actively crying now. “Fighting someone else’s war.” With that Armonte lunged forward at Annabella attempting to thrust his dagger into her stomach.

A single, guttural swear passed her tusks as she slapped his wrist away with a frog’s hair of space between her and the tip of the dagger. She responded with a measured palm strike at his throat. The last thing she wanted was to collapse his throat. She already felt awful for what she’d said.Then break the cycle!

Armonte coughed and recoiled, trying frantically to catch his breath. Just as quickly, did he lash back out with the dagger throwing a quick strike towards Annabella’s face. He was frothing now, and to the other party members it must’ve seemed a fit of desperation. He was outnumbered with only his dagger. His anger seemed disproportionate, but wild and palpable. The orc’s words did little to assuage his rampage.




The simple sound of a flute broke the seeming violence between the orc and the human, the tension having been cut by a sound far too soothing and far more relaxing than what the orc had felt when the sound of the flute had been played earlier. Looking back, it could be seen that the ghostly form of a flute had once more appeared in the hands of Kjellfrid, who looked at Armonte with scared eyes, and her playing was only a tad bit shaky. However, the effects soon became apparent as those who listened felt themselves become more tired with the call of sleep becoming ever louder.

Once again the brith played her wavering song, and once again did her flute flicker and wane in its form. The erasure ward was enough to render the flute’s song hindered. Each of the party and Armonte began to waver in their stance though no one more so than Armonte. Had he been more composed he likely would have been able to shrug off some of the effects. As he’d swung at Annabella his movement became sluggish. He completely missed the orc and fell to the floor like a drunkard at the week’s end. He stammered a bit, but whatever he intended to say was incomprehensible. He tried to pick himself up, by leaning on a nearby table, but struggled to.

No sooner than Annabella jumped out of the captain's reach did she feel a wave of drowsiness wash over her mind. Her body tripled in weight instantly and she swayed in place. She was vaguely aware of the sound of a flute behind her and she turned, eyes unfocused. It took a moment for her to process what the brith was doing but when it clicked, the orc knew she had to fight the spell. If she didn't, she'd be dead weight for who knows how long.

Annabella straightened up and held her hands looesly clasped at her navel. She took a slow, deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth."Dråsh. Ukór. Limac."


She repeated this mantra several more times until the unnatural drowsiness passed. Many take for granted the raw power of will, but she knew it well. Mountains can be torn asunder, oceans boiled away, and the strongest fortress obliterated if only the will to do so is there. The orc looked on sadly as Armonte collapsed. Guilt and pity swirled in the pit of her stomach as she moved to stand beside him. She laid a hand on his shoulder and quietly hushed him as he struggled." Adesso dormi, Armonte. Mi dispiace per tutto quello che ho detto, non intendevo nulla di tutto ciò. A tuoi uomini saranno al sicuro. Riposati."



Vekyzz too heard the strange song, and it made his so far solid stance waver and the aim he had been maintaining at Sigemund perish. At the same time he could grasp the brilliance behind this idea and complain about it: It was so... undirected... like a poor man's buckshot instead of a solid hit. The Tiefling started breathing more heavily. He needed air! More air or his consciousness might not remain afloat! And he needed to concentrate on Karlus, if not for the sake of catching him then for the sake of just hating him right now! Anger too was a feeling suitable for fighting the effects of magically induced sleepiness.

The moves with which Vekyzz opened the chamber of his rifle, dropped in a quite disturbingly large projectile, padded the empty space behind it with powder that gave of the smell of sulphur and then closed the entire assembly again were a far cry from the swiftness he was used to, but at least he managed it despite the circumstances. Then he pushed himself out of the window Karlus had used before, but with being about four times the overall size and reduced attentiveness his horns left a bit more obvious damage behind. Did he care ? Not now. There was a much higher priority roaming around in this city, possibly still out of control and in dire need of being stopped.

He'd get him. Or at least go to the greatest lengths affordable in order to try it. However Vekyzz also wasn't stupid enough to engage a fiery mage on close range. Disabling Karlus, should it occur, was bound to be a much more unfortunate event for the mage.



Collaboration between @Fetzen, @Jarl Coolgruuf, @Lauder, and @Famotill
The mage’s attack was met with surprised panic from the patrons throughout the tavern. Many of them scattered frantically for the front door, while others seemed nailed to their seats as they stared at the scene before them.

Three of the guards were buried under a sea of wood and wine. Captain Armonte’s face contorted in pain from the blast as he tried his best to worm his way out from under the massive table. With the party in disagreement there was enough time for Armonte to call out to his soldier. “Maldito bastardo, non sta solo li,” Armonte barked through gritted teeth. The only guard unaffected by the blast quickly helped pull the table and wood pieces off of his compatriots by order of his commander. One of the guards was rendered unconscious by the attack, but the others managed to scramble back to their feet.

Captain Armonte drew a dagger from his person without even bothering to look for his sword. He pushed at the guard who had helped pick him up. “Go, pursue the mage and bring him back to me.

But senore, aren’t we meant to bring members of the League to the Pits,” questioned the guard.

Non interrogami, gilipollas, fai solo quello che ti dico,” the captain yelled in return. At his command the guard ran out of the tavern undoubtedly towards the direction of where Karlus had escaped.

He looked towards what remained of the party. “I’ll deal with you all in a moment,” he said angrily. He'd let them bicker among themselves a few moments longer.

Continuing his rampage, the captain stormed over towards the barkeep. “Cristohpher,” he called out like a parent disappointed in their child. He was less angry now, but still stern in his command.

Please Rial, if I’d known the boy was a mage I’d have turned him over to y-” before Cristopher could continue Captain Armonte interrupted.

Enough,” with a wave of his hand he silenced the barkeep. “ You know what happens to people who harbor mages, now. Do not resist, my friend. Perhaps his Highness will be merciful.” The captain placed a firm hand on the barkeep’s shoulder. He looked over to the other conscious guard. “Peri,” he ordered. “Take mister Cristopher.” With a nod the barkeep quickly whisked the tavern owner away. There was little resistance on the part of Cristopher. He only looked over to Annabella, and then the others with a sorrowful look.

Looking over towards the rest of the party, Cristopher paced forward more cautiously. He looked over Annabella suspiciously without saying much other than the occasional grunt. Looking passed the brute of an orc he saw Kjellfrid sitting anxiously in a chair.

You,” he called down to her.

The Brith, who had been watching with terrified since the start of the incursion, could only stare at the captain, before timidly shifting in her seat. Kjellfrid took a moment to muster the courage to get up from her seat, flashes of past captivity filled her mind and the soldiers who were adjusting themselves reminded her far too much of her captors. She could see their insignias, the Wolframs surely had taken this part of the world as well as paranoia came all to easily to her. Taking a single step forwards before she doubled over, releasing the contents of her stomach into the floor. The stress of everything had made her mind snap in this fashion and she could not help it.

I- I am- she was interrupted once more by her stomach regurgitating it’s contents.

Her stomach quickly calmed itself as she formulated shaky and breathless words, I am sorry.

Armonte’s face contorted in disgust as his body shifted slightly backwards away from the brith and orc. He thought to himself for a moment before looking over the group one more time. “In all of my years serving this city, not once, have I been forced to endure as miserable a company as yours. I’d suspected you were Dantel’s underlings, but given your absolute and profound ineptitude I have been convinced otherwise. I will see you all out of my city by nightfall, but first you will assist me in apprehending the mage.” His gave shifted back towards Kjellfrid. She seemed easiest to break.

Who is the mage, I want a name, now,” he demanded. His gaze shifted among the others for a moment before returning to Kjellfrid. “And with Cristo as my witness if you speak lies to me, cat, you will all spend the rest of your wretched lives in the Pits.” He looked to her, meek and silent in her response. “Speak,” he threatened louder this time.

Kjellfrid took a moment to gaze at the man in fear before stammering out an answer, I-I don’t know! I-I-I am here on behalf of the Von Wolfram family! She scrambled to her feet, yet not having the courage to meet the man’s gaze. Her hands fidgeted as her claws met each other.

Armonte looked the brith over with an eyebrow raised. On her small pauldron, he saw it, the insignia of the Astorian noble house. “A brith working for the Wolfram noble house,” he questioned as he gave an inarticulate grunt. “I can only pretend to fathom what you’re doing in my port, then. What I need from you is information about that mage. Did you bring him to this city? He spoke with an Astorian accent. House Wolfram is Astorian. Which ship did he come here on? Something,” as he said his last word he moved closer to the brith. “Give me that, and perhaps you can return home to your Wolfram’s.

I-I don’t know who he is! H-he was on the same ship as I, but I-I came here alone! Kjellfrid said, her voice shaking as she stepped back from the man.

Same ship,” he asked. “Well, then what is your name?

Kjellfrid stared at him for a moment, unsure if she even knew her own name properly or not, but she forced herself to dispel some of the anxiety which would have only lingered regardless. Her heart pounded hard, she could feel her own pulse while merely standing there and looking at this man.

”K-Kjellfrid Bjornsdottir,” she answered, before her gaze turned to the ground as she stepped back once more. A-am I free, t-to go? she asked, her claws continually pressing against each other, nervously playing as the Brith knew not what to do in this situation.

Free, no, but you’ve proven more useful than the rest.” Armonte nodded her off before turning to the others. By this point most of the tavern had been cleared of guests save for a few souls far too mired in drink to do much of anything save bury themselves in their seats.

Armonte sized the warrior up first. He’d been the most antagonistic save for the table-throwing mage. Eventually, he began to pace back and forth as he examined each of them. Next it was the orc, and finally the tiefling.

In due time i will have captured that mage. Should you aid me in that process I will allow the rest of you to leave the city. I’ve sent Cerio after him, the poor boy. You will pursue them both and ensure the mage is brought to me. One of you will stay behind here with me.” His glance shifted towards Kjellfrid as he nudged his head in her direction. “Fail to return, and I will cut her down.” His attention moved again towards Sigemund and Vekyzz. “ Or you could overpower me, tie me up, perhaps even kill me. Cristo knows, I couldn’t stop you all with only this dagger.” He almost chuckled to himself, a surreal sort of smile threatened the sides of his mouth. "Truth be told, the League has stretched us thin. Made boys play at being soldiers. I sent my men away because I knew you could kill them too." His eyes narrowed. “But know this. Do what you will to me... the might of this entire city will be upon you. Where I may have failed The Cedar Bull will not. Prince Stantos will not.” He was close enough to Annabella, Sigemund, and Vekyzz that each could smell the scent of fish and cigars on his breath.

Backing away from them, he held his arms up in a sort of lackluster surrender, though was sure to keep his dagger in hand. “I’d make your decision quickly.


Collaboration between @Lauder and @Famotill
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet