Fetzen

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

I guess my current status says it all. But I too would like to see this take off :)

Through the Looking Glass |SinfulSkills & Fetzen|

Finally the day had come. For months Gathran's master had announced to go away on some kind of errand he had not even bothered to tell his apprentice about. Thinking quite frankly, Gathran more and more had come to the conclusion that the old man wasn't putting full trust into him. An abscence that should not last for more than a few days really couldn't be something so important, could it ? So why had his master refused to tell him if it wasn't for a rather strong belief in his inability ?

However and in spite of the ubiquitous presence of magic, people actually blessed with the ability to control it were seldomly born. It maybe was the primary reason for Gathran's firm hopes that his apprenticeship would actually come to a successful conclusion and not something else after all. His master was someone he considered rude and beyond being somewhat strict, but he probably couldn't afford to lose anybody who still could become a worthy successor.

And of course him being away was a near perfect opportunity to try things Gathran wouldn't have dared to do otherwise...

It had become late evening, the sun was hovering low above the horizon and the lower parts of the mage's tower were already cut off from any direct light and merely illumated by that portion that had been scattered. Not surprising, given that the thing was standing in the middle of a dense forest with no village to come for at least two miles. Gathran didn't know if the pond next to it had been there forever or was an artificial creation, but it didn't matter to him anyway. There was a spell to be cast, an -- at least for him -- rather complicated procedure that would last for the next couple of hours.

It was his silent hope that the ingredients dumped into the water would not have any lasting effect. After all Gathran didn't plan on a returning master quickly discovering what his apprentice had done and how he had, let's say 'diverted', some of the supplies given to him for practicing. The immensely broad-shouldered man dared to use his wooden staff for stiring. Why wouldn't the water's damn surface turn ? Could it really be that complicated to create a large mirror ? Those in the tower were all rather small and some of them even of dubious quality if not simply degraded by years of decay. Gathran just wanted something that was even bigger than he himself was, but so far success had eluded him.

Or had it ? In fact something was happening, but it wasn't visible at first and then quite the opposite of the intended. Instead of reflecting light, the water was starting to become even more susceptible for it. Not only the water was transparent, but also those parts of the dimensional barriers in the volume occupied by it. The pond had turned pitch black and left Gathran to believe that he had simply messed up and polluted it, but in fact it was light going ways it wasn't supposed to go and ending up at places he wasn't supposed to know about.

Descent into chaos

Out of the four men, three remained seated on their mounts. Only one of them, the largest and bulkiest, dismounted and stepped towards Bardeck. It soon became pretty obvious that he didn't care much about one's privacy -- he came significantly closer than one normally would when trying to engage in an ordinary conversation. His hands rested on his hips, clenched.

"What do we have here..." he started to murmur from underneath his half-long beard. His eyes started to scrutinize Bardeck, scanning Ferthyr's athletic companion from top to bottom and shoulder to shoulder. Then he turned his head briefly towards the other three and gave a nod. The others subsequently dismounted as well, but didn't follow up.

"Can it be that we've found a deserter ? Hm! What do you say ?" The large individual's voice was harsh and somewhat cold as he addressed Bardeck again. If one looked more closely one could see his hand slowly wander towards the hilt of his weapon. The other three so far did not appear to do the same, but they all were watching very closely.

In the meantime, Ferthyr had found what little chimney there was on top of the hut. His clawed hand clinged around one of its edges as the roof he was standing on had turned out to be somewhat slippery. He couldn't afford to be seen openly, so he kept as low as he could without losing visual contact completely. There was a bad feeling coming up in his stomach...

⊹ 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓼 ⊹ A Role Play Request |OPEN|

@SinfulSkills If you'd be down for it I'd be interested in the combination Human x Mythical Individual, Fantasy world and Explorers or Treasure Hunters on a mission. I think we've already had contact with each other :)

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

Having glanced over my character once more I've noticed that a thieve's equipment like lockpicks, climbing rope and other auxiliary stuff have accidentally been left out. If it's okay I'd like to fix this issue.

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

Well as far as bears and mages go I'm completely innocent.

All Gartoj needs now is a decent bear-saddle. "Wait... you say you won't be able to go bearzerk for a while ? Alright, no problem. Can anyone else ?"

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

So just to avoid confusion why I've straightforwarldy posted in the char-section: I and Rilla have done the discussion stuff via PM :)

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

Gartoj

_{Nahelus @DeviantArt}

Race: Drow (male)

God: Lloth

Age: 29

Class:

• Major: Scout/Thief
• Minor: Basically the same, however with friendly-willed people around him he is willing to share his mathematical and analytical intellect for making plans. And he not only loves food, but also can prepare it relatively well.

Personality:
For the most part Gartoj is a calm man, pushing him to the point of an outrage by the mere usage of words can be considered a small achievement. However this property, benign as it is by itself, comes with the downside of him not being very empathic either. He's a bit like an iceberg: Just sitting there and listening to his surroundings, dropping a few dry and sometimes cold comments here and there. The moment he senses grave mental inferiority or personal desinterest for any reason he doesn't exhibit arrogance, but picks up speed and more or less gently nudges anyone aside who happens to be in his way out. On the other hand however there are areas in which he can break loose very seriously: He loves eating, especially in vast quantities. Also alcohol can be a thing, although he's no match for any real dwarf in that area. These are the moments during which he warms up considerably. He has no problem with stealing and a little bit of betrayal here and there, but killing is something Gartoj's really not fond of. It's an act not seldomly indicative of an insufficient amount of effort having been spent on thinking about alternatives. If he comes to the conclusion that there indeed is no other realistic way around it however his conscience doesn't have much of a problem with it, too.

Appearance:
At first glance Gartoj does not look like a drow. Those people are small, lithe and otherwise rather unconspicuous. He however, due to the condition of giantism, is a wall. Most people have to crane their necks in order to spot the pointy ends of his ears, situated at a height of a tad over eight feet. Moving this enormity, let alone allowing it to climb a rope, naturally comes with great quantities of muscle, even though not excessively visible. His belly region is quite soft due to a few bad habits of him -- he didn't have to bother about maintaining any coordination with the appearance of the vast majority of the drow population anyway. His skin is that of someone who doesn't like the sun and so is his hair, but the most remarkable thing about his rounded face are his eyes: They almost appear as if a fraction of his soul is looking through them.

Spirit animal: A raven.

Equipment:

• Clothing primarily made out of black dyed wool, thin leather and only very little amounts of metal for reinforcement in certain areas.
• A large cloak with some parts made out of fur that he can wrap around himself to a more or less complete degree.
• Two large, human-made swords. Why he has got them ? Well... they looked so nice, so he took them with him. Actual usage is another thing he didn't bother himself with at this point.
• Supplies for several days: Salt meat, bread, water. Even some wine.
• Additional waterskins for the special purpose of his magic.
• Some other, minor utilities like flintstone for igniting a fire or a small knife.

Skills:

• Major: Gartoj knows how to gain unauthorized access -- be it by picking the lock, launching a rope up to the roof and climb it or by recognizing an opportunity when it occurs. He can move around with very little noise and visibility, and be it by triggering confusion when the time is right. What he can't do however is all of this while maintaining anything near great speed. There'd just be too much creaking from the wooden floorpanels below...
• Minor: Sometimes it is necessary to temporarily disable a person who'd otherwise disturb your activity. If Gartoj can knock somebody out from behind, he can also try to strangle and kill that person. His problem is that so far he never felt fit to take such drastic measures, so while he'd definitely have the strength and equipment necessary to do that it is nothing but a theoretical scenario at this point.

Magic:
Gartoj, much like many of his kind, is a very proficient user of magic. The thing his soul is aligned to is ice and coldness in general, however hand in hand with his lack of any combat training goes the fact that he pratically never uses that with offensive intentions. While he does like covering his swords in a layer of ice for demonstration purposes, one probably won't see him actually trying to use them with that addition. It wouldn't make much sense since he wouldn't have the skill to wield them efficiently. What can happen though is that puddle of water in front of your feet suddenly being converted, causing you to slip in a very nasty manner so you can't pursue that drow in front of you any further. Or he opens that especially heavy door by the brute force of freezing water or the elegance of an artifical key carved out of the solidified element.

Strength:
If one could only use one word to describe it, a good candidate for this would be 'cunning'. Gartoj is very intelligent and quick to adapt new concepts. It has allowed him to find a -- though not exactly 'honest' -- profession that most people probably wouldn't imagine for him. Along with this goes his magic: Hardly used for open fighting and probably less suited for this than other kinds it still must be considered impressive in its own way. Also one most likely doesn't feel all too comfortable if he suddenly starts wrestling with one from behind.

Weakness:
While Gartoj's condition has not influenced those typical traits of a drow that aren't physical, it certainly has taken away some of the others. He's very, very far away from being lightweight and, unsurprisingly, also pretty much from being fast. Being extremely strong did not lead to him carrying anything more protective than his usual combination of black wool, fur and thin leather. Real, high-quality armor would be unaffordable for him. He has never subjected himself to anything like a 'professional' training in open combat anyway. So... once he's forced into one he does have a problem.

History:

Hider

Gartoj was born somewhere in the midst of the artificial jungle named Port Jinn. At least at the point of his birth there existed an entire little quarter primarily inhabited by drow. Not really welcomed except for in the Wizard's Academy maybe, life conditions weren't exactly favorable. Still Gartoj could enjoy a childhood devoid of any major disaster: his father Alviel worked at the docks administrating the flow of goods, his mother Tana attended the wizard's guild in an advisory role. Relatively soon in their child's life it became clear that something was wrong. Soon he stood nearly as tall as his parents, and only a few years later his dimensions exceeded those of even the strong workers at the docks. This posed problems not only from a pratical point of view -- he just was so different from his kind that levels of acceptance were low. It was a circumstance that made Tana's and Alviel's decision to send their son to the wizard's guild all the more easy. Better to separate him from the plebs and put him into an environment consisting of people deemed to be more educated and understanding than not.

There occurred a litte problem however. The problem's name was Gartoj and it had the demeanor of a rascal slowly drifting across the boundaries posed by law and order. While he was brilliant and capable of lashing out at his mates who failed to comprehend within hours what he could write down in minutes, he also severely lacked discipline in other areas. When it ultimately came out that his incredibly long fingers had virtually croached over the line and helped him commit what probably had not been his first theft the young man was expelled. Not only from the guild, but also basically from his own family which had to do something in order to avoid too much shame falling onto them. While they did not explicitly force him to leave, the signals were next to unmistakable and he left on his own account.

Port Jinn was soon behind his back and Gartoj wandered north. This is the point where this story starts. He's still growing and thristing for the things that will allow his magic to do the same.

Post color: #ff9900

Post sample: Link

Descent into chaos

Ferthyr had found the last few days to be quite an exhausting endeavour, so it probably wasn't all too surprising to see him having succumbed to a deep slumber that had already lasted several hours. Bardeck's hand, large as it was, didn't make him wake up immediately. It was only after several seconds of additional heat transfer between it and him that he finally opened his eyes. "What's up ?" he asked, a little bit unnerved and impatiently. Ferthyr, in his sleep, had not recognized his companion's sentence about the four men.

Those however didn't fail to make themselves noticeable again. The sound of hooves impacting onto the halfway soft ground that hadn't seen any rain for as long as two weeks came closer and a change in its frequency could be heard. The four riders were coming down the other side of the hill, approaching the hut in almost the most direct way possible. The elongated downward slope made them more cautious and slowed them down.

"Please tell me this isn't true!" was Ferthyr's comment as he battered his eyes to clear out any excessive fluid that had accumulated in these early hours and blurred his vision. Then the demonic looking man flipped around, turning himself onto his belly before pushing his body up to its full and not that impressive height. He flapped his wings to dust those off, too. "Any suggestions ?" Ferthyr didn't feel fully prepared for a fight, however if those men would come here such a thing most likely was inevitable.

Bardeck's companion thudded over towards one of the small windows the hut had been designed with, but he didn't dare to stick his head out. "Can't we hide somewhere in here or something ? Or maybe at least could you try to give me a leg-up to the roof as long as there's time ? Up there I'd be in less of an immediate and close-range trouble." Or maybe they both could surprise those men from above once they were down the hill ?

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

@Rilla Would it be legitimate to send you the CS via PM first ? So in case there's something requiring serious discussion it won't stack all up in the interest check ? (Haven't even started yet writing down by thoughts)