Thinslayer

The Faraway Land

<Snipped quote>

That is rather disturbing... extremely disturbing

@Cuccoruler

Yup. That's why Vain's Victors are such a revolutionary bunch - they're actually civilized and don't eat people.

The Faraway Land

@Thinslayer

She has a rather odd way of expressing that.

@rush99999

It came from her train of thought. When she was first captured by the orcs and dragged to the feet of the Warlock, she thought he was going to put a curse on her, like what he did to Vert. Only, once she got thinking about that, the rest of the scene came to mind. Hence the vision.

The Faraway Land

<Snipped quote by Thinslayer>

While we're on the subject, The Storyteller asked her if she knew how to break Vert's curse without excessive baby-making just before your latest IC post.

@rush99999

She has no idea. That's what the mana stone is for - diagnostics. She'll figure something out once she's collected enough data.

The Faraway Land

@Cuccoruler @Thinslayer

The Storyteller raised an eyebrow at both Vert's question and her current flustered state. "Let me get back to you on that" The Storyteller answered. He then lifted his left hand to his eye level and spoke to the silver ring again. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas on how to break Vert's curse that doesn't involve her breeding like a rabbit?" The Storyteller asked. While he waited for Erudessa to find the right Big Book of Problem Fixes in the afterlife's massive library, The Storyteller lowered his hand and looked back at Vert. "By the way, what's gotten you so flustered?" The Storyteller asked "Is something wrong?".

@rush99999

The Storyteller was met with another vision, but far from answering his question, it only generated more.

You're dragged through the Legion of orcs. Your elegant white dress is in tatters, and all your strength is sapped. Wild, bitter sobs pour from your throat and mix with the jeers of your enemies. They drag you to the entrance of the Tower, a vast obsidian fortress where the Warlock makes his abode. The iron gates open, and they drag you to the foot of the throne, where you're unceremoniously dumped.

You look up. The Warlock himself rises from the throne. Thorny black armor guards his body, and a black crown-shaped mask hides his face. He raises his hand. Then he pauses. "I know just what to do with you," he says.

"The orcs haven't tasted the flesh of an elf in a hundred years."

The Faraway Land

@tex
I'm gonna need a reply soon. The Captain needs to cross the mountains to get into Kazack'run before the Champions reach the mines, or everyone's gonna have a rough time of it.

To stop a Plague

Yurick

Image

Equipment:
* Spirit Eye (hidden under the eyepatch), able to see into the spritual realm.
* Magic Dagger, the conduit for his fire magic.
Gender: male
Age: 19
Notes: Yurick is a veteran battlemage of the Five-Year War. Two years into the war, both sides lost millions of soldiers and had to begin recruiting children to fill their ranks. Yurick was only 16 when he joined, and he was a scholar at heart, not a fighter. He was forced to adapt to the harsh (but effective) Imperial training regimen, but even that could hardly prepare him for the things he was about to do. Both sides of the conflict hated each other with seething fury and gave no quarter to their opponents. Soldiers used any cheap, dirty tricks they could find to gain the upper hand. They killed any of their enemies they encountered whether they were armed or not. They murdered each other in cold blood at every opportunity. No matter how terrible the weapon, no matter how wretched the consequences, if it was deadly, they used it. Men died in the most horrible ways, and no one batted an eyelid.

Yurick doesn't talk about his role in the battle. Records of the war indicate he fought aboard the airship squadrons as a firebomber, and there are hints that he was shot down in enemy territory. Aerial recons reported that he killed an entire enemy infantry platoon before being rescued.

When he returned home, Yurick resumed his scholastic endeavors. His major is Spell Coding with a minor in Alchemy. He wants to become a Mystic Blacksmith, a craftsman of magical equipment, to better the lives of ordinary people through magic and spellcasting.

* Combat: Yurick casts firebolts by throwing kicks and punches. He can generate fire from most of his joints. Alternately, he can charge up a larger fire blast by crossing his arms and meditating for several seconds, then swinging his dagger in the direction of the target.

The Faraway Land

You could talk to Erudessa in the meantime. She cannot respond meaningfully, but she'd appreciate the attention. Or you could chat and get to know each other better.

The Faraway Land

@Thinslayer

No clue what to do or what's going on in group 1. Group 2 looks like it needs people. What ever happened to Gorman?

@Hawlin

Group 1 is awaiting marching orders. I'll initiate someone's subplot shortly thereafter. Gorman, for his part, is relaying messages back to the Captain before joining up with our group.

Group 2 should be fine. They have a more supporting/lore-building role until they join up with Group 1.

The Faraway Land

Sadron withdrew his pipe for a moment to chuckle. "A fool I am indeed, old friend. Their dwarven alliance is fleeting, at best. The orcs and dwarves have been feuding for decades, and even Arandur has been unable to dissuade them. No, I smell a rat. I think it is a ruse to distract us from orcen territory. Fellmore used to pose little threat because it was so fragmented, on the order of nearly a hundred separate states at one point. If they ever united, they would be a grave threat. Already, a hundred has condensed into two. The Warlock is primarily responsible for this, but I have reason to believe other forces are in play stopping him. Rumor has it that his attempt to reunite with northern Fellmore was like hitting a brick wall. The northern orcs were never very influential, leading me to believe that they have found some considerable outside advantage. And it is not the dwarves, because those mountains are nigh-on impassable in either direction."

He reached out and pointed to a rocky region south of the Fellmore pass. "There's good copper here, useful for bronze weaponry. The southern orcs have taken it and used it to upgrade from stone to bronze equipment. The iron mines are not far away, just a few miles west of here, held by a small contingent of dwarves. If I were an orc leader, I would make some kind of trade agreement with the dwarves for the iron, but I'm not sure what the orcs are giving in return, as Fellmore is pretty barren of natural resources. One way or another, we need eyes and ears up there."

@Thinslayer

Xen leaned further into the map, committing rivers, streams, roads and hidden paths to memory as Sadron began pointing to key locations. The only way north is through a pass cut into the mountains, but the road there is just as perilous. However, Xen had just the experience against an overwhelming force. His eyes peered up to Sadron the amber of his eyes dancing as the light of the fireplace hit the iris. "I see what you intend. You should have come to me sooner."
Xen pointed toward the iron mine to the west of the hill, resting on the border of a forest. He knew what kind of tactics would need to be employed for a successful engagement. Surprise was paramount and there was no telling how deep the Dwarves have dug for the rich ore that littered beneath their feet. If the Orc Horde had need of these materials they would have to find it elsewhere, and having a plant so close to the Hill was dangerous indeed. This will be a game of shadows and blood. Cut off an army from its supplies and it will wither, in time, but also grow more dangerous. He only hoped this impromptu squad would be up for the challenge.
"I would advise placing all of your guards on alert, and doubling the posts. We will choke their supplies here... here... and here as we make our way west before cutting north. This will give you some breathing room until you can properly fortify the surrounding areas."

@XenoCyanide

"The rest of you, he said as he turned to the face the gathering, stock up on rations, fill your waterskins, sharpen your blades, and bend the dents from your armor. We set out in one hour from the west gate."

@XenoCyanide

The eight adventurers stood at the entrance to the west gate, awaiting Xen's instructions. The plan: to cut off supplies of iron to Fellmore by stopping the caravans. Sadron held his staff high and gazed at them.

"May the spirits guide you on your journey. I wish you the best of luck. Fare thee well, Champions of Hope."

The Faraway Land

Now for a bit of organization...
@XenoCyanide
@rush99999
@Cuccoruler
@Lord Zee
@Hawlin
@Darkmoon Angel
@Rekaigan
@ineffable
You guys are the Champions of Hope. 8 characters

@tex
@Fyre Unholy
You guys are with the Captain. 2 characters.