[FL] Fantasy Lynching: Blood alone turns the Wheels of History

[Cracklord]

One Hundred years ago
The figure had collapsed, the faint panting of his breath the only sign that he was alive. He looked gaunt and emancipated; the meat and muscle on his bones faded away, his once impressive build now scrawny and malnourished. His hair haloed his head in a black tangle, and his skin was tanned and burned from exposure to the elements. His clothes were rags, and his back was scarred horribly from the lash of a whip. It seemed impossible that he was alive, and yet he was so, some terrible force pushing him onwards, until at last it had abandoned him, left him to die far in the north, where even the wolves could not survive.
Above him the branches of tree’s reached to scratch at the sky, thin and skeletal in winter, coated with frost and rime. Around them lay snow, thick and undisturbed. No one ever came this far North. There was nothing to disturb him as he died. Nothing to see it happen.
The figure’s back was decorated with what looked like tribal markings, fantastic whorls, swirls and curlicues, some done in blue ink, others more cruelly scarred on with a flat edged blade. The tattoos seem to writhe and twist, as though they had a life of their own. What rags were left on his body were stained and worn, frayed around the edges and barely held together. He looked more animal then human, and he stank of filth, and death. Those animals who saw him shied of him, afraid of the figure beyond reason, even in the starving depths of winter.
The figure lay motionless for what may have been a moment and what may have been an eternity. Then there was a faint hiss of indrawn breath, and he spoke, his voice soft shaking with inhuman intensity as he stirred. "I am the mountains, I am the winter. I am the land, and the bones of the hills. I am destruction, and vengeance. I am a ghost, a shadow that walks." His words blazed in the night, seeming to give him strength, as he slowly pulled himself up. Staggering forward clumsily he took one shaky step forward, then another, then a third.
"I am a warrior betrayed, a friend cheated, a pawn cast aside." He said, his words growing in strength and power, his back slowly straightening. "They broke me, humiliate me, and tried to kill me. They forced me on all fours like an animal, left me crawling on my belly in the wilds. They cursed me and threw me aside, and drove me away and left me to die. But I did not. I will see their towers in ruins, their power broke and leave them broken to writhe in bloody dust." By this point his voice was a roar, a deep, primal, fiery sound that rang with conviction, not belief, just raw certainty. "I am not finished. I will never stop. I will never give in." He growled, his limbs trembling with the effort of keeping moving as his mind hardened into a single point of unbreakable will. The wind roared its approval as he did so, whirling and dancing, as thunder rumbled above. The clouds above hung heavy with rain, but the figure didn't even seem to notice, staggering on, his eyes alight with a burning intensity, a terrible passion that would one day burn up and leave him empty.
"I'm tired of running." He growled, so quietly even he barely heard it. "Let them run from me."


Present

Druss The Legend
Most of The Empire's settlements had been created by the same natural forces that had created its forests, mountains and rivers. Dras-Leona, for example, had been forged by the stone of the great peaks of the Helgrind. It had been a small town until deposits of iron were found under the mountains, at which point it been swelled by miners and craftsmen until it became the industrial capital of The Empire, and what had been simple veneration for the source of their livelihoods had become a fanatic religion.
Terim, on the other hand, had been formed by the flow of the river and the gentle lapping of the ocean. It's calm waters and hidden bay had drawn the first settlements of smugglers and pirates, and then their comrades, who opened bars and brothels, and then the merchants and artisans the burgeoning community had needed, until the criminals had become merchants themselves.
Even Urû'baen was built on the ruins of an Elven city, and it's sheer cliffs had made it a natural fortress for the first ragged hunters who stumbled across it, and their ancestors had dwelled their ever since, using the nearby river to conduct trade, and the valuable farmland around it to become rich.
Beletona was the only city in The Empire shaped by pure, unadulterated politics. It guarded no mountain pass, no rich farmland, no religion found relevance in it and only one, almost irrelevant trade route passed through it.
The city had been built when Surda had been declared part of the Broddring kingdom, as a place on fairly neutral ground where the lords and king of the time could meet. It was out of the way, and sparsely populated, but this was good, as none of them trusted the others not to bring an army. Eventually, when this was no longer a necessary precaution, the city sat empty, relatively purposeless until it had been rebuilt as a vast prison to store undesirables a century before the fall of the Riders. Now? It was the keep where Galbatorix kept the majority of his Southern garrison, and the watch-post for Surda.
It was built atop a flat-topped hill, surrounded by nothing but blasted stone and wasted soil, so thin that the bedrock could be felt beneath it. From the city you could see for miles around, a tactic of the old empire: never let anyone sneak up on you. It watched the skies above as well as the ground below.
You're here as a favor to an old friend, Sieben the poet. You don't have many left, but the wall of the city of Kausta that the Varden are in the process of besieging.
And you made your friend a promise.
You will not let this city fall.

Matt, Gengiz Cohen
The two of you are dicing together, in a tavern near the waterfront as Matt waits for his contact. Being a Ta'vern, huh?
The Band are still in their ships, and The Seachan, or at least the dockmaster, has decreed that no more then two score may leave at a time, which means a lot of them are building up leave at a shocking rate.
You are the only foriegners many of the Seachan had ever seen, and they are giving you odd looks. Just as well you have your glaive covered, the ast thing you need is them to be even more nervous.

Kitiara uth Matar
Your army is in the Hadrac dessert, camped and entrenched, and unknown but you are in Feinstar, here to meet a man who says he can get you to Nuasada.
The city teemed with life, from rodents and insects that lurked around the houses, to larger pets, and the humans themselves. Most of the inhabitants were subdued, their spirits crushed. It was all around you. Shops were closed, market squares were empty, both of merchants and customers, and the streets were all but empty, the few people on them keeping their heads down and hurrying from place to place. Occupation had accelerated the process of decay, and everywhere paintwork seemed chipped and vines created cracks within the stonework.
Occasionally youwould see patrolling Varden troops. Keeping up what little military discipline they had, they seemed far more like conquerors then liberators.
A few hollow eyed children stared at her from the corner of a street. They were gaunt and wasted from starvation, and dressed in rags. Following the street down into an alley that was a shortcut to the main road, he noted how choked it seemed, the very air full to bursting with oppression.
Here it is. Zasamael should be here shortly.

Tasselhoff, Tanis
The greatest torture you can perform on any kender is to lock him up;
The greatest torture you can perform on any other race is to lock him up with a kender.
You are imprisoned, within a small cell of dark grey stone. There is fresh straw on the ground, a wooden bench, a few hunks of bread, a jug of water, and no windows. The door is a fearsome thing of fossilized oak bound in steel designed to sneer at a battering ram, despite it being impossible to get one around the corner, and the only light comes grimy and second hand from a small, opening barred with bars the size of your wrist.
You've been in here nearly a month, and Kitiara has shown no signs of letting you go yet, questioning you or even talking to you. She simply holds you here indefinately.

Gimli, Legolas
You do not think this is Valinor. The shores are not white, the city in nowhere to be seen, and the beach is smooth pebbles leading to the foothills of the mountains. The mountains of the Spine loomed above them, rough and craggy. While the mountains of Middle Earth that GImli had loved were noble giants, even the Misty Mountains infested by Goblins, the Spine was like exagerated foothills and sharp, black volcanic rock. Everywhere you looked there was something hard, something sharp, something that could kill you.
There were no passes or way through, no roads or any other sign of civilization in sight.
So why did you get the feeling you were not alone?

Morianne, al'Lan Mandragoran
The Earthking should awaken in the Midlands. Unfortunately, the Midlands is massive, and you are limited. You are in the capital, Ayndyril, hoping to find word of his wereabouts, and being entertained in Wizards Keep by an elderly wizard, skinny and rawboned with long white hair and plain brown robes who has not stopped eating, and is explaining at great legnth his own belief that the Earth king is nothing but a myth.
He is also one of the most powerful channelers you have ever encountered.

Tavi
You pass Vroengard, the ruins of Valyria, said to be the first cradle of civilization where man began. The island came closer, until it was within sight. A massive castle on a huge spear of rock. It was a forbidding place. No vegetation could be seen, and waves crashed against it with incredible force. A grim fortress of crudely cut stone rose above it, far beyond the reach of the ocean spray. It spoke of a squat, primitive power. Designed to be defended. But it was hard to like the look.
One day, when you have time, you'll go there and see what is within. But the seas around are to dangerous, if you dared to come any closer the ship would be destroyed. The oceans were not safe, and ran with liquid fire and other, stranger things. Monserous serpants curled beneath the waves, and there was said to still be the magic of the first men and the grey folk locked within.
The ships were coming to the coast, and the ocean loomed behind, vast and eternal. Ahead was the port of Terim, where Murtagh agreed to meet you.

Lord Angmar
You awake from the darkness in a new age. The golden ring on your finger croons to you, and you sniff men on the air But what's more, you sense your master awaking, and no the time has come once more. Once again, you ride out in search of his ring.

Zasamael
You are to meet a warrior woman, a mercenary who will lend her considerable assets to your cause. You get a sense that she will be important, perhaps even central to your plan.

Grimgor Ironhide The Undefeated, Borgut Facebeater
The 'Ard Boyz all are exhausted, after maintaining the mach North. There is nothing to fight in the dessert afterall, none of them black ladz in armor or the other Northeners. Just sand, and more sand, stretching on forever, no sign of the chaos wastes.
Your ladz are growing restless, Borgut is knocking heads together to stop 'em fighting, and the goblins have all been killed. But that's not enough, you are getting very bored.
What's more, you can see something on the horizon, a dark green blur that looks like forest. Your one eye squints, ignoring the blowing sand and grit that gets caught in it. It had taken everything the world could throw at it, a bit of sand wouldn't stop it. Yep, definately forest.
Beastmen lived in forest. Elves lived in forest. Beastmen were tough and stringy, and made good killing, although elves jut danced around instead of standing still and being cut to bitz like propper warriors.
The forrest seems the way to go. If you don't find water soon warriors will start dying of thirst.

Holo and Lawarance
You are on a road, carrying a supply of iron ore freshly mined. You have nearly a tonne of it, and if you sell it to the D'Haran Empire should almost make almost a five times profit. The road is desserted, nothing in sight but the horizon.

Smaug
You slumber atop your hoarde, noticing not the passing of the ages as you continue your rest within the spine, atop plundered riches beyond imagining, unaware that soon the world would force you awake.

Gaborn Val Orden
On a table stone, hands clasped around the sword he bore in life sleeps Gaborn Van Orden, in all the majesty and power of his life. His beard has grown, a wild, tangled thing of spun gold, and his hair has grown with it, and has been bleached white. Yet beneath it his face is strong and wise, and strangely peaceful. Despite his vectors having died many years ago, his endowments remain, their sacrifice filtering through the ages to empower the Earth's chosen king.
Abruptly, he awakes, a bright figure standing before him.
He is on a hill. The ruins of a tower surround him, and and rugged foothills and lesser hills, trees and scrub surround. He has no idea where he is. And the figure is a man of clay and soild and dirt, of stone and plant, the figure of the Earth itself, a beam of sunlight making it glow like gold. At times it speaks to him like this, and he has learned to listen to it.
"Time grows short." It says. "You must choose." Then it is gone. Beside the table, Borenson, Mystara and Iome sleep still, promised to awaken alongside him.

Mumm-Ra The Ever Living, Rataro
A delegation from The New World Order arrive. A tall, brutal looking, grimy man, with a cape of human scalps and an iron ring on every finger. He dresses in leathers and seems to sneer at everything. His face is grey and palorless, and he is not intimidated by the cyclopean majesty of the ruins of your city. He requests and audiance with you.

[doliest]

Kitiara
She settled in as she waited, her sword visible and her armor and helm more than establishing that she was not someone to be trifled with, and most definitely not someone who's time should be wasted. She had rather enjoyed her walk into the city-the Varden seemed far more like the armies of the Highlords than any 'liberators' she had ever heard of. Except lacking in the discipline that had been practiced throughout, particularly withen her army. She had little question that if she was to....ally with them, then there would need to be a severe look into organization, lest her men die because the Varden's rabble could not follow simple procedure. Nor did they look like soldiers far too many resembled well armed brigands, not a unifying armor piece among them. She could have seized this town with little trouble, and considering their apparent occupational rules, likely hold it far longer than they would. Not that she would ever say her men didn't enjoy the many varied pleasures of controlling a city, but they at least ensured they didn't burn it down while doing so. Unless she wanted it burnt, anyway. Then she let them run wild, but even then, organized enough that they avoided more than a few causalities among their number from the general drunkenness that resulted. She looked to her ally and companion, Lord Soth- a Death Knight, cursed by the Gods to forever blight the world, more powerful in death than more than a handful would ever be in life. She enjoyed his use as a body guard, a general beneath her, and of course a one man platoon, frequently capable of forcing an oncoming group into flight both from the fear that radiated off him and from his power on the battlefield. She had watched him burn down camps and towers like a monster. And he served her unwaiveringly. She had never figured out why, attributed it to Thaksis, boredom, and the payments she offered him. If this turned out to be a trap, not even their famed 'Rider' who had rediscovered the talents of Huma, far more competent than even her own riders, could hold her. And so she smiled, knowing she would soon be securing her position on the winning side. At least when she was done with it.

Tasslehoff
He sang yet another Kender traveling song. He'd memorized all of them, invented twenty more, counted everything and then recounted it twice, and played a thousand games of twenty questions with Tanis. "So, new game, why do you think she captured us Tanis? Maybe she wants to talk about old times! Oh, or maybe she needs our help? Think she forget we were in here? Or do you think she's still upset about that time she accidentally walked into that trap?" He still remembered that incident-she'd screamed something about 'absent minded Kender', which he didn't understand. Was there a new kender? He'd been about to get to that trap after he finished checking that tree he saw an important looking bird fly into. He tried remembering it's color. Gold? Red, maybe?

[Cracklord]

Tywin Lannister
The golden autumn sunlight poured through into the great hall, rich and vibrant against the red stones of the Red Keep. The room was filled to the brim, Lords and Ladies and Knights all on bended knee. Their heads bowed in deference and awe.
Cersei Lannister, the First of Her Name, Queen Regent, and Lady of Casterly Rock held her husbands hand as she walked with head held high to the Iron Throne. A smile showed her lioness' fangs, sharp and deadly as her piercing green eyes.
All around her, below her, they waited. Her own banner men Marbrand, Crakehall and Swyft over there. Westerling, Kenning, Brax, and Lydden too. There were others to be sure, scattered amongst the sea of crimson and gold banners of the lion of Lannister, amongst the D'Harans.
She did not love Richard, and he did not love her. But she loved what he could do for her, she loved hi power, and she loved that she had ensnared him and her children would inherit his empire.
The Kingsguard stood salute, her own brother Jaime leading the white cloaks with sword arm held high. Blades as wicked edged as the ones her son now sat upon. With those blades no harm can come to him, she thought, and if that is not enough- mine own will suffice. For nothing came between a lioness and her cub.
And she sat beside the throne of D'Hara, soon to be the throne of the known world, as a mighty cheer went up. A cheer so loud as to be heard in every sept and inn and farmer's hovel. Under hedges and far up in watchtowers. To every corner of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, all would know.
A viscous thrill raced through her. Hear Me Roar.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your daughter is radiant, your son tall, noble and proud, and your grandchildren are all lined up and ready. Everything is in place. Richard is useful, but it is the Lannisters who will sit on the throne, not him, in the end. It is your children who will rule, and the house of Rahl will be forgotten.
You played servant to his maniac father, ran the realm while he played games of magic, and you will do the same while his son plays at war. But not for much longer.
One of the bards is playing your favorite song. You make a mental note to see he leaves with his pockets full of gold.

"And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear"
You had it written after one of your bannermen betrayed you. Now, if you catch even a hint of another lord thinking about it, you send a bard with instructions to play that song. It seems to work wonders.
Maybe you should send one to Richard's chamber shortly.

Link
The Hero of time was a very very small boy. Really he was. Even if he was sixteen already, he looked a few years over ten. But there was no mistaking what he was. His eyes were cold and hard. Bombadiers eyes. His tunic, green, rough and homespun was not the garments of a warrior, but it was comfortable and practical for the outside. And while the sword was much too big for him, he wore it with a surety that made a thing that should seem comical instead seems dangerous.
All around, the great trees brooded, ominous presences who's branches met over the trail, intertwined like a giant at prayer, filtering all but a few solitary shafts of light grudgingly illuminated the way forward. Moss covered the branches and the scaly bark of the trunks resembled nothing so much as the scaly hide of dead serpents, with hints of gnarled faces in the twisting bark. A stillness as old as the vast primeval forest, broken only by occasional stirrings in the undergrowth. Here, no birds dared sing.
This was no enchanted forest, magical place of wonder. This was an ancient, primal place beyond the realm of the elves, beyond the seasons, forgotten by all but the oldest beings, a place where even the passings of the ages did not touch.
Ahead of him bobs a faerie, barely more then a mote of glowing light with the merest suggestion of fluttering wings. "Hey! Listen!" Navi exclaims. "Something is coming!"

Rand Al'Thor
Terim. A port city, contained behind a white wall, a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick, more then enough fortifications to deal with even the Seachan, assuming cometent enough warriors. In the northeast sector of the city was a towering citadel, which housed the lighthouse. The docks stretched along most of the ocean, where hundreds of ships made port including your own. The city's buildings grew progressively taller from the outside in; the tallest buildings were near the citadel.
Min walks beside you, slender with short hair, and large, dark eyes that she is trying not to stare with too much. She has her hood up, and with her shirt and breeches she could pass as a boy at a glance. Not that it matters, nobody seems to have recognized or be looking for you here.

Auron
You are making your way down the road when you see an approaching wagon, ridden by a young man and a younger woman, barely more then a girl really. You wonder if they'll give you a lift, if only to rest your aching legs. You have been walking such a long time, it seems almost forever.

Lazlo
You bob on the ocean in an open coffin, at the mercy of the ocean currents, burning up with a fever and sunstroke, your lips dry and chapped with the begining of dehydration. You have no energy, the world is little more then a blur. But you still let out a gasp of shock as you bang into a triemme.

Nekron
In the North, behind the woods of Du Weldenvarden, a glacier advanced like a frozen wall, a keep that was known and feared as the castle of Nekron the wizard of ice and shadow.
The cold was coming, and would never recede. And you would rule over a land of always winter.

Wander
You are tracking an army. Of course, you hardly need to track them, they leave a trail any blind man can see, of wreackage, scraps, corpses and stragglers, as well as victims left to die slowly in the hot wind. They do this so civilized oponents, the weakest of the weak as far as they were concerned, would have to stop and and expend valuable resources to help them. Fortunately they are all dead before you reach them, so you are spared having to make a difficult decision whether to kill them or leave them. After the orcs had finished with them, not enough remained to save.
But the orcs were not your enemies. Your enemy was somethingthat traveled with the orcs, though they did not know it. When Grimgor began his oath, he carved a massive monument, an idol to the Orc god Gork (Orcs were not terribly imaginative, particularly when it came to religon. Gork was essentially an Orc, only bigger). That statue was the fourth Collossi, the fifth being in the peaks of the Helgrind. And if you do not hurry, you fear it may slip beyond your reach forever.
You cannot allow that.
So you ride, adn feel the army getting closer every moment.You can almost seem them in the distance now.

Red Sonja
You are in your kingdom, and apon your throne in Aquilona. The Imperial Order has several propisitions for you. One of them is a request by Emperor Jagang for you to marry him.

Tavi
In the ocean below is a man lying face up in a coffin. You can't tell if he's alive or not, but you fear the worst.

[darkblade]

Craft and Holo (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWWETTms5kg&feature=related)

"Awhoooo!" Holo the Wise Wolf howls to the sky as their humble wagon pulls it's way into D'Haran territory. For the first time in months she has thrown off the hood that conceals her cainine ears and walks with her tail displayed proudly as it was meant to be. If Lawarance would have let her she'd have discarded the clothes in entierity to be free of the second skin humans so stubornly wear, it wasn't cold enough here to even bother with it as far as she was concerned.

"Just because the Church isn't active here is no reason to be reckless. Imagine what these people would do if they knew the true extent of your powers." Lawarance warns his companion.

The wolf simply smiles at him not saying a word.

"Just remember to put those back on when we get to the Marketplace. We don't want another traveling merchant to see you and think they can hand you over to the church." Lawarance continues his warning as it falls upon uninterested ears.

"Stop treating me like a child. I am Holo the Wise Wolf. I have forgotten far more than you can ever hope to know in your entire life." Holo replies dismisively.

"I should have left you out North." Lawarance shakes his head in frustration.

"You never would have done that. You are far too kind hearted." With that the two rode onwards towards their destination.

***

Zasamal

The Large Dark Skinned man made no attempts at subtly. Here it was not needed. Cloaked in white and earing a large gold necklace he was the polar opposite of Death itself both in his appearance and unfortunately in his soul.

Anyone else would have been robbed blind for wearing such jewels in public in a place like this but when you are twice the size of most men and carrying a scythe tipped on the otherwise blunt end with a spear point it sends a message. He approaches Kitiara without displaying any emotion in his deep voice. "You are the former Dragon Highlord? Maiden of Lord Soth?"

[doliest]

Kitaria
"That was my rank before the armies fell apart. Mine being the exception, obviously. I don't know where you heard the second title-he serves me. Not the other way around." Soth stands beside her, his armor radiating a deathly cold, that would have made lesser men run in fear for daring come this far, "I serve her." "Now, how may I get in contact with the Varden's illustrious leader?" A hint of sarcasm in those words. This rag tag occupation hadn't filled Kitaria with respect for the Varden.

[Cracklord]

Craft and Holo, Auron
As you come towards the next village on your way to the People's pallace, you meet an old, sage looking man walking along the road ahead of you.

[industrious]

Allecia Ehothorn

The day began as it always did. With a nightmare. It was not a new nightmare, but it did not lack power merely because it was familiar. Rather, its very substance demanded that she weep in fear of it every time it came before her. It was not a nightmare of what had been, of the person she had been, of the Infernal Realm she had escaped, or the things she had done before.

No, this was a nightmare of what was. Of her love, of the Champion descending into hell. This was a nightmare of that man, that self-hating noble man, who after months of research into magicks long forgotten, had gone into Hell to retrieve the one whose soul she had ripped out, whose body now held the Champion. She remembered their last words, their final parting. And the nightmare was simple: that those were their last words, that their final parting was their final parting. That he would descend and never return, or sacrifice himself on a fools errand so that that tortured soul would live.

She wakes from the nightmare, shaking in their shared bed in Verona House. And as the first rays of dawn reach the window, she does what she has done for the past month, since the Champion's descent. She prays. Not to the gods, the Aedra, for while she feels that they exist and guide all things she cannot help but feel unworthy of praying to them, that she does not deserve to ask them for aid. She prays to the Daedra, and hopes for the best.

"Azura. Lord of Dusk and Dawn, and Queen of the Night Sky. Hear me, for I ask for your aid. Not for myself, but for the man I love. Keep him safe and protect him on his quest for redemption. Please.”

And then there was morning.

Rand Al'Thor

Around the Dragon, the world seemed a brighter place. Food seemed more succulent, air more wholesome, and life itself far more enjoyable and bountiful than ever before. The calm before the storm. And the storm's eye.

"It is strange," he remarks, walking through the street. "The city is untouched by war, and it cares little for what it sees as foreign disruptions. It trades with what is outside our continent, and as such, views itself as different than all others. But its walls will fade and crumble soon, for the Last Battle is near. And then there will be no safe place. None at all in the world..."

He trails off, his gaze thoughtful and pensive for a moment. And then he smiles, and the world is bright once more.

"But for now there are children playing in the streets and a carefree current in the air. We can never forget why we fight for the Light, Min. We cannot forget what we are fighting for."

[AnimeKid]

Auron

He walks up beside the cart looking at the two drivers, "Excuse me, my name is Auron. I saw that you have a cart and wanted to ask if I could ride to rest my legs, I've been walking for a long time. I would not ask this favor for free of course. I would gladly exchange my services as a bodyguard for a ride."

Link

He narrows his eyes and slowly removes the mastersword from its sheath and waits patiently for whatever is ahead to show itself.

Lazlo

He looks up to see what he hit and sees the broadside of a ship. He sees someone looking over the bow and waves up at them to signal that he is alive and needs help.

[Colesign]

Tavi (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgARus5JFQY&feature=related)

Tavi leaned over the side of the ship, looking out at the sea, the wind blowing through his black flowing hair.

Then he vomited right over the side, as the ship rocket back and forth.

The problem with a voyage as short-paced as this was the seasickness: not enough time to get his sea legs.

"Furies take me to a merciful death." he moaned. After the first few trips overseas, his family had decided to stop coddling him every time his stomach acted up. Even his wife, Kitai, who had gone below a few moments ago with a curse of "Alerans."

Then Tavi's eyes saw something in the waves. A piece of wood...a coffin... with a man desperately waving for help.

"Man overb-b-baaaaaaggggllllllhhhh!" Tavi said, as the Septimus pitched and heaved back and forth. Wiping at his mouth, he tried again.

"Man overboard! Sailors to attention! Alert the witchmen!"

A sailor ran up in a wet tunic and trousers. "Gaius Octavian sir!"

"Get the witchmen now...agh no time, no time. Listen, Citizen! I want you to hold this end of this rope!"

The young and wet in more ways then one sailor took a hold of the rope: he must have had some Woodcrafting, because the rope automatically twisted itself around his wrists. "Yes, First Lord! Is there anything else!"

Tavi grinned in a way that somehow made the First Seaman feel nervous, and tied the rope to his waste. "Don't let go, son!"

And with that, the First Lord of Alera, leader of the Kingdom of Alera and the Realm Alliance, leapt off the side and into the water.

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
"I don't think this is Valinor, Gimli. Did we take a wrong turn?"
The elder of the two ancients steps off of the boat onto the shore, his dwarven companion following shortly thereafter.
-translated from scottish dwarven accent into understandable English- "I've heard rumors that Valinor was only reachable to select few. But perhaps we've a purpose landing here instead."
"I find your judgement to be precise. However, how should we go about crossing those mountains? The jaggedness makes me wary if we should cross or merely find a way around them."
"Those be not mountains, those are knives pointed towards the sky itself. Real mountains are homely and oftentimes snowcapped. Real mountains are the mouth into the Earth's loving embrace. I've seen anthills more homely than these beasts."
"Truly you are the wordy one of us. Let us look and see if there is a way around. If that fails, we'll just have to brave our way through this mess."

And with that the two companions set off, heading to the left side of the mountains, attempting to find non-lethal passage.

Tanis
"No, Tass. I think she's forgotten about us and gone to do her politics with other people. I believe she's content just knowing she has me and there's nothing I can do about it. Now please, tell me a story. You always were good at relating these things."
Keep the Kender busy. Make him talk more. You can easily ignore his babble when he drags on into something less involving. Maybe you'd get a good hour or two of sleep if he talked. Maybe. Kender tend to like boring and yet exciting people all the time.

[AnimeKid]

Lazlo

He sees someone trying to swim to save him. He shakes his head coming slowly back to full conciousness. If they were sending someone out to get him he would need to be as lucid as possible.

[doliest]

Tass
"Ooh, I have a good one. I was traveling one day, wandering through the woods when I came across this lovely feather. It was red and gold-or was it blue and silver? Oh, maybe steel colored! I never can remember, anyway, the I followed the feather, trying to catch it when I came across this wandering man screaming 'Demons begone!' and I asked him what kind of demons where bothering him and why he wanted them gone, when he-" At this point the story descends further and further into ludicrousness, Tass seemingly forgetting where they are in favor of continuing his story. It's kind of endearing the way their entrappment hadn't truly affected his spirit. On the other hand, you couldn't get a few Kender traveling songs out of your head with anything short of an arrow, now.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawarance

Those robes almost monk like but no monk would carry a sword like that or so calmly approach a cart with Holo's canine features so out in the open.

Lawarance looks over and Holo who gives him a quick nod before turning to Auron. "I think we'll take you up on that offer. I'm Lawarance and this is uh..."

There usual cover story was that Holo was his badly burned wife but that story doesn't hold water when you can clearly see her wolf parts and face, to say she was his wife when the lie was so obviously not needed would cost a fortunate in apples just to get her to speak to him again. "My companion Holo. Where are you heading?"

***

Zasamal

"Of course you do, Lord Soth." Zasamal smirks slightly.

"Tell me then Kitiara. Why do you seek out the Varden? Your servant here alone could dispatch most of their number. What value are to you?"

[doliest]

Kitaria
"I like playing the long shot." It's a simple answer. Therefore, it's almost certainly a lie. Or at least, not completely the truth. "Besides, The Empire would never consider hiring me, and Rahl....rubs me the wrong way. He seems the type to turn on me in the middle of a fight and ruin both our chances of winning for no other reason than he's insane. So, why not work with the group who'll hire me and pay well for my services?" They need her. They need a well trained army. They need the air support. They need a skilled general. Kitaria could turn rag tag freedom fighters into a real army and give them the core army they needed. They are....the most suitable for our needs.

[AnimeKid]

Auron

"No where in particular. I'm kind of a wanderer, so how did you two end up traveling together. It doesn't take much to see that you two are as different as night and day." he says while climbing onto the back of the cart.

[Colesign]

Tavi

Lazio's lucidity is greatly aided by the sudden appearance of Tavi plunging out of the water and onto the Coffin.

"Hail!" Tavi says with a ****-eating grin as the waves buffet the two. "How attached are you to this coffin?"

[AnimeKid]

Lazlo

"None" is the single word response that he gives. His voice is rough, like that of a commander. He grabs onto the Tavi's hand and swims with him back to the boat.

[InyutheBeatIs]

[Wander]

The sound of hooves galloping in the sand fills Wander's ears as he heads towards the Fourth Colossus. The rush of air hits his face, occasionally carrying specks of sand in a vain attempt to bite, as his faithful steed Agro plows towards their goal. They've only stopped to catch their breath, and even then only for but a moment. Now was such a time.

Wander sat down in the saddle, the que for Agro to slow down. He walks off for a bit, breathing heavily from the run, as Wander scans the faint flickers of the army before him.

Deep inside, Wander feels fear. Fear of having to possibly face the army as well. A single Colossus is a bit of a handful on its own, but coupled with an army!

However, his thoughts then reach to a memory. The memory of setting Mono's lifeless body on that altar in some corner of the world. The memory of having a voice speak to him of resurrecting her. The memory of him agreeing to slay these beings to free her from death, no matter what the cost. And soon, any fear, any sick feeling he had in his stomach is wiped away, as though it never existed.

With this, Wander sits up in the saddle and taps Agro on the behind. "Hyaa!" he says with force, commanding the steed to push onward towards their goal.

[Colesign]

Tavi (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnLu-JCwMNo&feature=related)

"Righty-ho." Tavi replies, clutching at Lazio's arm. "You might want to hold on."

Clenching his free fist, the First Lord calls out to the Water Furies that swarm through the water, invisible to the naked eye. They come under his command, and all of sudden a thick cord of water curls around Lazio and the Aleran, lifting them out of the water like the tentacle of a Kraken, and depositing them on the deck of the Septimus.

As two two survivors splutter on the deck, and the sailor with the rope drops the implement and races to find help, Tavi picks himself, leaning on one arm and turning to regard the castaway.

"The name's Tavi." He says, extending a hand.

[AnimeKid]

Lazlo

"Lazlo" he says shaking Tavi's hand. He looks around for a sec and looks at Tavi again and says, "Food?"

[Corvond]

Tywin Lannister
Tywin drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair impatiently, trying to keep the boredom off his features. A tall, spare man, still hard and lean after fifty years, he had a face as cold and proud as any duke of hell, and eyes so bleak and pitiless the excesses of the most deranged psychopath seemed positively warm in comparison. When his hair has begun to recede, he had ordered it shaved off. He was not a man who believed in half measures. He had kept his side whiskers, however, a silver and gold thicket that framed the hard planes and contours of his face.
He was frowning, even on this day. It was said he never smiled.
His mind, however, was elsewhere. His final triumph over the house of Rahl, something that his family had been working towards for nearly the entire history of D'Hara, was of almost no interest to him by this point. Once, it would have been everything to him. But he had been closer to the House of Rahl then most people, all of who were raised to worship them and venerate them, and had seen beyond the screen to what they really ere. They were unstable, and, while retaining great personal power, relied on men like him to actually run their country.
He'd been ruling D'Hara in all but name since before this new Lord was sucking on his mothers tit. What did it matter that it was official now? There were more important things to consider.
When at last the service was done and the reception began, he got to his feet and made his way through them like a lion padding through a pack of jackles. They were lesser beasts, scavengers, parasites and prey. But he was the hunter, the king of the jungle, and they all knew it.
He found himself enjoying things afterall.

Gaborn Van Orden
He relaxed his muscles and stretched them, finding them sore and unresponsive after so long still. And yet the Earth had preserved him perfectly, they had not weakened or atrophied from lack of use.
He looked around, pondering the Earths words, and gaining a feel for the world around him the forest here. At last he stepped down and examined his closest friends, those he loved with all his heart. He gently awoke them, as he had been awoken, sharing a kiss with Iome.

[horngeek]

Mat looks at the man on the other side of the table, as he throws the dice once more.

...all sixes. Yep. Just his luck. Blood and bloody ashes, he's trying to avoid an accusation of cheating and this was the third all sixes. His luck could be bloody inconvenient sometimes.

[nanobot_swarm]

Nekron
The ice wizard sits upon his frozen throne, resting, preparing for what is to come this day. His subjects, the sub-humans, dare not to disturb him, for his wrath is terrible and great, just like the glacier he resides within. Suddenly his pupil-less eyes open, and the glacier begins to tremble as if it were falling apart. Outside of it pillars of ice expand out and shatter, paving the way for the rest of the glacier to move forward, which advances like a marching army ten-thousand strong. Nekron is shouting and yelling with pain the entire time, as if someone had lodged a knife into his stomach, his muscles clench as he grips his throne, going to a point where it would almost shatter.
Eventually after ten minutes of this undertaking, he stops exerting himself, and the glacier ceases to move, and goes completely still. His breath becomes heavy as he reclines back into his throne and closes his eyes to rest again. The glacier had advanced about ten miles, and had probably annihilated a village in the process, but the lives lost would bother the ice lord in the slightest. Sub-humans emerge from the Glacier and descend upon the lands, to raid and pillage small settlements for supplies.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine sat and listened to the old wizard with a polite smile. She looked over at Lan who just sat that, waiting for her orders like always. She then turned bak to the wizard and spoke up.
"Are you sure he is nothing but a myth? I am under the impression that it is otherwise. Don't you think so?"

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
The ambassador is greeted by one of the mutants, an apeman by the looks of it. He quickly rushes inside the Black Pyramid to tell his masterabout the arrival, making monkey sounds along the way. A few minutes after the apeman disappears into the pyramid, a voice can be heard.
"Enter the Black Pyramid then," the voice is dry and crackly. It sounds like the voice of someone who doesn't have a throat. It then adds, "If you dare..." The voice began to cackle, a horrible laugh to say the least. It almost made a person went to claw their ears off.

[Draxx]

Druss
The moon hung like a sickle blade over the city, and a massive warrior prowled the wall, his mere presence lifting hearts and bringing hope. Druss watched the camps below in the lunar light.

Thousands of warriors were gathered there, and tomorrow they would come charging over the blood-stained ground, hauling their ladders, carrying their grappling irons, and the battle to the death would begin again.

A huge figure brooded on the walls, and all the soldiers near by felt their hearts beat faster in his presence, as the world was sharper, and they themselves felt stronger.

Druss. Druss the Legend, the savior of Skeln pass, who had battled his way across the world to rescue his wife. Druss the Axeman, the Silver Slayer. He was known by many names, his face recognized almost everywhere. His presence here inspired hope, that rarest of emotions.

People who didn't have a patriotic bone in their bodies and had been forced to fight for the Empire found themselves lining up, determined to fight to the last to defend themselves against the rebels. Men who would have fought and died now welcomed the chance, and the threat of death no longer seemed so fearsome. They felt themselves to be heroes, in the midst of a legend being written. It was a heady feeling.

He was clad in black leather over chainmail, a helmet decorated with silver skulls, and carried his monstrous butterfly axe, Snagga the Sender. The rain left tiny gleaming diamonds on the leather, that cracked in protest whenever he moved. His thick dark beard, shot with silver was wet, yet still stuck out stiffly as though defying the rain. He refused a cloak, disdaining the elements as he disdained his enemies, daring them to slay him. So far none had even gotten close.

It struck them that Druss was the human embodiment of this ancient fortress, unbeaten and yet eroded by time and wear, less then he was, yet magnificent for that.

Myth stalked along the walls in the hero, as he stopped along the sentries, raising spirits with a few words of encouragement, or just offering company for a while. Most of them felt awkward, what was there to say to him? Yet somehow they found themselves opening up to him, and he made their fears and worries melt away, inspiring them to valor with little more then a few exchanged words. It seemed almost impossible, and indeed he left many of the soldiers convinced he did have supernatural powers.

Gengiz Cohen
Cohen knows enough about cheating to write several books. At least, if he could write, and could afford the criminal waste of paper. On the cold steppe, many a life had been saved with a flint, steel, and a dry book, and if you needed to go to the lavatory and were short on soft paper a book was you're man every time.

When people tried to cheat him, he tended to nail their hands to the table in a bluff, easy going way, and leave them to learn their lesson. But by the same token, he had all the ability to control his considerable fortune as a man would have trying to herd cats. He had lost more money gambling in his lifetime then the contents of any major strongbox.

Conan was tall, and very old, of the skinny variety that often get's called spry, with matchstick limbs and considerable sinews which varicose veins had traced, branched and forked like rivers.

He was totally bald, with a thin beard that stretched almost down to his knees, and an eyepatch beneath his bushy brows. His other eye, however, gleamed with a fierce, hard cunning, the sort of eye Matt saw on experienced generals and leaders. A fine latticework of scars traced aroung his face, and his teeth gleamed.

He wore nothing but pants, boots big enough to hold an additional pair of feet, and a massive sword belted to his hip that looked much too big for him to use. And yet, somehow, you have no doubt at all he can.

Cohen waits until he has your full attention, then smiles. It was a slow, lazy smile, unveiling about a thousand carats of mouth jewelry, and seems to light up the room. He holds it for a moment, then picks up the dice rattles them, and slides a pair of gold coins into the table as a wager. They're so pure he leaves fingerprints on it.

"One more, eh?" He asks, and rattles the coins. "What do you call?"

[horngeek]

Mat shrugs. "I'll call it."

He slides three coins over, to match the purity of Cohen's gold coins.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawarance

"It's sort of a long story..." Lawarance says akwardly as he adjusts the cargo so that there is room for Auron in the back of the wagon.

"Are not opposites just two parts of the same whole? Why should it come as a surprise to an ancient guardian such as yourself that a wolf girl would attach herself to a simple mortal merchant." Holo muses.

"Did you just call me simple?" Lawarance asks angerly throwing his head up to defend himself without looking and hitting his head off a crate of ore and falling back to the ground.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha! AWOOOOLLAA!" Holo howls in amusement. "You can see why I keep him. He is quite amusing isn't he?"

***

Zasamal

"Under usual circumstances the Varden only employ those that can find them on their own but these are special circumstances." Zasamal ponders as he eyes up Kitara.

"So naturally the question comes to what would I recieve for directing you to the Varden. I have little need for them to be organized into a proper army."

[doliest]

Kitaria
"Now the important details then. How much steel would it take for you to send me along?" She leaned back in her chair, expecting a rather large sum to start with that she'd have to barter down from. Or maybe information-always a rather obvious market. Soth stayed quiet, feeling a threat wasn't the best way to handle this. Yet.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Right! Food! We've got tons of food! Most of it is salted, but we've got some fresh food in coldstone storage! This–"

Suddenly, a swarm of guards in Lorica Segmenta swarm up from below the deck, led by a man in a threadbare Tunic with huge brand on his face. With the smooth movements of drill, the Soldiers surround Lazlo. The scarred man rests a hand on the hilt of his short sword, and...

"Araris!" Tavi barks. "Stand. Down. Lazlo is our guest, and we can't very well evict him into the ocean, can we?"

Araris, after a moment, relaxes. "Stand down." The men stand down. "Sire. What do you wish me to do with this 'guest'?"

Tavi, who's apparently a Lord of some kind, shrugs. "This is hardly the time to be paranoid, Araris: we're on a diplomatic mission. Which involves being peaceful. So let's put a good foot forward, and give him a nice meal. Invite my family too: uh, Kitai, Isana, you, and Max. And Ambassoder Varg. How's that?"

Araris nods. "Of course, my Lord." As he and his men form up behind the two, Tavi walks toward the deck underneath, and suddenly staggers.

"Urggh...you know what, Lazlo? You can have my portions just this once."

Tavi looks fairly green at the gills.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"I have no interest in currency or any information you would posses. What I want is a favor. Among the ranks of the Varden there is a child prodigy in the arts of war by the name of Eragon Brassoom. Earn his trust and teach him everything you can beyond what you do for the rank and file. Is this acceptable?"

[AnimeKid]

Auron

He lets out a small smirk as the merchant faintly reminds him of an old friend. "Even if he is amusing you should be more careful about how you treat those helping you. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you" I believe is the quote. Judging by your features it isn't to hard to guess that you aren't generally accepted in public and strong or not the fact that you hide means that there are things that can kill you or possibly that you are being hunted. Therefore the man is obviously helping you hide as it is very likely that your reckless and playful attitude would cause to blow your cover very quickly. Though the man doesn't look like he could make up a cover story to save his life he is still hiding you. And after all is only common courtesy to repay kindness with kindness in return. Though the fact that you mock him may just be your way of showing affection, I wonder...." He says this all in a manner that sounds that he is merely stating the facts, a tone that Holo is probably going to hate by the time thier journey is over.

Lazlo

The moment he was surrounded his hands went to his swords, that is until Tavi diffused the situation. Seeing that the possible threat had passed Lazlo relaxes from his combat posture. When Tavi offers his portion of the food he merely nods. When they head to the lower deck he asks, "Destination?"

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawarance

She does not take that well as her reaction starts by baring her canine fangs and letting out a low gutteral growl that should not be able to come through a human throat. "How dare you speak to me like that? I am Holo! The Wise Wolf! I know well the dangers of the world far greater than you!"

With that she gets up and takes the seat inside the cart that Lawarance had prepared for Auron. In silence Lawarance takes the driver's seat again and motions for Auron to take the passenger seat. As they start on their way again Lawarance explains Holo's situation to Auron. "She is rather sensetive. Comes with being a nature spirit without a home anymore."

[Falgorn]

Ironhide and Facebeater
Grimgor Ironhide had grown tired of his boyz constant whinin', and he swore that he would kill em' all, nice an' proppa one day or the other. The massive orc grunts, a smile crossing his ugly green face. "All right ladz, you all are cream crackered an' whining. That ain't like da orcs! That ain't da WAAGH! Now, you all like fighting, right? Know what I mean?!" The 'Ard Boyz let out a feral yell. "Blimey! Right! Now we're gonna' go in'er da fawersts, an' give some beast blokes a lesson in pain an' sufferin'. We're gonna ter destroy 'em, then we're goin' ter destroy those elves an' all! We'll wrong turn da whole damn fawerst ter da ground. Blimey! Now qui' your damn whining. The Waagh is gonna continue, whether you like i' awer not. Nuff said, yeah?"
A scream of Waagh! was yelled, from all the orcs gathered in the desert. "Now saddle up ladz, there's killin' ter do!"
The Waagh! is on the march again, heading into the forest. The ladz can get water there. Orcs don't die from not fightin', Grimgor thought. If they start dyin' of drought, that's dere fault fer not bein Orcy enuff.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"We're heading to the port of Terim, friend Lazlo, where we shall trade goods, establish diplomatic relations, and teach people about the Aleran Nation."

Tavi says this with a quick laugh: still, he seems to be holding something back, something grim.

Lazlo and Tavi walk down to the lower decks and down a hall to a dining room: outside there is a strikingly beautiful woman in a silk tunic and trousers, two swords at her hips. Her hair is pure white, her eyes canted at the corner, and the eyes themselves the same color of emerald green as Tavi's. She's also a few months pregnant, the bulge of her stomach indistinct but just noticable.

"Chala." She says in greeting, then follows it up with a kiss and embrace. "I heard that you caught yourself a very large fish from the sea." Her eyes examine Lazlo. "A handsome fish at that."

Tavi coughs a bit, and turns to Lazlo. "This is my wife, Kitai. Kitai, This is Lazlo. He's...actually, I don't know who he is really, but he seems nice enough."

[AnimeKid]

Auron

He takes his new seat. "I understand, however she is wrong about knowing more dangers than me. Where I come from even common people know of some of the greatest dangers, and there is one that they all fear. Until she faces that monster the danger she faces, at least to me will seem smaller. I don't wish to cause constant offence, however I will speak my mind if I feel it neccesary or if I am asked a question. I hope that is not an inconvenience."

Lazlo

He nods at Kitai in greeting and sits down with everyone else to eat. He can sense that they want to hear his story. He was not one for talking more than it was needed, however thier curiosity was getting harder and harder to ignore. When he finishes he politely wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks towards those in the room. "Would you like me to tell you how I got here. If so I must first ask you a question, what do you know of the Knights of Gaien." This is the first time he has spoken more than one word since he arrived.

[Cracklord]

Rand Al'Thor
Min has a slight spring in her step, and is smiling, enjoying the world. Things have been progressing in a hectic pace, as everything comes to head at once.

Link, hero of Time
No sound. That in itself is strange, there should be birds singing, insects chirping, the rustle of life and the swaying of the trees. So why isn't there?
The entire forest is still.
You step forward, and gasp at what you see. A stone table, apon which lies the figure of an ancient King. Who is awakening, called forth from his slumber by the Earth.

Tavi
You pass Vroengard at long last, and continue down the coast of The Empire, watching the terrible, hostile mountains of the Spine looming to your side. A more hostile, unforgiving shore would be impossible to imagine. You hope the people aren't like that.

Gimli and Legolas
You follow the beach, until you come to a pass. It's narrow and treacherous, but you have a dwarf with you and dwarves do not get lost in the mountains anymore then birds get lost on migration.

Gaborn Van Orden
Boreson comes awake and stands up. At twenty eight, he looks fourty, his face hard and craggy, his beard shot with silver, even a bald patch. But a hard, preserved forty, his muscles have not begun to slide into fat and he carries himself with a steely determination that speaks of a born fighter. His thick, calloused hands clutch weakly at the table for a moment, then he hauls himself up, brushes away the cobwebs of a few enterprising spiders and the dirt that cakes him, and bows to his king.
"So what now, sire?" He asks in a low voice.
Mysarra and Iome are slower to awake. Mysarra is almost heart-breakingly beautiful, her endowments of glamor and her own good genes seeing to that, but she's as dangerous as her husband. A tough, flexible, composite bow nearly eight feet long and forged out of steel sits beside her, one that three strong men couldn't draw without even considering the material it was made from. But then, she was quite a bit stronger then three strong men.

Tywin Lannister
Your son, Jaime, walks over to you, his white cape swirling as he walks. The cloak of the Kingsguard. Another of Darken Rahl's thinly veiled insults.
He wanted to take your heir, to show you he controlled things. And so, at the age of fourteen, he had been inducted to the Kingsguard. It was unquestionable the boy was worthy, he as one of the finest swordsmen and lancers you'd ever seen. But just the same, it was an insult.
Just one more to pay back.
"Benjamin wanted to speak to you father, about your support to his war."

Druss
Dawn comes, a single ray of light breaking the clouds, as it shines on the world. And the Varden begin to stir themselves, preparing to attack again. Siege is being constructed, and soon you'll lose the wall. Matter of time. hen a fall back to the citadel, a few sorties and forays to bloody their noses and dig in and hope for reinforcements.
You've lived through sieges. You can see already how this is going to go. Beside you a young conscript slumps to the ground, defeated and terrified out of his mind.

Matt, Cohen
A few more seats are dragged to the table, as people come to watch the game. There is a clatter as more coins are thrown int the center. Two gold coins was a good sum, and yet somehow everyone seems determined to be part of this even if it means risking more then you can afford.
Well there go your chances of fading into the background and passing through unnoticed. Just your luck.

Moraine & Lan
Zedicus nods his head. "Quite sure, I assure you. Of course, we do have a prophet of our own if you wish him to look over the prophesies, Lord Nathan does take an interest in them."
He takes another sip of his drink, and you can't help but wonder if he is really as small-minded and clueless as he acts.

Tanis, Tasselfhoff
The door opens, and the jailer steps in, a big, broad shouldered draconian. His keys are hanging on the loop of his belt.
This is the first time you've seen him.

Grimgor, Borgut
The ladz begin to line up, a few throwing punches or starting brawls, but for the most part listening to you. None of them want to start a fight when you are around, in case you decide to finish it and wade in.
The forest comes closer, the treeline starting abruptly, massive woods that tower above even the biggest orc.

[horngeek]

Mat cringes. More people, more likely someone's going to accuse him of cheating. Bloody brilliant. He just wanted a quiet evening...

at least no one had recognised him as bloody Prince of the Ravens yet. That would have completely ruined his chances of it being quiet.

...although seeing Tuon- sorry, Fortuona- would be nice. He meant to go see her after this, honest!

[doliest]

Kitaria
"Fine. We were going to do that anyway." She stretches back, making herself far more comfortable in the chair, "Though I do have to ask...why?" It didn't really matter, but it would be an interesting piece of information that might have a minor impact on her plans. Or he'd simply lie. Both were likely.

Tasslehoff
Tass looks up, "Ooh, maybe he's come to feed us. You think so, Tanis? Or maybe say why we're here? Oooh or even let us go! You gonna let us go now, sir?" Tass had spent a few weeks with only one person. He was bouncing to talk to others again.

[Cracklord]

Matt
You feel the dice rolling in your head, rattling away. Something big is about to happen, something important, and there was no way to escape it.
If you back out now, everyone will be sure you're cheating, it looks far too suspicious for them to suspect anything else. And if you roll, you'll almost definitely win, and people will assume it anyway.

Allecia Ehothorn
You make your way to a balcony, there to watch the sun rise over the waves, when you behold a face. Azura stares down at you, radient as a second sun in the sky.

Holo and Lawarance, Auron
You have come to the People's Palace. The People's Palace is the home of the Lord Rahl and is effectively the capital of D'Hara. The People's Palace is one of the largest buildings (if not the largest) in the known world and an entire city lives within the walls of the palace. Within is most of the economy of the country, with a market like no other and transactions of every kind taking place behind the walls.
Just the same, it would be best to deal directly with the military this time. A safer use of your investment, dealing directly and cutting out the middleman.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He does, barely flinching at the display, given the atrocities the Imperial Order committed this place practically welcomed him. He makes his way to you throne room, then stops, ceding the initiative to you as he is uncertain of protocol.

Tasslehoff
He grunts at you, and puts down a fresh pitcher of water. Without further ado he turns and begins to leave. You can feel your chances of escape falling away as he does.

[horngeek]

Mat sighs. "All right. I'll roll first."

He rolls, and checks the dice.

[Cracklord]

Matt
You didn't even need to check. The dice stopped on three sixes.

[horngeek]

Matt sighs, and mentally prepares for the barfight.

[doliest]

Tasslehoff
Tass tries to palm off the key ring. He wasn't a very good thief-he didn't know why Kender had that reputation among other species. He just forgot to give things back, or found something that happen to fall near him. Still, he had fast hands, so hopefully he would still be able to get those keys, as strange as it was to take something.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine eyes spark. Finally, a lead.
That would be helpful. Where can I find him?

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
As the man enters the throne room, he will notice that the apeman has disappeared. Before his a wide open, high ceilinged area. In the center, is a small bubbling pool of liquid. It may or may not be water, but whatever it is, it has a deep purple tint to it. Surrounding the pool are four giant statues, basically, they are men with different animal heads.

Across the pool is a sarcophagus, which slowly begins to be opened. Out steps a red cloaked figure, underneath the cloak is the figure of a mummy, totally covered in bandages except for his face. The skin on his face is dull and gray, due to years of not being alive. Not to mention the two red eyes that are on his face.
"Why have you come and bothered me, The Great Mumm-Ra, Ever Living Source of Evil?"

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Knights of Gaien? Never heard of them." Tavi responds. As the weather ebbed, he managed to swallow some food and sip some wine: Kitai sits by his side: at the table sits the branded soldier known as Araris, a woman with streaks of white in her hair who Tavi identified as Isana, and a young fellow with a crew cut known as Max.

"We've got a whole bunch of Knights here." Max remarks. "Aerius, Ignus, Aqua, Terra, Flora, an' Ferrous. Gaien...never heard of them either, Tavi. Mayber the Ambassador...."

With those words, the door to the dinning room bursts open, and a giant wolf creature stalks in, scars all over his face.
http://kmamacker-art.com/log/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/portfoliopg9pp-copy.jpg

[AnimeKid]

Lazlo

"I'm guessing that he is one of your crew as well, if not you can let me take care of him." He says this all very calmly. While that wolf was unexpected he was not worried about his ability to take care of it, his hand hovering over his swords.

Link

He walks forward slowly his hand still on the hilt of his sword. He approaches the king and says, "Hello?" He is ready incase he tries to pull anything. After all he did learn something from all those surprise boss fights.

[industrious]

Allecia Ehothorn

"My Lord Azura..."

The Daedra have no gender, viewing the concept as utterly unnecessary. Still, many of them prefer one or the other, for simplicity's sake. Azura often took a female form, but she was still a Daedric Prince. Allecia had written a paper on it approximately a century ago.

"You heard my prayer?"

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"I have personal reasons to see that he does well for himself for now." Zasamal says not giving anything but the most obvious about his plans away.

He pulls out a world map from his cloak and points out the current Varden base in Surda on it. "You will find the Varden leaders here. Tell them that Zasamal sent you and they shouldn't give you any trouble."

***

Holo and Lawarance

"She's sensetive but she's not stupid. She's usually much more sensible about her prediciment. It's not often that she's free of the Church hunting her down as an abomination, D'Hara is very much against religion so she's safe here." Lawarance explains.

"She'll calm down when she sees the apples this ore will buy us after we sell it to the millitary." The merchant continues as they head towards the nearest millitary barracks within the city.

[doliest]

Kitaria
She leans forward, smiling at him, "Well then, I think our business is concluded-unless there is something else you'd like to discuss?" Soth stands, ready as always in case a fight breaks out...or he decides he wants to kill someone.

[Colesign]

Tavi

Tavi leans back, watching the exchange between you and the Wolf-man.

The Canim leans forward and sniffs at Lazlo, who reacts with calm poise. After a tense standoff, the Canim leans back and slowly inclines his head to the side.

"A brave offer, man-fish. However, the Tavar and I are Gadara," he inclines his head at Tavi, currently being referred to as 'Tavar', whatever that means. "He is the only one that can kill me. Unless I kill him first."

Ambassador Varg grabs a hunk of meat from the table and devours it in one bite, fangs flashing as he rips into the meat. "The Mountain Spine of this Continent is in view, and we draw near the port of this Empire. It's time for you to trade your baubles and try to make peace before war, if you are indeed still fixed upon this task."

"Still am, Gadara." Tavi replies, returning the inclined nod. "C'mon boys and girls: let's take a look at this new world."

The group of people heads up on deck. Lazlo notes that Isana and Araris walk together in much the same way as Tavi and Kitai do.

[The Shoveler]

Gimli and Legolas
"A pass! 'Tis our lucky day!"
"Hold on, Gimli. We need to make sure we have enough supplies before we make a treacherous journey like this. How much food do we have?"
"Well I know we've each got around 8 pieces of bread and we've also got some fish we caught on the way here. The water supplies are a bit low, but we can drink sparingly enough."
"Alright, we've enough for the journey. Let's make haste old friend!"
And with that Legolas runs off towards the pass, leaving Gimli to hobble after him. The two are laughing like old friends should.

Tanis
He sees the gambit that Tass is pulling and goes to pick up the pitcher of water. If he needed to, this could be used as an improvised weapon.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"No we are done for now." Zasamal says walking off into the crowd. He wanders to the other side of town where a Caravan to Urû'baen awaits him. It is time to check in on other key players.

[doliest]

Ktaria
"Pity. It could have been interesting." She turns to Soth and nods as the two leave, heading back to the camp. She'd check on her prisoners after she got them to a real fortress so she didn't need to worry about escapes. She had Tanis. And the Kender.

[Falgorn]

The 'Ard Boyz
Gimgor raises a hand, commanding his boyz to stop. " Lright, ladz. Dere's beastmen in dese ere' woods, so we's gonna go in an chopp em to bitz! But ye best be careful, dem pointy-eared freakz is in de woods to! An' dey always be dancin' around when you wanna' kill em nice an' proppa." Grimgor says, motioning for Borgut Facebeater to join him in the front, where the killing is good.
"Right, Boss. Let's teach these beasties a lesson!" Facebeater shouts, beating his chest with pride.

[Cracklord]

The 'Ard Boyz
Where ten thousand orcs go, they don't need roads. The lush, young evergreens of the ven pressed at their sides, channeling them into a narrow, dark, green, walled route cut through the brush and branches. They could see little around them.
After a time, the ground started rising and becoming rockier, and the tree's thinned slightly, allowing a more open view. The trail twisted along deeply shaded cuts in the terrain and across leaf-strewn ravines. Dry leaves scattered at their passing. Pines and spruce gave way to hadwood trees, mostly white birch, and as the limbs swayed overhead to a silent breeze, tiny patches of sunlight danced on the forest floor.
But there is nothing in sight to fight, and the trees feel like they are mocking you. They is green like orcs, but they hide orcs enemies.

Tywin Lannister
He was tall and golden, favoring long, flowing blond hair and a smile that cut like a knife, crimson silk that matched his dragon, high black boots and a matching satin cloak. The crest over his heart identified him as a noble, and the hard lines beneath the frippery identified him as a warrior.
"Benjamin wanted to speak to you father, about your support to his war." Jaime is not the most perceptive of individuals, but he anticipates your response nonetheless.
You don't like Benjamin. His father was a butcher for Gods sake. Best you work quickly, you can have him shamed and back to marching on walls where he belong

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
"My Emperor wishes to pay homage to you, great king." He replied smoothly, sinking into the role of the diplomat. "The New Order will need allies of your stature if it is to spread it's word across the world, wouldn't you agree?"

Matt
The tumbling dice stop in your head with a rattle, and you sigh, resigned.
The men in the bar were an even mix of big, simple, scarred, worn, drunk and dangerous. One sitting at the door was cleaning his fingernails with a throat-cut razor.
A big, bearded, man with a thick beard and arms like Matt's legs had a rat perched on one shoulder and was sharpening the biggest sword he had ever seen with a wetstone, and a bunch of similar men were seated around him, looking like the opening of hostilities in a mid-range war. The only man sitting at the bar was around forty, slight, his every movement careful, with a single sword belted at his hip, sipping tea.
You'd come here for a good reason. These were people from all over the world, and so there was a good chance at least one or two of them would have something to work with. People talked in bars, and talked while they gambled.
A man with a hatchet face slams a knife into the table, splitting it. Well that was stupid. He'd just more or less lost his weapon, it would be jammed in the grain and never get out.
"Nobody rolls two sets of four crowns in a row. Not fairly. I'll be taking my money back."
Right on schedule, someone threw a punch, a drink splashed in someone's face, someone swung on the rafters, someone else was tossed onto a table, and the scene degenerated into a brawl.

Holo and Lawarance
The barracks is a squat gray building, hard and utilitarian with uniform windows and perfectly regimented discipline. The soldiers have a complex chain of command, and at the moment this is also their headquarters.
You bounce through a bit of bureaucracy, then find yourself confronted with general Benjamin Meiffert himself.
He looks like the poster-child of a career soldier. Tall, broad shouldered, well built and had the typical characteristic blond hair and blue eyes of a D'Haran. He wore the battle armor customary of D'Haran soldiers, nicked and scratched from use so that it looked faintly ridiculous over his full dress uniform and half cape beneath. He gives you a smile as you come on, and offers you chairs.
This is not normal. He wants something else out of you.

Tasslehoff
You manage to lift the keys. He notices however, and becomes angry with you. A clear step up, before you had no keys, and he was angry with you, now you have keys and he is angry with you.
Then Tanis brains him with the clay jug, and the draconian falls unconscious.

Moriane and Lan
Zeddicus blinks, surprised at your sudden urgency. You've carried yourself with Aes Sedai grace and serenity, and the sudden hint of urgency was disconcerting.
"In D'Hara, of course. Lord Richard has him close at all times. But we have a collection of prophecies here if you like..."

Allecia Ehothorn
"Little escapes me, and less still do I ignore." She replies softly. "But it is not your entreaty that brought me here, though know I do feel your suffering as you do, and offer you what comforts I may. Rather, ti is your future, and the future of your realm."

Wander
The orcs make their way into the forest. Any other army would have outriders or scouts, but the orcs march in a vast, untidy sprawl, as though failing to even recognize the possibility of being snuck up on.
The collosus is towed at the back of the horde.

Nekron
Before him was a village of the sort that doesn't even appear on maps. The sort of town that people come from, not go to. The houses were little more then huts, simple with thatch covered roofs and no fences or windows. But it would do.
Your beasts pillage and raid, and take what they want, but the takings are as meager as the people within. The North is a cold, hard place, empty. You long to go South, where the soft Southerners grow fat on riches and never feel the icy bite of winter.

Tavi
Kitai watches the shore as you pass. Her hair is white, and shaved on the sides, leaving just a strip that hangs down her back like a horses mane. Her eyes are slanted and angular, and her features seem delicate but at the same time bespeak toughness. She's not human, exactly, but she very nearly is.
"I don't like it." She said. She overplays the unlettered savage card a bit too much, in your opinion, but her sentiments are easy to agree with. You don't think you've ever seen a more inhospitable looking place.
"Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Terim. A port city, contained behind a white wall, a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick, more then enough fortifications for the soldier in you to nod in approval. All are well designed and made to be defended, it would be an unlucky army that tried to besiege this city.
In the northeast sector of the city was a towering citadel, like some lance thrust up into the sky atop a hill, which housed the lighthouse. The docks stretched along most of the ocean, where hundreds of ships made port everything from merchants to massive warships. The city's buildings grew progressively taller from the outside in; the tallest buildings were near the citadel, so that archers could fire down at the enemy as they retreated.
It is also the Empire's main port, and the webwork of it's trade.

[doliest]

Tasslehoff
"Ooooh, Nasty!" Tasslehoff begins quickly begins undoing the shackles to free them so they could get out of this camp before anyone noticed. The minute he frees himself, he begins getting to work freeing Tanis.

Kitaria
Kitaria, upon returning to the camp, calls her commanders forth, "We have a location. Get the men ready to move out-we'll be negoiating with the Varden in a week or less!"

[Viera Champion]

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He thinks on it. He didn't like having to share the world, but allies would be necessary. He would need to destroy them quickly once they had the world in their palm, before they could turn on him first.
"What are the terms of this alliance?"


Moraine & Lan
Lan frowned at his Aes Sedai. She quickly regained her composure.
It would be much appreciated if we could see them.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

One of the merchants in the square was selling flowers. As far as he could tell, women liked flowers. He still wasn't good with women. If only Mat or Perrin could give him advice...

While Min is temporarily distracted, he makes a quick purchase, and returns with a pair.

"For you, Min."

Allecia

"I am listening, Lord Azura, though I am a poor substitute for my husband."

That wasn't just modesty talking. He had saved Tamriel far too many times for her to be thought of as worthy, even if she hadn't done such horrible, terrible things.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

This was getting more than a bit uncomfortable for Wander. He sat down in the saddle, getting Agro to slow down. At this point, they're at a safe enough distance to not be immediately noticable, made easier by the ensuing chaos, but close enough to get a good look at the Colossus. The Colossus was dissappearing into the forest, along with the orcs that were towing it. If he wasted anymore time, the ensuing fight would have to be in tight spaces, and much more likely to rile the orcs into a frenzy aimed straight at a certain human in a poncho and his steed.

If there was ever a time to try and awaken the beast that lived amongst the band of orcs, it was now.

He pulls out his longbow and nocks an arrow, aiming at the statue's head. He lets the arrow fly. Hopefully, this will be enough to rile it from it's slumber.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"I don't know." Tavi replies. His mind goes back to an older city, the city of Alera Imperia, before it's destruction at the hands of his grandfather, a last ditch attempt to halt the Vord...He brings his thoughts back to the present.

"Still, we can ask about that, Chala! Diplomacy's all about asking questions!"

Tavi gestures Max over. "Max, send out flyers to the other ships of the fleet: tell them to hang back until we get permission for all of them to dock. And send a general order to all crew, Citizens, Legionnaires, Castes, and Clans: be on your best behavior, don't start fights, and don't use Craftings or Sorcery in front of the locals unless there's no other option."

He turns to Lazlo. "You can head off after we dock, or you can stick around: I guarantee It'll be interesting."

"Interesting in this case meaning 'Pure Insanity'." Max remarks.

"Hush now." Tavi says.

As the Septimus nears port, Tavi puts on his armor, cloak, swords, and steel circlet. "Okay Max." He says with a scary grin. "Get the Honor guard on deck...and bring the Banners and Trumpeters."

Max looks pained. "Do we have to, Tav–uh, First Lord? They're kind of...tacky."

"Sorry, Max. The banners and trumpets are essential."

"...As you command, M'Lord."

The Septimus slides into port, it's size much larger than most of the ships already in dock: brilliant and gaudy banners flying from every railing, mast, and rope of the ship, in the colors of the House of Gaius: a Cohort of Legionnaires in formal dress stand to attention, and a group of Trumpeters strike up the Loud, Blaring, and utterly Hideous "Crown Anthem."

Max, dressed in a gold-threaded cloak and helmet with a bright red brush on top, sits at the head of the deck holding a scroll, with an expression of utter discomfort on his face: he'd play the role well enough though.

Now it was time to wait for a response.

[Cracklord]

Grimgor
The idol of Gork gets up and goes to do it's own thing. You can't begrudge it that, Gork probably wants to fight as well, and can't be looking out for you and your boys all the time.
He'll be back when he's done, and you can get by while he's gone.

Rand Al'Thor
Min stares at you. She takes in your solemn expression, and your serious eyes, and she lifts a delicate hand to stifle a giggle. She can't help it, you just look so uncomfortable, so forced, as though you're terrified she might react poorly. It occurs to her that for all your power you're as human and awkward as the next man when trying to be there for someone you love, and it's good to remember that.
Getting herself under control after only a few shakes, she takes the flowers and takes a deep sniff of them with mock gravity, inhaling their fragrance. She pauses a moment, then gives you a smile that makes you melt. Min can see you're trying and that means a lot to her. Her hand twines with your remaining one, and she leans against you, happy to share the moment.
But as she does, you can't help but notice your surroundings. People stop moving to stare, a few run, and a few cheer. But most are quiet as a rabbit caught in the headlines. You follow their gaze to see what has their attention.

Gerald, an ordinary human in the market at Terim
Gerald had a splitting headache. He had staggered through the morning, forcing himself to complete his chores and wincing every time there was a noise, no matter how slight. All he wanted was to crawl into his covers and be left alone until the world stopped spinning, the inside of his head stopped pounding like a drum and the back of his throat stopped tickling, or until he died, he didn't really care which.
He'd been up the entire night drinking, celebrating his brothers engagement to the crofters daughter, and he was sure they'd been plenty more done as well, except it vanished whenever he tried to examine it, like punching smoke. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember either.
Making his way over to the well, grumbling the entire time, he took a pail and begun to feel it, before he noticed how the town appeared empty.
"Gerald!" He winced at the noise, but turned to see Sam the Thatcher running towards him. "Haven't you seen?"
"Seen what?"
In answer, Sam pointed at the sky. Gerald followed his gesture to stare at the sky above the East. At first, when he saw it in the distance, he took it to be a particularly large bird. But it flew oddly for a bird, and as it came closer he began to get some sense of the scale of the thing compared to its surroundings. It was far to big to be any bird he'd ever heard of, even the giant owls the elves ride in all his Nan's stories, big enough to carry a full grown warrior. As it came closer he began to see that the shape was wrong too, it was too long, and the wings were like those of a bat, rather then a bird.
As it came closer still, he noticed the long, lizard like-body, the enormous snake like-tail, the serpentine neck supporting the massive head, and the glorious gold color that no bird had ever flown. He saw the massive shield of bone, the double row of sharp spines that ran down it's long neck, the great jaws, the scales so bright they shone, the yellowy ivory of it's claws and teeth, and the dark eyes like inky pools.
It was a dragon, and not just any dragon, but quite possibly the biggest one that had ever existed, the biggest that he had ever heard of. Not that he was an expert on the subject. This was the first, and, he quite sincerely hoped, last he would ever see.
"Gods preserve us..." He whispered.
"I don't think they can." Sam replied, equally awed. "Not from that."
The dragon landed, and a figure armored figure leapt nimbly from his back. He seemed puny and insignificant when compared to the creature that had carried him, he could have walked down it's throat without touching the sides, but there was no mistaking the aura of power that surrounded him. His amour was articulated plates of red and black, and a heavy helm that hid his features. The dragon itself was armored too, Gerald realized numbly, though it seemed inconceivable that anything could hurt such a majestic creature.
The man removed his horned great helm to reveal a face that was young, no more then twenty, and almost girlishly handsome, dark hair and delicate features, yet he held himself with a springsteel readiness.
His name was Murtagh, and he was the heir of Galbatorix himself. The heir of the Empire.

Wander
The arrow strikes it, and the statue awakes. It has been carved to resemble a giant orc, but beneath it you get a feeling of elemental power crackling away, of something ancient and primal. A familiar feeling by now. The massive thing lumbers towards you, every movement echoing with the crack of stone and the trickle of sand and dirt. Yet it kept it's shape, kept it's cohesive hole as it made it's way towards you.

Allecia
"You husband is needed elsewhere, this time. Fear not, he shall be safe." It replied gently.

Moraine & Lan
"Of course. Right this way." He says, getting to his feet with more energy then you'd expect in a man of his age, and making his way out of the room in loping, jerky strides.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
"Your wisdom is equaled only by your magnificence, most perceptive of kings." He replies, falling into the traditional method of dealing with your kind.
"The order knows of your ambitions, and Jagang has decided that supporting them could only benefit us. In exchange for your loyalty, he will give you all of the Border realms for your own, there to rule as you see fit in the name of the Order."

Tasselhoff, Tanis
They come off in short order. Your wrists are chafed, bruised and a little bloody, but you're free to make your way out of the fortress, provided that you are careful.

[horngeek]

"Blood and bloody ashes, I DIDN'T WANT A BARFIGHT!"

Mat snatches up his spear, spinning it and knocking a man cold with the pommel. He fights, but only using it non-lethally.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"Well," he remarks, keeping his composure.

"I've never seen an actual Dragon before."

The tattoo on his right hand is beginning to itch. The one on his left...well, without a left hand, all he really had was the long sinuous tail of a dragon, and not its head.

"Think I should make introductions?"

Allecia Ehothorn

"Then I am my Lord Azura's to command."

She thinks for a moment, then quickly qualifies her statement.

"At least, so long as I am not forced to damn myself so."

[Cracklord]

Matt
You crack the man between the eyes, stunning him, and clearing a space around yourself. As you do, you survey the room, and blink, as you see what the real problem was. The man at the bar puts down his tea, and stares directly at you with cold eyes. Cold, hard eyes. You then notice the ravens tattooed on his forearms, and remember why you kept your spear covered.
You feel like sinking back down and letting the world swallow you.

Tavi
Your escort welcomes you in with all the pomp and ceremony of your station, a proud procession that makes you swell. It's good to be king. You make your way down the docks and into the market, where you see Murtagh ahead. He managed to do a better job with his escort after-all. Even Varg draws back a bit at the sight of the enormous, blood red dragon.

Rand Al'Thor
Min is staring at him as well, her eyes glassy and distant. She sometimes gets like this. "I see a ring given, a crown, a noose and a bag of silver. I see tears and blood. And I see a face." She breaks her gaze away, stares at you and shrugs. "That's all, I'm afraid. Should we go speak to him, or should we watch a while. He might be an enemy yet."

Allecia Ehothorn
"Go to the other continent, and the champion will return sooner, as your struggle will strengthen him and speed his return. There, things must proceed one way or all may be lost."

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

A grim smile flashes on Wander's face as the beast awakes. By now, he'd encountered enough of these beings to not be quite in awe as he was before.

Wander pulled Agro's head around and kicked him in the sides, beckoning him to run in a circle around the Colossus. Meanwhile, Wander repositions himself to fire at the being, trying to egg him onwards. Now came the next part, trying to find its weakpoint, and the sigil that marked it.

[Viera Champion]

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He cackles evilly.
"And how do I know I can trust you? I may be immortal but my Kingdom is not. How do I know you will not turn against me when the world is yours? I assure you, I will not simply agree to whatever you offer without reassurance like any fool would. Do not take me so lightly."



Moraine & Lan
Moraine follows him, taking calm, smooth strides. Lan silently follows behind him.

[horngeek]

"Bloody ashes."

In Mat's estimation, that summed up the situation quite nicely.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

tZasamal takes a seat in one of the seats in the merchant caravan and rides towards the imperial capital.

***

Holo and Lawarance

Holo and Lawarance take their offered seats. Holo sits uncharacteristically quietly listening not only to the General's words but his heart beat, hesitation between statements and other signs that he's lying.

Lawarance turns to business, he knows this trick of Holo's she'll let him know if the General is trying to deceive them in any way. "A pleasure to meet you General. I trust your men reported good things about my ore."

[industrious]

Rand

"I don't suppose you can interpret any of the symbols?"

He doesn't approach Murtagh. Waits to get his measure first. And to ascertain why the man has arrived.

Allecia

"As you wish, Lady Azura."

It wasn't a guarantee of safety for her love, but it was enough. She had hope. And another opportunity for redemption.

There would need to be a few preparations made, though. Already, her sharp mind races through possibilities, resources, logistics and planning. She hadn't done this in years.

[Colesign]

Tavi

Tavi carefully keeps any trace of fear or terror at the sight of the giant dragon off of his face.

Then he carefully nudges Max's foot: Max flinches, then unfolds his scroll and reads:

"crowstakeit...Quail and be humble before The First Lord of Alera, Gaius Octavian Tavarus Magnus, Ruler of the Four Corners of the World, Defeater of the Vord, Defender of the Crown, Creator of Plenty, and Sovereign of the Realm of Alera! His Excellency has voyaged over many leagues to the Land of the Empire in order to seek an Audience with his Fellow Sovereign, or the closest Representative of the Royal Line, that they might might discuss Affairs of State!"

Max folds up the scroll, and the trumpeters, after some hesistation, sound out a royal trill. Tavi, along with Kitai, Araris, and his mother, wait for a response: Tavi, managing to look fairly regal in his breastplate and cloak, tucks his thumbs into his belt and stairs at Murtagh levelly, a faint grin on his face, as if the giant fire-breathing Dragon didn't bother him at all.

[AnimeKid]

Auron

He stays silent but remains ready incase his client needs him.

Lazlo

He decides to follow Tavi's group as they make thier way to thier escort. When he sees the dragon his eyes widen for a moment before the return to thier normal state. He had seen dragon like creatures before, just not an actual dragon.

Link

(Waiting for response to post)

[nanobot_swarm]

The Beast
From the inky void that is the space surronding stars, a massive meteoroid, originally hailing from a world halfway across the known universe, moves on a path to intercept a nice blue planet, an oasis in the desert of space. The rock enters orbit, but does so neither swiftly or with great fire surronding it, instead, slowly easing itself down to the surface, like a small rock sinking to the bottom of a lake. Many men will stop and watch it descend, observing with a mixture of curiosity and fear, though few will be priviliged (or cursed) to see where it comes to rest, a field near the elvish forests. For hours, it merely stands still and erect, showing no signs of its makers or purpose to curious eyes. Eventually several parts of the rock slide away, releasing some foul air from inside, a sense of dread, and the Slayers.

They look like this
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zARAXboG0TI/SwtNjjRcLAI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/OYcw2OhGTJQ/s1600/krullslayers2.jpg


Hundreds of the monsters march out, and begin to form into bands and roam the surronding lands, killing any they come across. Inside the Black Fortress, their Wicked Master laughs to himself, for he will take much delight in the conquest and subjugation of this world.

Nekron
The ice lord reclines in his throne with exhaustion, snatching out offerings his servants make, and devouring them while planning his next move. He and the kings to the South both know that he posses no threat to them at the moment, he could only move his Glacier so fast and far, and they were a safe distance away for months, if not years. Of course, the kings to the north were a different story, they fell within his sphere of influence, and his mighty glacier and sub-human armies possed a very real threat to them. Therefore he called several of his sub-human minions who served as his ambassadors/messengers, and told them this:
"Go to the Kings in these northern lands, and make it very clear to them that they have two options in their near futures. Either they will submit to me and serve me till their dying breaths, or I will make those dying breaths come very soon, and wipe their kingdoms off the map, one-by-one. Now go, get out of my sight."
His servants immediately flee from his presence, and go to deliver the message to the northern kings. To add extra weight to his demands, he will move the Glacier another ten miles, towards the boarders to the nearest kingdom.

[Cracklord]

Tavi
Murtagh walks forward, tossing his cloak over one shoulder, his armored gauntlet resting on his sword. You recognize it as the nonthreatening move that it is. He's a warrior, and he's more comfortable with a weapon close at hand. And such a weapon it was, longer and straighter then a leaf bladed gladius, designed to be wielded in either one or two hands with equal proficiency. It is made of a curious metal, like the bloodsteel of the Canin yet with a brighter finish.
He waits patiently for you to finish, then gives you a nod that forstalls the awkward moment when men of roughly equal rank meet in public. He's slightly younger then you, but he doesn't look it, lean as a blade and hard as a poker.
"I don't have such a list of titles, I'm afraid." He notes softly, and you think you can hear a glimmer of amusement in his voice, though it might be something else. His emotions are steady and sedate, calm and clear as a lake.
"Maybe Galbatorix will lend me a few of his, then we could meet on equal footing. I am Murtagh, prince of the Empire. This is Thorn, my dragon." The dragon lets out a soft grunt and inclines it's head, in a bizarrely human gesture.
"The king regrets he could not come himself, but pressing matters have come to his attention. I understand you seek to open channels between our nations and create a presence here?"

Rand Al'Thor
Min nods, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I've seen crowns before. I don't think that one is for him. He's going to give it away, or refuse it when it's offered. Tears and blood mean he's going to die in battle, but not when or on which side. And I don't see much in the face."
She looks at you, as if to apologize for the unsatisfactory nature of her vision, then sighs and looks at them again. For now it's best you remain quiet.
The other two have put on a much better show, Rand might be able to pass for a young rake out prowling the taverns and Min could be the girl of a wealthy merchant out to play a bit before she tries to ensnare a husband, but in the current climate any reveal would be a poor first impression. And impressions are important, if you want to win them to your side.
The dragon Reborn has to feel like the Dragon reborn.
She then looks at Tavi. "A garden of swords. That's a hard one. An open book... knowledge of some sort, I think he's going to learn something, or maybe teach something. And hands overflowing in gold. Riches..." She blinks. "You want to get him on your side if you can, Rand. It will make things easier."

Holo and Lawarance
The general nods at the two of you politely, and offers you wine. As he does he gives you both a long, measured look, particularly at Holo's ears, then takes a sip of his own glass.
"Of course. All of good quality." He says in reponse to you asking after your resources somewhat dismisively, as though the opposite was unthinkable.
"You know of course that the Imperial Order would have paid twice as much for it."

Allecia
She departs, and the light recedes, leaving you alone in your pallace.

Wander
The arrows richchette of it's stony hide, dulling from the impact and setting off showers of sparks, but not actually hurting the thing.
Bending down, it lifts an enormous tree, a giant in the forrest, and with a convulsive wrench uprooted it, then threw the entire thing towards you.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He smiles. "There are more important things then conquest. Order, is what we desire. We have little need to take your empire as long as you work alongside us."

Morianne, Lan
The Wizard's Keep is a huge fortress that overlooks the city of Aydindril. The Wizard's Keep is carved into a mountain and there are literally thousands of rooms. Magic radiates from the Keep and the web's that protect it are equal to even the White Tower. It's a tremendous bastion of power, and yet no more then six or seven people seem to live here. You have suspicions about that.
Zeddicus moves as though propelled with strings. He'd start of moving jast, then would slow down until it was a gradual movement ant the end. There was no rythum to the man. At last he takes you to his enclave, where books line the walls. There are perhaps a hundred.

Matt, Cohen
The Deathwatch Guards are perhaps the most honored and valued of the Imperial servants. They are charged with the protection of the Imperial family. They are recognized by their green tassled spears, and the sigul of a raven.
Amongst them are the Seekers for Truth, who search for treason and other wrong-doing. Property of the Empress, they act as spies amongst Seanchan and its enemies alike. Anyone must obey one, even one of the Blood.
Impersonating one is a grave crime indeed. One that can have you dragged before the empress herself, and killed by inches. And the odds of one being here, drinking in a disreputable pub like this...
Sometimes you hate your life.
He walks over to you, sensible enough to keep out of reach of your weapon. There is a heron engraved on his sword, which is equally not good, and everyone does a little bow to him and lines up behind him. The Seachan have obedience drilled into them before they learn to talk, they could do nothing else.
"Hand over your weapons. You are under arrest."

Zasamal
The merchant takes you into the desert, where you will recieve your next shipment of Lace. As one of the wandering tribesmen, you are at home in the desert, even if it has changed and grown since you were born. Once it was fields of grassland.
In summer, the grasslands flashed young and green, Autumn they flashed yellow, and in Spring they were purple with Saxifrage and Vetch. It was a hundred times the size of the Empire, a thousand. You could ride all day and all night and not see the end of it, with not a fence or plot of land that is owned. Nothing to stop you galloping all day and all night, as far as you want, as if you and your horse were flying...
There, there is freedom that you once had. The grasslands are gone now, the world has moved on. And now all you can long for is an ending.

Nekron
No response yet. As the communication is basically send a messenger and wait for him to walk or ride the distance, it will be a while.

Tywin Lannister
Jaime nods. As an afterthought, he gives you Nekron's letter, which the Kingsguard intercepted. It was best to keep a wide circle around Richard for that reason, they took any threat, no matter how inconcequential it may seem, very seriously.
"Some Wizard sent it." He says by way of explanation, then steps away.

[industrious]

Verona House

She moves from the master suite to the guest rooms, where the other non-servant inhabitant of the house dwells. Unlike her, he feels no sense that he is somehow unworthy of the God's attention. To the contrary; his flaw had been that he viewed himself as superior to the gods. Had been, but for the Champion.

"...Et in Arkay Ego. Praise to Arkay, God of Life And Death. May he return safely from hell, and be successful in his aims. Amen."

Cleon kneels in his room, finishing his own daily invocation as Allecia waits. He takes time to acknowledge her presence, both out of his own focus, and his own hesitation in seeing her. The two had quite a history, after all.

"Hello, Cleon."

"Lady Ehothorn."

He never called her anything but that, anymore. They had known each other for quite sometime; she had used a different name, then. She had seduced him, ensnared him in her web of subtle manipulations, created the Butcher of Armindale. They had been married, once. He knew, or thought he knew her intimately. But he didn't. Sometimes he would instinctively know what she was going to say, a consequence of his years spent with her. Other times, he would be completely surprised by actions that his wife would have never done. How much was mask, and how much the face behind it?

At least, she thinks. He isn't trying to kill me anymore. Thank the Champion for that.

"I've been approached by Azura." She speaks brusquely, without any pleasantries. "We have a chance to aid our Champion by aiding her."

His gaze immediately shifts to his wardrobe. Where, she knows, he still stores his armor. His weapons were below, in the armory.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

She stares at the old general, who had escaped the afterlife for his second chance. To atone not only himself, but the Champion as well.

From behind her back, she brings out a bundle of clothes, heavily wrapped together despite their wide and varied nature. Silk coats and rough blacksmith garb, all tied together to protect what was inside.

"You'll need to carry the Sword," she remarks. "It still burns me if I touch it."

He nods once.

"I can do you one better."

Sir Edward Pellew, Applewatch

The old Paladin sighs as he sits on his porch and watches the sunset. He was old now, older than any man should be. His Celestial blood, a gift from some distant ancestor, had aided him in that. His wife and children lay buried in a distant place, so consumed had he been by his obsession. And the Fiend that he had hunted for nearly a century had turned out to be a phantasm; at least, that was the best word he could use to describe him. He had slain the Fiend fifty years ago, and his time hunting the Fiend's reincarnation was for nothing. The Champion had rejected his Dark Legacy, and sought to redeem those he had corrupted. Pellew wished him luck in that endeavor. For him, the quiet life was enough. A nice, quiet death at the end of a life ill-spent. Fondly reminiscing of past glories long faded. No one would know he had passed on; the only remnants of his deeds were those that lived in children's tales.

So it was with no small amount of surprise that Pellew noticed a pair of horses approaching the small farm. More than that, two black horses.

"So," he mutters. "One last blaze of glory, is it?"

He reaches under his chair to pull free a steel shortsword, its edge chipped but serviceable. He would not go down without a fight. He would not go down as easy prey for some young acolyte of the Dark Brotherhood, or the Shadow Knights. He would not…

“Hello, Edward Pellew.”

The voice is as familiar to him as his own. He had spent centuries hunting that voice. The other Fiend. The she-demon herself.

“Quorell.”

She flinches from that name. He still has that power. Can still banish Fiends and other dark creatures.

“Allecia. Please.”

He doesn’t lower the sword.

“What do you want?”

The other rider dismounts, and slowly, carefully walks forward. His face is unknown to Pellew, but it is not the Champion’s.

“It’s the Champion, Sir Pellew. He has descended into hell on a quest to retrieve a soul. And Azura will bless his journey only if we bring aid to another continent. You owe him, Edward Pellew, for he did what you could not. He slew the Fiend Within, destroyed and banished him forever. He gave you this life of peace and comfort.”

A sharp man. And given his company, and familiarity with the Champion, there was only one man who fit the criteria.

“General Cleon Strategos. Your reputation precedes you.” The shock and look of shame on the man’s face is enough for Pellew to judge him. That they are both, indeed seeking redemption. That they haven’t slipped back into their old habits. “What would you have me do?”

“Bear this once more, and help us.”

The Sword of Celestial is freed from its wrappings, and it shines brightly in the night sky. It sings of hope and justice, peace and virtue. It is like no sword that had ever been made, or ever would; carved as it was from a single shard of green glass. It was an impossibility made incarnate, kept together only by divine will. The weapon of a Hero, not that Pellew felt he deserved the title anymore. But he would do it. Because it was the right thing to do. Because he could not live the quiet life anymore. Because he didn’t trust the two of them on their own to continue on the path towards redemption.

The Sword doesn’t make him feel ten years younger when he holds it. That sort of thing was for poets and storytellers to speak of. But it was comfortable, and he knew its balance intimately. It would suffice. It always would.

“What are we waiting for?”

Anvil Harbor

The Harbor at Anvil was the finest in all of Cyrodiil. Its ships brought in fresh goods and passengers from across the Empire, and in some cases, beyond. Finding a ship was easy. And being married to the most famous (and one of the wealthiest) man in all the Empire did have its benefits. The fastest ship at port, and three bunks in a separate room for all of them. They were on their way to the other continent. On their way, for the Champion. For themselves. For redemption. For excitement. And for Edward Pellew, for a death worth dying for.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"Interesting."

He slips backwards into the crowd then, then through it. Into a clear and deserted area.

"Do you trust me, Min?"

"What sort of question is that, you wool-head?"

He laughs. "Good Point. Here's what I need you to do..."

A minute later, and Rand is dressed in a fine black coat, embroidered with subtle dragon patterns. Lace adorns the sleeves-not too much, but enough for dignity. At his side, he bears the Power-forged Sword he had found; plain and unadorned, but finer work and of sturdier construction than any heron-marked blade. In short, he looks like the Dragon Reborn once more.

"Thank you, Min."

And then he channels the One Power once more, closing the gateway, and weaves strands of Air and Spirit around both himself and Min both, cloaking them from sight, and then tying off the weaves so that they themselves were invisible. Rand drew upon the nearly five centuries of combined experience of both himself, and his prior incarnation; aside from the Forsaken themselves(and even among them, only Moridin would be able to, such was Rand's ability with the Power) that he was effectively nonexistent to any sense or means of detection.

Of course, there were drawbacks to this sort of weave. He couldn't channel save to untie it while it was upon him, nor could he move at great speed. But it would more than suffice. He had learned it, in fact, from Ishmael, who had used it to assassinate his second in command during the Siege of Punis. Those had been quite interesting days...

"I think," he mutters. "a suitable entrance in the middle of their meeting will suffice. Until then, shall we continue to follow them discretely."

[Cracklord]

The days blur, as you cross the ocean. You are not bothered by storms or leviathans, making it across safely towards the far off continent.
You pass Vroengard, the ruins of Valyria, said to be the first cradle of civilization where man began.
Valyria is a long-dead city of wonderment, and was once the capital of a great empire that stretched across the known world, but has since fallen to ruin. At its prime, the Valyrian Freehold was an advanced civilization and the dominant military and cultural power of the known world. It is said at the top of the citadel still sits the Runestaff, the axis for the turing of the world.
The Ship is skirting the edges of the smoking sea, demon-haunted waters that are still ruled by the Doom that struck Valyria.
You shiver, and are very grateful when you pass that sad stone remnant. It's impossible not to believe the stories as you see it.
Then the coast is within sight, and you know you've crossed the ocean. Ahead is the coast of the Empire, and The Spine of The World.

[horngeek]

Mat

...oh, great. No, Mat didn't expect to be executed- that bloody Prince of the Ravens business- but Tuon (no, sorry, Fortuona) would be angry at him.

Still, better than being stuck like a pig. Mat shifted the spear so the pommel was towards the Truthseeker. "All right, I'll come quietly, since that'd probably be better for my health than being stuck like a bloody pig."

He puts the spear on the ground, and sighs.

[Draxx]

Cohen
And the reason was thrown out the window.

It was to be expected, Gengiz had never backed away from a fight in his life, and while he'd been in the empire long enough to pick up the language and a few other things he had no idea of the significance of what just occurred. So there was a fight. Well he could oblige.

"Come and take them!" Yells out Gengiz Cohen, tossing his cape over his shoulder, then bending over and lifting the bar room table. It wasn't bolted to the floor, perhaps foolishly, but it was still an impressive feat of strength, especially considering his frame. For a moment he holds it over his head, the his back arcs and sends it hurling at the crowd, and more particularly at the guard who had taken control of the situation, sending him sprawling as it crashes into him.

He'd be lucky to escape with broken bones.

The world's oldest hero got to his feet and went for his sword, scuttling crabwise around as he found it jammed and tried to get it out, then at last pulling it free and flourishing it, mortally wounding a man who was in the process of sneaking up on him. Everyone was still too shocked by his reaction to get together enough to swarm him, and he was playing it to his advantage.

He swung his sword a few times in a bright arc, forcing people back and giving him some breathing space, then stood up on the overturned table for the high ground advantage and took his sword calmly in two hands, brandishing it over his head. "This is getting fiddly. Why don't you rush me?"

Sonja
The Imperial Order gets their diplomat back. In six boxes. Sonja had no love for any of the sides, but now she was their enemy.

[horngeek]

Mat scrambles away from the lunatic who apparently wants to take on the entire Seanchan. "You bloody... I'm not associated with him, I was just bloody gambling with him!"

[Draxx]

Cohen
He lets Mat go unopposed, still gazing around the room in a business-like manner. "Come on, there's a lot of you lads and I'm not getting any younger. I know it's unfair, but I can't wait around all day. Mumble, oo me old leg, ekcetera"

To their credit, they hesitated. Not because the Seachan have a certain reverence for their ancestors and Cohen was clearly ancient, or because that the idea of a frail old man being eaten to death by a mob of big men is reprehensible, but because something in his diamond grin and the ease he handled the sword made them wonder what he was so confident about, and not like the conclusions they drew.

Afterall, by all rights Cohen should be the one hesitating and backing away, and the fact that he wasn't made them wonder what he knew and they didn't. So they were edging closer, making sure one of the others made the first move. If people were going to die, they weren't volunteering to go first.

Cohen shook his head and waved his arms wearily. "This makes me ashamed, honestly it does. Could you get on with it?"

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawarance

Holo's ears stop twitching as the General looks at them. They continue to listen but it won't be as percise.

Lawarance fakes a slight merchant smile. For all his flaws Lawarance was a master salesman even without Holo's supernatural aid. "My companion has certain problems with the Church. Something you have wisely liberated yourselves from here."

***

Zasamal

That end would come soon enough, all he has to do is push Eragon far enough to open the vault of the dead and then enter it himself. Which is why he had come to Urbruauen.

He would not be welcome here, he is obviously not of the Empire but that didn't matter much. A simple invisiblity spell to render him unseen by the guards and he should slip in with ease.

[Colesign]

Tavi

Tavi decides to speak up. "You have it in a nutshell, Prince Murtagh. The Realm of Alera seeks to establish relationships with the nations of this Land: Alliances, trading opportunities, exchanges of knowledge, and so on."

Tavi gestures grandly toward the harbor. "On that note, would you give permission for the rest of my fleet to dock within the harbor and open some trading stalls? We've many goods and useful objects, brought as a gesture of good will to the people of this city."

"Then perhaps, we could continue this discussion in private."

"You really think they'll allow 50 ships in port?" Max whispered.

"Forgiveness, Permission, and all that." Tavi replied.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Both Wander's and Agro's eyes widen at the fact that there's a tree being lobbed at them right now. Hastily, Wander pulls Agro's head around, causing him to lay down on his side with a bit of a thud just as the tree gets close to them. Wander kicked his feet out of the stirrups just before landing, however, and tries to remain on the ground to avoid being hit by the gigantic tree trunk.

[Viera Champion]

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He thinks it over for a second.
"I suppose it could work out. Mumm-Ra, Ever Living Source of Evil accepts your offer."



Moraine & Lan
Moraine raises an eyebrow as they follow him, and Lan frowns. He certainly was not normal.
Thank you very much. Your help is very generous.

[industrious]

Allecia

She remains in the cabin, sitting in one of the chairs. Her eyes are closed, and she concentrates on the future.

One of the greatest treasures in all of Tamriel was that of the Elder Scrolls. Given the proper rituals, the scrolls would reveal the future, in full, if unclear, detail. As such, they were heavily guarded, property of the Empire, and used to help ensure the betterment of its citizens. In all of the Empire's history, only one had been stolen. And that particular scroll had been since returned-for some reason, the Champion coughed every time that story came up. It was probably just a coincidence. Everybody knew the Gray Fox had done it. Everybody.

Her own readings and prognostication was even more vague about detail, but any sort of hint was better than nothing. She had foretold the death of the Fiend, and that knowledge had led to the preparations necessary to reincarnate him in a new body. In a way, her vision saved Cyrodiil, for by doing so, she had brought about the Champion's existence.

But that was long ago, and she hadn't prognosticated for some time now. But she could try.

Cleon and Pellew

The man leans over the railing, and stares at the horizon. At the mountains ahead.

"It's truly something isn't it?"

The old Paladin approaches from behind, eventually leaning his own limbs on the wooden beam.

"The new coast?"

"A second chance. Do you know how great the gift you have been given is?"

Cleon briefly closes his eyes, and remembers the fate that awaited him. Remembers the timeless centuries spent in the Abyss of the Faithless.

"I do. And I will not waste it."

Pellew nods.

"A second chance is not merely about avoiding past mistakes, Butcher of Armindale."

Cleon nearly flinches at the term, but visibly controls himself.

"It's also about forging new pathways. New experiences. Of being not only better, but different than what you once were."

There is nothing more to be said after that. The ship approaches the continent, and the two old men, one in the body of one approaching middle age, the other in one more befitting his experiences, look over the bow in silence.

[Cracklord]

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
"A wise decision, but only to be expected. We will send our troops to secure your borders and prepare to invade. And Jagang himself will arrive with them." He says, bowing again.
"Does that meet your approval?"

Druss The Legend
The mists blanket the rebels camp, hiding it from view, and promising rain to come. Slowly, forms appear, indistinct shapes emerging from the fog. Horrifying ones.
For it was not the numbers of the rebels that posed a threat or chilled the blood, but what they had brought with them.
Against any expectation, half-veiled in the thick mist, stood a row of huge wooden siege towers, large enough to take one over even Kausta's walls on great solid wheels, four mighty torsin spring onagers, their basins already loaded with boulders, and an enormous bronze headed battering ram, expertly protected under a steep sided tortise of wooden planks and iron plates.
They'd been busy in Feinstars workshops, it seemed.

Morianne, Lan
"No problem at all, I am always at the disposal of such a pretty lady." He says, giving you a smile. "I have yet to organize the books, you understand, but they are in order of subject. So if you are right, you will want these books." He hands you six of them, then turns and walks out. "I will check on you come mel times."

Zasamal
You slip through the gates, the guards none the wiser, and look upon the greatest city of man.
The citadel towered above Urû'baen, like a great lance thrust up to scrape against the sky by a titan in the world's creation. Made of black stone in ages past before the time of men, or even elves, it dominated the landscape for miles around, atop the cities great cliffs so that it could be seen on the Horizon from as far as The Spine.
It had been the seat of the kings of humanity since they first settled in Alagaësia. It had always been dark, made of dark granite, but once the kings had tried to disguise this fact, hanging colorful pendants and banners, and growing flower gardens around the walls. Once. But Galbatorix didn't see the need. Power wasn't something you had to flaunt, honor and justice weren't won with pretty flags, and beauty was relative. To him, the austere walls and spartan, functionality of the place was far more beautiful then what the other kings had done. And who would argue with him?
If the structures rulers occupy reflect their regard for the ruled, then the fortress spoke volumes. It's entryways were heavily guarded, and it's gates were locked with heavy iron portcullises. Lookouts were stationed on it's towers, and it was garrisoned extensively, by the Domiavard as well as conventional soldiers. It appeared a dark, grim place, every inch harder then the cliffs it was built on.
Beneath the citadel was a maze of passageways and tunnels, underground caverns and rooms that had never seen the sun, the work of thousands of years of excavating the stone bedrock. They stretched beneath the entire city, and perhaps one could walk among them forever, never again finding the way to the surface.

Holo, Lawarance
He nods. "Ah." He says, and finishes his wine.
"Tell me, would you be interested in further work? Of the records, of course. I'll pay you whatever you think is fair."

Barfight
The Seeker for Truth pulls himself up, wavering and slightly unsteady, his forehead bleeding. He was lucky. The men staring immediately closer were not, they were brought down and are not getting back up.
He takes Matt into custody, more roughly then seems strictly necessary, and drags him to the door, appropriating a Bull S'redit, extremely large and gray, long snout and large tusks capped with silver decorations. Hauling you into the cupola, he places your spear beside you and folds his arms.
He doesn't say a word, but he gives you a look, and you feel yourself desperate to fill the silence.

The men finally muster their courage and rush Cohen in a wave.

Tavi, Rand Al'Thor
Murtagh inclines his head, and turns sharply. As he does, people move aside creating a clear path. "You may dock your ships here, however in the interests of commerce I must insist you first reach an understanding with the guild of commerce, and submit to government examination and a tariff on your products. We do like to ensure control of what goes into the country, as I am sure you can understand."
He's fast. And more then that, competent, clearly understanding quite a lot about the country's infrastructure."

Wander
You dodge successfully. Unfortunately, this robs you f most of your speed and momentum, and the collosus is almost upon you. The thing swings it's enormous arms down like a hammer, the entire ground seeming to tremble as it does, throwing up clouds of dirt and rocks that fill the air abd to a degree block your sight.

Achilles
This is not Troy.for days, starving ans the water supply dwindled dangerously. Your men are hard, fearless and unbeatable, but with no wind to lift your sails you are helpless to nature.
You fear no enemy you can take your sword to, but you can't fight the world itself. The sky has been overcast for four days, as you drift on the ocean currents, the stars hidden and no navigation possible beyond using the sun to tell directions.
You were lost, your men, too tired, parched and dehydrated to row, and just when all hope seemed lost and you consigned yourself to be lost at sea, the first raindrop fell.
A storm began as clouds hung low in the sky, black and heavy with the problem of destruction to come. Lightning flickered in the clouds, and thunder rolled.
The sea stirred and thrashed, rising and falling as though Posidan had given his servants the task of building mountains out of salt water, so that one moment you were cresting a wave so high you surely could reach out and touch the sky, the next falling deed, deep down beneath the waves until you fancied you could see Taraturs.
As your men rowed desperately, desperation giving them strength even as the trireme began to spin and boards began to creak menacingly and splinter, Achiles looked to the skies, and he saw a face amongst the clouds, with a beard of the purest white, and a hard, youthful face, who seemed to be directing the storm. He saw what could only be Zeus himself, his eyes narrowed, and knew he had done something to anger the Lord of Storms and King of the Gods. There was a crash of thunder, final as a funeral bell, and Achilies saw no more.
He awoke drifting, not far from a shore, clinging to a piece of the mast of his ship, the weight of his armor making his arms burn with the effort. His myrmidons are scattered around him, likewise kept afloat bu the remains of the ship.
To the right is a shore, bleak and inhospitable as can be imagined, with a mountain range hiding what was beyond.

Allecia, Cleon and Pellew
The ship comes to a foreign shore, and the largest city in the world, Altur'Rang, home place of the Imperial Order. Literally translated, Altur'Rang means the Creator's chosen, and people are brought up to revere the teachings of the Order, and hold the teachings close to heart.
Given it's size, the place is strange. People live in squalor, but s a matter of policy rather then choice. Their are no monuments, palaces or mansions,the place is simply building after building, all bare and undecorated.
The network of roads is advanced, so it is clear that, once again, this is a matter of choice and design rather then poverty or lack of ability.

[doliest]

Tasslehoff
Tass heads out of the cell, gesturing for Tanis to follow him to freedom and safety. Hopefully before Kitaria found out they were gone. "Hurry hurry!"

Kitaria
Kitaria patiently waited for her men to prep the camp for movement, so they could begin their treck to Surda. She stopped and considered they would need a forward messenger. Her eyes turn to Soth, "Soth. Go prep the Varden for our arrival."

He nods, not caring that he had just been given an order. She had earned the right. He summoned Blinky, his Nightmare, to him and began riding forward. What would take an army(and some Dragons slowing themselves down) a week would take far less time for his infernal horse.

[The Shoveler]

Tanis
He follows after the kender, leaving his captivity behind as he made a break for it. He wasn't going to be held captive by Kitiara any longer! He had to get back to Laurana and soon. She had to be worried about him after a month of leave without notice.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

Normally Zasamal wouldn't lower himself to this and would hire a common assasin to do this dirty work but this had to be execute perfectly. He stands in wait invisible and silent a good distance from the guardhouse, aproximently halfway between it and the battlements. When the next shift of guards heads out to releave their fellows on the wall he strikes slashing his scythe through the neck of an unsuspecting guard, the blood splatters all over Zasamal's cloak ruining the illusion, causing him to dismiss it completely.

***

Lawerence and Holo

"What kind of work?" Lawerence asks suspiciously. D'Hara was rather infamous for their shady dealings dueing to their leader Richard Rhal's views on so called 'moral clarity' which in the end boiled down to whatever the Hell he feels like.

[horngeek]

"So, taking me to the Empress, then?"

Mat sighs.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Only natural." Tavi says with a diplomatic smile. "I can send a messenger to my ships and ensure that the captains cooperate with your guild masters and officials."

"Although," he adds casually. "If you could take me to the nearest pool of water, I could get word to my ships much faster."

[industrious]

Allecia, Cleon and Pellew

The three disembarked, then, gathering their possessions. Several large trunks for their various supplies and provisions; they would need to purchase a horse and wagon to travel over any long distances.

"I don't suppose you could wear something other than that antique armor? It looks as old as you are."

Indeed, Pellews armor was filled with dents and dings, well-battered from past adventures.

"It's served me well in the past." His tone brooks no argument as he stares around at the city. "What a horrible, dreary place. Reminds me of Bravil, only without the smell."

Pellew obviously wasn't impressed. But Allecia had come from the Infernal Plane, and Cleon the Abyss of the Faithless. Compared to such horrors as those, their opinion that it could be far, far worse was not unjustified.

"Well, Lady Ehothorn," the General remarks. "I don't suppose Azura gave us any further instructions, other than sail hundreds of leagues to an unknown shore?"

[Executor]

The lean Lord of the Myrmidons stood upon the rocky store, the tiny pebbles of the beach crunching underneath his tough leather sandals in a manner most pleasing to a man who had been at sea for most of the last few weeks. Blue eyes, sharp like an eagle's eyes, scanned the shore. The trees seemed to mostly be tall, pine-covered conifers, like the trees of lands north of Greece. The mountains, however, were what really caught Achilles' eye. Greece was rocky and mountainous, yes, but nothing like these. These mountains were dark, forboding, and it seemed as if their edges and points had been sharpened by some Titan or God. They seemed to stab towards the sky defiantly, as if trying to wound Zeus himself.

"Eodorus! Patroclus!" Achilles yelled out, his voice clear and loud as he leaned over to pick up a spear washing up on the tide that he recognized as his own. He planted the sauroter butt-spike deep in the pebbles, allowing the spear to stand upright while he looked around to take stock of what had survived the crash. Around fifty of his Myrmidons had been shipwrecked with him, and to his relief he quickly discovered that both Eudorus, his Captain, and his cousin Patroclus had survived as well. The old grizzled captain and the young warrior quickly ran to their lord, bearing the spears and shields they had scavanged from the flotsam. From his quick glance up and down the beach, it seemed that most of the Myrmidons had retained their weapons, or could scavenge them from the wreckage.

"My Lord, I'm so glad to see you alive" said Eudorus immediately, the gleam of white teeth seen in his black beard as he smiled.

"And it is good to see you, my friend, and you Patroclus" Achilles replied, relief clear on his handsome features.

"That storm was unnatural, Achilles. I do not think these are the shores of Troy," Patroculus said, casting a look over his shoulder at the dark, forboding forests that rose up where the beach ended, not twenty yards distant.

"Without a doubt. During the storm, I saw Zeus himself in the clouds. I do not know how we have displeased him, yet he has cast us far from Greece, that much I can tell" answered Achilles, who then bent over to retrieve a broad round shield from the surf. The storm must have been supernaturally forceful, he thought, if even heavy armour and shields was cast to shore in the wreck.

"My lord, is your mother not a sea-nymph? Could she not aid us in rejoining the fleet at Troy?" asked Eudorus. There was a distant look in Achilles' eyes as he gazed out to sea.

"No." He said simply, after a long paused. "I cannot explain it, Eudorus, I just know she is not here and cannot help us. We are on our own... Get the men fallen in, I think we should be setting off soon" He said, and seized his spear from the ground.

Within thirty minutes, the fifty had men had fallen in to five loose ranks of ten. They all seemed armed and armoured, which was lucky enough for Achilles, and some had scrounged some other gear from the flotsam, which they carried on their backs in what packs they could rig up.

"Are we ready Eudorus?" Achilles asked his Captain.

"Aye my Lord, that is everything we can salvage, I think." Eudorus replied, his shield slung across his back and his spear in hand, identical to the rest of the Myrmidons.

"Then let us depart." Achilles said, his eyes fixed on the mountains. Something within him, similar to what had drawn him towards Troy, was telling him that his destiny lay beyond the mountains. At a gesture from Eudorus, the Myrmidons turned in unison towards the forest and began to march away in a ragged column, using their spears like walking sticks. From amongst the column arose the distinctive reedy wailing of an aulos, from some lone soldier who had managed to save his pipe in the storm. He set to playing a familiar marching tune, and the Myrmidons, leaving the wreckage of their ship behind, passed into the forest and into the unknown new world that awaited them.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

As the Colossus walks towards them, Wander gets Agro up, and just barely smacks Agro out of the way before the creature hammers his fist into the ground. Wander instinctively dove between the creature's legs, being sent flying when the fist hits the ground for his trouble. After he gets tossed against the ground for a while, he gets up, with bruises and a few scrapes to tell the tale, and tries to get his footing. By then Agro was smart enough to get away from the Orc God Statue, hopefully able to escape the Colossus' wrath for now. As for Wander, well, he was busy trying to unscramble his brain after that toss.

Managing to summon up enough balance to think, Wander nocks another arrow and fires at the creature through the dust cloud to get its attention once more. This time, his aim is a bit errant, both thanks to the dust cloud and due to his dizziness. Hard to tell whether it would even land, period.

[Cracklord]

Wander
The arrow hits the side of it's jaw, fracturing the stone and sending chips in every direction. It's boulder-like, misshapen head lurches to the left and the thing staggers, barely able to support itself, and giving you a chance to right yourself.
Yet to determine it's weak point, you do note that it's head appears to be fractured sandstone, unlike the granite and shale of the rest of it, and your arrows appear better able to damage it's head.

Nekron
One of them returns after a mere two days. Considering the distance involved, this is an impossible time, and yet the thing clearly remembers holding audience with the king. He hands you a letter detailing the reply.

His Grace, his Majesty Galbatorix Targaryen, Dragonbane, King of the Andals, Soveriegn of the West, Lord Protector of the Broddring kingdom, Steward of the North, Master of the Far Reaches, King of the First men, Knight of the realm, Holder of the Six Keys, Last of the blood of Westeros, Castellan of Alagesia, Master of the Tower, Wizard of the First Order, Dragon Rider and anointed sovereign of the Empire and all the territories and estates thereof.
You do not wish me as an enemy. I have little patience and less tolerance, and I make a point of winning battles in a manner in which they do not have to be won twice. I will warn you once; leave my kingdom and lands to me, or I will kill you.

Achilles
The Mountains loom above you as you make your slow and painful way along the beach. Far from the sandy shores of the Mediterranean, this is a point of lowest desperation. A shore that men and ships were broken against.
As you make your way along, you find no gaps or pasaes in the mountains, nr any softening, it's as though a wal of fangs were scaled up until they scraped the sky. Then ahead you see what can only be a city.

The Beast
No reaction so far, nor any prey detected. You caught plenty of animals, but no elves. And you get the impression that in moments they will ready themselves for a counterattack.

Gimli, Legolas
The pass is narrow, dangerous, and but for Gimli's surefootedness and experience you both could have met an ignoble end in one of the chasms or sheer cliffs that seemed everywhere you look. Occasionally you were forced to backtrack, or go around loosing time, but at last you crest and begin leaving the foothills and moving into the trees on the other side, that had managed to scrape a loathsome existence on topsoil and shale. It shows, the scrubby forest of pines and conifers are stunted and squat, twisted and dense as a prison or cage. If anything, this promises to be even worse then the mountains.

Allecia, Cleon and Pellew
She hadn't. And your purpose for coming here fails to make itself known, or immediately express itself. You see plenty you object to, but nothing that strikes you as important enough to drag you here.
After a few minutes and no leads it occurs to you that perhaps you might have more luck asking around then wandering about aimlessly.

Tavi, Rand
"Best you send a messenger. I can see to your safety." He says, leading you away from the docks.
The two of you make your way into the castle, and sit in an airy, comfortable room near the top of the tower, where Murtagh has a cup of strong tea, offering you a cup yourself. The view is extraordinary, the sun sparkles on the water like diamonds, and the coast and horizon can be seen. The sky is clear, adding to the effect. It is a far cry from the earlier impression you got of the land.
He allows you to appreciate it for a moment, then moves on to business. "You tell me you have a desire to expand and develop colonies if possible, and are first seeking allies to support you." He says, recapping so as to establish the goals of this meeting.
"Your goals are trade and mutual military support. Both are acceptable, provided that you deal with us as fairly as we deal with you. If you do not we will take steps, but best not to focus on unpleasantness."
He rests his arms on the table. "To go further is impossible at this point, as we have little real understanding of each other. You know nothing about us, and we know nothing about you."

Matt
"The Empress will judge you. But it falls to us to accuse you." He replies in his soft, measured voice. "So first, it falls to me to determine the extent of your crime by any means I see fit." His pitch does not change in the slightest, you really have no idea how the menace managed to creep into his words.
"Now, why were you impersonating one of the guard, and what is your connection to the barbarian? It is clear you are not one of the people, and likely that you are one of the outlanders who gained special dispensation to dock here. Do you plan any sedition or mean to attempt any acts of sabotage against the Empire?"

Zasamal
The guards don't have time to raise the alarm, and you step over their twitching corpses, making your way over the walls and slipping through a narrow passage between two buildings, into the courtyard.
Galbatorix was seated at a small table in the courtyard, enjoying a meal with a tall, striking women, while his manservant stood at his shoulder. The king was a tall, lean man, with a sharp patricians face that was oddly delicate, a hawklike nose and unlined brow, where two dark violet eyes stared out, seemingly constantly at motion. He was thin as a sabre and hard as a poker, appearing cold and deadly, even in the relaxed atmosphere. He wore dark leather armor despite the obvious casualness of the courtyard, forgoing mail for the greater flexibility it allowed him.
His hair was silvery-gold and skin was pale, almost inhuman. His sword was belted on his hip in easy reach, and he would habitually stroke it when thinking.
The women he was eating with was tall and thin, with clothes more suited to a young rake out prowling the taverns to a noble women, despite her station being clear by the way she held herself. Yet the incongruity did nothing to diminish her presence, which rivaled the kings own. She wore knee high boots and red leather breaches that clung to her long legs. A soft whit shirt rose above a silver trimmed belt, that circled her slender waist, that was in turn covered by a black leather chest, the straps unbuckled where the garment constrained the swell of he breast. A heart shaped face rose above this, framed by delicate flaxen locks. Her eyes were like sapphires, beautiful and vibrant, yet harder then steel, and her full lips were pursed.
Seeing you approach, Galbatorix tilted his head, a clear indication to join them.

Lawerence and Holo
"Nothing illegal." He assures you. Of course, given the law in D'Hara is whatever Richard wants it to be, it can't be illegal by definition.
"I simply would like you to transport goods for us, and help us disperse the loot we take from the Imperial Order."

Tanis, Tasselhoff
You slip through narrow corridors and claustrophobic rooms, seemingly at random, trying to find an exit. When at last you do, you feel sinking horror. You're imprisoned in one of her flying fortresses, hovering over the Hadrac dessert. And it was a long way down.
You suppose that explains the lack of guards, at least. Where would you go?

Kitaria
Your commanders assemble. As a Dragonlord you can always count on well drilled efficiency and finely honed discipline in your men, even the goblinoids that serve as little more then fodder.
The Blue Dragonarmy numbers ten thousand soldiers, two thousand draconians, five thousand human mercenaries and three thousand goblinoids, ogres and other expendable savages, including a few giants, and a force of one thousand war-loving minotaurs. Your men are as disciplined as possible, and you have eighty or so dragons, most young and inexperienced. They have been forced to grow up quickly by the war, however, and will follow your orders.
Your leaders are your two commanders, and the three representatives from the orders of the Knights of Neraka, all of whom stand in full dress plate-armor, hands on their swords. They always do their best to give the best impression possible.
You have a serious amount of offensive power, but you still don't feel as confident as you'd like. Hence your alliance to the Varden.
Commander Bakaris, handsome and strong featured, cutting a dashing figure in the black emanelled full plate, trimmed with blue, clapped his fist to his chest and stepped forward. He hasn't shaved, and the stubble gives him a faintly roguish look. He knows you like it.
Enunciating clearly in his slow, steady voice, he remained totally expressionless, as though giving a report about the weather. "After allying with the alliance we are prepared to march instantly. We estimate we can take Belatona in four weeks. Three, if the Varden provide adequate support. After that we will be best spent resupplying and fortifying. The Varden intend to then plan to march on Dras-Leona, giving them a clear path to Urû'baen, and a fortress to fall back on if necessary. It is suicide to do so, it will give Galbatorix the means to attack our flank or rear, and to attack our supply lines. We would be crushed between two rocks. Better to take the fortress, and raid from there, rather then attempt a second siege."

[darkblade]

Lawrence and Holo

"I'd rather not get involved in the war so directly it's not good for business." Lawrence says shaking his head.

Holo though raises her hand and speaks for the first time in this meeting. "Let us hear him out first. It could be a fine job."

***

Zasamal

Zasamal stands on his guard, Galbatorix forged himself an Empire through blood, even in his old age he would be a formidable foe. "I killed an entire shift of your gaurd. Their blood still stains my cloack yet you don't raise a hand against me?"

[industrious]

Allecia, Cleon and Pellew
She hadn't. And your purpose for coming here fails to make itself known, or immediately express itself. You see plenty you object to, but nothing that strikes you as important enough to drag you here.
After a few minutes and no leads it occurs to you that perhaps you might have more luck asking around then wandering about aimlessly.

"So Quorell--"

She reels back from the name as if struck. In a very real sense, she had been. "Allecia."

"The Fiend has led us here on a wild scamp chase. I wonder why this sounds so familiar."

He is moments away from drawing the Sword, and finally putting an end to her. His fingers grip the smooth leather wrapped around its hilt...

"Why do you even have the Sword, then? If she intended to kill us, she wouldn't have let you near it."

He releases its hilt. Cleon had a point.

"Fair enough. Let's get us a wagon, a pair of horses. See if anything's wrong in this dull, lifeless city, other than its existence."

[Cracklord]

Lawrence and Holo
"Fortunes of war are common place. Gold, other valuables, and less rare but still useful commodities are claimed by soldiers, who keep some for themselves and send the rest to the quatermaster to make note of it. Of course, loot is of no use to us, we need to translate it to money. We cannot spare the men, of course, and so we take trustworthy people on retainer, and give them the opportunity to find buyers and make contacts, and keep a fair share of the profits themselves." He replies.
"There is a small fortune to be made, of course."

Zasamal
"It wouldn't do any good. You'd just come back again." He replies, politely, setting aside his meal. He steepled his fingers in front of him and stared at the figure, his dark eyes boring holes in him.
"If you came to kill me, you'll never get a better chance. You're armed, and within range. If you came for something else, sit down, and enjoy fine food and fine company.

Allecia, Cleon and Pellew
Ahead is the palace of Emperor Jagang, dominating the skyline, not much grander then the poorest building, although far larger and made of better quality stone.
The buildings lay in neat rows of darkened, mud-chinked houses. There was no glass in the panes, and the wood had been warped with exposure to the elements. Few people roamed the street, but those who did stared, nudging one another and passing comments they couldn't hear.
A man approached. He had an honest face anybody would end money too, and the pig arms of a tradesman. He didn't seem disturbed by their appearances, and offered his hand. "I hear you plan to be doing some traveling. That's good, but it will be hard on foot. I don't suppose you'd be interested in purchasing a few horses?"

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"That was not the reaction I was expecting." Zasamal says taking the offered seat. The entire reason for this was to make Galbatorix scared and press harder against the Varden but that didn't work out it would seem.

***

Holo and Lawrence

"You have instiutionalized the age old tradition of looting?" Holo asks with a slight laugh, her ears begin twitching again check for any falsehoods in what the General says.

All the while Lawrence sliently considers the prospects of the offer. It's risky as it would mean essentially smuggling looted goods through Imperial territory to sell and reduce to a liquid profit but there was a lot of money to be made like this venture of they could pull it off. Then there was also the issue of their new body guard, he didn't seem like the type to accept this kind of scheme with good grace.

[Executor]

Weary, but unbowed, the Myrmidons trudged along the rocky shore, having found the dense forest to be almost completely untraversable. The wail of the aulos keeps the pace as they trudge, the pebbles harsh and punishing on their barely clad feet, their sandals mere remains from the force of the storm. The men wore their helmets tipped upwards on their heads, for comfort in the unyielding heat. Still, the reedy aulos wailed, and they marched, ever onwards. None amongst them could tell what drew them on, what sense of direction and destiny kept them marching along that barren shore, but something was pulling them ever onwards.

After many miles, they saw it. A city, where the mountains drew near to the coast. It was a city as harsh as the shore along which they marched, it appeared to almost be carved out of native rock rather than built out of stone and brick. A little pep appeared in the steps of the Myrmidons, they were visibly heartened by the city drawing nearer and nearer as they marched, smiles appeared on faces previously given over to despair, and hope was felt once more. However, as they drew nearer and nearer to the immense, forboding walls. There were no banners on the towers, nor was there any glitter of arms upon the battlement. Indeed, the city seemed unnaturally quiet as they marched closer and closer.

Finally, they came to stand before an enormous gate of solid oak bound by great iron bands. All was silence but for the cries of distant birds of prey as the ragged band stood before the gates. A look was exchanged between Achilles and Eudorus.

"I am Achilles, Lord of the Myrmidons, let the gates be opened that we may enter!" Achilles yelled. The words echoed on the distant hills, but there was no answer.

"We could find a warmer welcome at a funeral mound" muttered Patroclus impatiently, as they awaited an answer to their challenge.

[industrious]

Allecia

Allecia is, to all appearances, an extremely beautiful woman. And while she is dressed in the androgynous turquoise robes of the Arcane University, her face is still dazzling.

"Yes," she says, smiling at the trader, and shaking his outstretched hand. "We are, as well as a wagon. We have a number of goods we have to carry on our journey."

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
"I am far from regular, you will find." He replies, still watching you. "You strike me as a wise man, or at least a knowledgeable one. And yet you have given fealty to the Varden, which is a poor move indeed."
He opens his hands, and takes his goblet, but he doesn't drink. Not yet. "The Varden are outnumbered, out-maneuvered and out-generaled. When this storm blows over I will still be on my throne, even more strongly entrenched then before. And even if by some miracle they did succeed, what difference would it make? This empire has existed as long as there have been humans, and will continue as long as people live together. The Empire goes on no matter who runs it. Anyone who can see history knows this to be true. So why do you serve them?"

Holo and Lawrence
"We are an army, not some undisciplined rabble, and strive to a better conduct of behavior. By acting in good faith, we ensure a fair market value, and most of them end up richer for their honesty as the market is not flooded by lots of goods at once." He says calmly.

Achilles
Kuasta was only a city in terms of population and density of structures. It was more of a permanent military camp, the buildings devoted entirely to defense. The city had a Hexagonal shaped outer wall more then forty feet high, that was wide enough for a troop of soldiers to march six abreast along it's length. Each corner of the wall was further fortified into a fortress itself, containing it's own barracks, armory and storerooms. The cities two gates were likewise fortified with imposing gatehouses that could rain death on any attempt to break through their iron-banded doors. As his retinue drew closer to the gates, a horn sounded mournfully and the massive portals swung open.
Within moments the soldiers were trooping beneath the arch of the southwest gate and into a narrow tunnel. Heavy stone blocks seemed to press in from either side, and he made out narrow arrow-slits and murder holes on each side. After ten yards the passage narrowed sharply to the right, then back to the left again. Unlike most cities, the streets were laid out in neat, orderly lines.
A troop of soldiers kept watch at exit, their faces impassive and their wicked looking halberds held ready. At their head stood a towering, lanky figure in chainmail. He was old then Meric, but not so old as to leave service in search of a quieter life. His skin was darkened by years of exposure from campaigning in the field, and his long curved sword at his hip was studded with gems. He was bald as an egg, his right ear had been torn off completely, and his left cheek was scarred and crumpled, lending his features a horrid, unbalanced cast.
"This is an Imperial city, and you have the look of soldiers. What brings you here?"

Allecia
The man led them to a small, dimly lit stable. There were four horses stabled in, gray and chestnut. Two were big stallions, one was a mare, and the other a tiny, awkward foal. All were from beautiful stock, and had been carefully bred by an expert.
"Beautiful, aren't they? Inherited them from my brother Burrich, who bred them for a living. He bred for royalty, and left me almost a hundred. I've sold most by now, but can't find a buyer for these. Not that there's anything wrong with them, just it's a rare man who can afford a horse like this. But you look like you appreciate value when you see it, madam."

[doliest]

Tass
"Ooh. We're trapped on a flying castle! Think we could land it, Tanis?" Tass had some experience with landing flying castles. At least he thought he did. He couldn't quite remember, alot of the stories drifted together after the third time he told them in the cell.


Kitaria
She grins as she listens to her soldier's anaylsis. One of the many things she valued about her force was that her soldiers were capable of adapting on their own. She demanded obidience, not idiocy. "Hm. We'll, first we'll have to make sure they're willing to ally with us. If they refuse....well, if they refuse, what are our options?" She already knew them, but it was always important to make sure her soldiers understood them. That way they could move quickly in response to the situation.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander does take the chance to shake off the dizziness, and straighten himself up. He then looks in amazement for a fraction of a second at the results of his shooting. Huh. He was fully expecting that to miss horribly.

However, he soon nocks an arrow back, taking aim at the creature's head. He plans to fire at similar spots several times, trying to crack the stone enough to get it to practically slide off of the creature's face.

He lets the first of a hopeful barrage of arrows fly, with hope.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"My allegiances lie exclusively with myself. The Varden simply just posses resources that interest me. It is nothing personal your majesty." Zasamal explains.

"Just politics."

***

Holo and Lawrence

"How very thoughtful of you." Holo chuckles.

"How close to the front lines would we have to get?" Lawrence asks.

[industrious]

Allecia

"Oh, I do."

Allecia marvels over the horses, but it is Cleon who inspects them more fully. One of his philosophies as a general was that a leader should be able to do all that his men could; he was no expert in horses, but he did have a decent amount of experience. Inspecting his cavalry before each battle was both a useful way to learn and a practical form of assessing his troops.

At his nod, Allecia's smile widens.

"How much for all four?"

[Cracklord]

Kitaria
He smiles at that. "Well, we could try the Empire, though I expect that'll be a good way to be killed, the king doesn't seem like anybodies fool. Or we could simply begin conquest for ourselves, and play the sides off each other. Of course, there is always the chance that they'll unite against us, and the best we could hope for is a fiefdom. And you always have to have the whole kingdom, milady." He winked, as though he was still sharing your bed, then went on.
"Anyway, we cannot afford to wait, we don't have the supplies, so we need action as soon as possible."
The master of the Order of the Skull stepped forward, a tall, broad shouldered man with a hard, pinched face and the solemnity of a professional mourner, who was almost impossible to believe was over eighty. "The Queen of Darkness has remained quiet, and the omens are inconclusive. We can give you no advice in which course to take."

Wander
The thing staggers backwards, stumbling, and raises it's forearms to protect it's vulnerable head. It's stomps towards you, trying to close the distance and bring you back into range of it's lashing arms.

Allecia
The man scratched his chin. "Together... shall we say four hundred pieces?" He said, roughly half what they were worth if you were any judge, yet his eyes are shrewd. You wonder if the economy is bad, there is a tremendous gulf in the exchange rate, he's desperate to get rid of them, unaware of their true worth or he's just doing you a favor.

Zasamal
"Understood. We all serve our own interests in the end, I suppose. Though I wonder what he could possibly have that you could get nowhere else."

Holo and Lawrence
"You wouldn't. The Quartermaster is here, and has them prepared. No, the issue would be getting it to the Empire for distribution. You are welcome to a fifteen percent margin, and will be expected to keep a record of the transactions."

[doliest]

Kitaria
She didn't trust 'Galbatorix' and not just because he seemed the type, based on his history, to slaughter her army for fun. Or in some d*** fool gambit. He simple seemed the type to get rid of her when she stopped being useful. Unfortunately the same could be said of Rahl, and that left a disorganized rabble. No, the Varden were the only acceptable course if she wanted to rule more than a small plot of land. She'd just have to make them useful. "That's about as suprising as the sun coming up. She only chooses to intervene when events are clearly heading towards a conclusion she wants. Until then, she'll clam up." Kitaria held nothing but respect for her Queen. But that didn't mean she trusted her as a viable source of information or aid. It wasn't in her Queen's(or her own) nature. "Still, Soth should make a good impression on them." That they could afford to throw away her offer, anyway.

[Executor]

"Angry gods. As I'm sure you know, there was a storm some days ago, our ship was blown off-course and we were wrecked on your shores. I am Achilles, son of Peleus" Achilles said to the disfigured old soldier, as he removed his helmet, already tipped upwards on his head, fully, exposing the sweat-drenched golden hair to the sun, whose light almost seemed to reflect off his blond locks.

"These are my comrades: Patroclus, son of Menoetius, and Eudorus, son of Audorus. The rest of these men are the Myrmidons, my companions and personal bodyguard. We hail from Larissa, in the land of Greece. We seek food and lodging, and to find passage back to Greece" he explained. As he mentioned them, the Myrmidons raised their spears in salute to the 'Imperial' captain of this city. Some men still bore purses of silver drachmae, if all of them pooled their money, they might be able to find a decent enough tavern.

[industrious]

Allecia, Cleon, and Pellew

"A bargain."

In one fluid motion, she removes a bag of gold from her waist, and lightly tosses it to the man.

"There are five hundred gold pieces in that bag. Consider the additional hundred a bonus."

It also counted as 100 weights upon the man's conscience, if he had one. Allecia was a very good judge of character. One couldn't manipulate others without understanding them.

It also wasn't as if she was worried about money; in the various chests they had brought with her, she had brought almost 10 thousand gold pieces. The Champion's wealth was estimated at over 200 thousand gold pieces; a result of the various lost treasures he had uncovered, his salaries from being guild head, the bounties from the heads of dead bandits and threats to the Realm, and the gold that those threat's gear fetched on the open market.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"Something that only will come into play when they are backed into a corner. This meeting was supposed to drive you to do just that but it seems to have been a waste." Zasamal explains rising back to his feet.

***

Holo and Lawrence

"I'll have to inspect the merchandise first but I think it is safe to say you have a deal General." Lawrence says rising to his feet and holding out his hand to the General.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Using the time that the creature takes stumbling and trying to protect itself, Wander slings his longbow across his back, cups his hands, and gives a single shout.

"AGRO!!"

The horse's ears perk up at the mention of his name. The second shout sends him galloping towards his master, taking care to avoid the creature. As he does so, Wander runs over, meeting Agro as he comes to a sliding stop. Wander swings up into the saddle like he'd done so many times before, and kicked Agro in the sides to get him to run. Now, it had become a game of cat and mouse, Wander on Agro trying to get to an opening where he could fire at the Colossus' head.

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
"Stay seated." he says, and his calm voice is suddenly steely and hard.

Holo and Lawrence
He shakes. His hand is hard, calloused and strong, a soldiers hand.His grip is firm, but he doesn't squeeze or try to assert his dominance.
"Of course. I will have it sent to you in the morning. Feel free to take a room, and I will have arrange to have a meal sent up."

Allecia, Cleon, and Pellew
He takes it with good grace, but an air of expectance, as though the extra was only natural. A strange people. He stands, and, with a further smile, opens the door for you. "The Horses are yours. I regret I do not have a wagon, but there is a carpenters workshop several streets away, and he will probably have several. Provisions will be harder, the Order imposes a strict system for ensuring nobody takes more resources then is their share, but I wish you the best."
He then indicates a row of neatly stacked sacks of grain and oats. "Please take the feed as a gift."

Achillies
He pauses, considering you carefully, then nods. "Alright. Keep your weapons, as long as you don't use them and can pay your way we won't have a problem. Meric!"
A young looking soldier steps forward and inclines his head. No salute, you notice.
"Take these men to somewhere that's not full up and see to it that the owner doesn't rip them off too much. And keep an eye on them."
He nods again, then turns and begins walking down the road, navigating despite the lack of signs or landmarks you can see. The buildings are carved with uniform similarity, everyone all but identical. Outsides would quickly become lost, you expect.

[industrious]

Allecia and Pellew

"Thank you. Cleon? Would you mind getting us a wagon?"

The ex-general nods and departs.

"Provisions shouldn't be a problem," she remarks. "We'll only need enough for two. I'm a light eater."

She wasn't quite human; she didn't need to eat, though eating was still extremely pleasurable. And Pellew's diluted blood made eating not nearly as much a requirement either.

[Cracklord]

Cleon
You get one with little trouble. It's well made, sprung, and looks sturdy. The wheels are smaller then you'd like, and it will be slow, but otherwise you hard to find it at fald. You go to one of the granaries, and find it is exactly as he stated, you are given allotted amounts and are not aloud to purchase more, regardless of circumstances. It reminds you somewhat of the collective systems in place in some agricultural communities. The thought of attempting it in a city this size seems faintly ridiculous.

Wander
As you aim, you see the rune, beneath it's chin.

[AnimeKid]

repost Link

He walks forward slowly his hand still on the hilt of his sword. He approaches the king and says, "Hello?" He is ready incase he tries to pull anything. After all he did learn something from all those surprise boss fights.

Auron

He sighs and follows his employers. He had a very bad feeling about this. Many bad things happened to those who got to greedy. Hence why he was so apprehensive. The man may not have been lying, but he could have not told the whole truth. So Auron decided to be extra cautious on this mission to make sure that his client was still alive at the end.

Lazlo

He follows Tavi and the group to the tower and listens to the negotiations. It was times like these that he wished Lady Elenor was here. She was a master tactician and knew how to handle people. Some of her technique had rubbed off on him, but he did not think that he knew enough to help Tavi. Not to mention he wasn't exactly long winded. So for now he would do what he did best and remain silent.

[industrious]

Cleon

Well, that was irritating.

"So, you're telling me, that even though I was sent to get provisions for 3, all three of us have to be present in order to get that amount? Doesn't that seem a bit far-fetched? What if you have a surplus or a shortage? What then?"

Still, he wasn't going to press the argument. Each to his own, at least for a while.

"Fine. Give me the grain, and I'll be on my way."

They had enough dried provisions to last. Pellew wouldn't particularly like eating jerkied meat, but he'd survive. So would Cleon. Campaigning on hardtack was brutal, but it worked.

[Corvond]

Gaborn Val Orden
(Isn't Link mute?)
He makes his way over to Link, and the first thought that flashes through the young man's head was 'but he's not much older then me...'
And it was true. Gaborn, for all his beard and the time that had passed was barely twenty, and the years had been kind to him. Far from some ancient custodian of wisdom, beneath the white beard he looked like anyone you could meet, kind and fair, who would be happy to give you the coat off his back should you need it.
The Earthking inspects the young man approaching him, seeing him without conscious desire, staring into his soul in an instant as he weighs him. His soul was noble, brave, courageous and daring, and would stand by him and what was right whatever came. Gaborn Chose him without hesitating, or even needing to think about it.
The moment he did, the felt danger resonate, and he knew the boy was in danger. By choosing him, Gaborn had bestowed apon him a great honor, as in the time to come few would survive, even among those Gaborn chose. Gaborn had given him something nobody else in the world could offer. He gave him a chance to live. Nothing more, and nothing less.
His friends and companions had finished righting themselves, and Ivarian Borenson got to his feet behind him, his hand clasped to his belt, and incidentally near the large hafted hammer that hung from a loop in his belt. "Gaborn?"
"It's fine." The King said, and it was. Rooting around in the bag y him, he removes a hundred forcibles. The forcibles look like branding irons with a complex rune at their tip, made of some strange metal like blood stained steel. And they are amongst the most valuable things in the world at the moment.
He kneels down beside the Hero of Time, and gives him a smile, pressing them into his hand. "I have a favor to ask of you." He says, and as he does he feels the danger die down. "I will need friends and followers, if we are to survive. I will go West, but someone must go East to spread word of my coming. Tell them I return, and tell them there is hope."

Tywin Lannister
He ignores the letter, handing it back to his son, and sweeps out of the room, four guards in red satin cloaks following after him, their decorative, ornamental spears still sharp enough to kill. At their head is a man in battered, dented armor that is well cared for despite the wear, and a stylized, ornamental helmet shaped like a snarling hound. The visor was up, revealing a hard face, the right side charred and blackened by fire to a horrible degree. It was a face out of nightmare, and was the last thing more then a few people had seen. His tabard was yellow, and decorated with the three dogs of house Clegane. He was a dog, from a line of dogs. And he was Tywin's dog. Lord have mercy who he was set on.
Benjamin and the two merchants will no doubt start, as the massive figure slams the door open with a clenched fist, glaring at them as though his fondest dreams were spent killing them slowly. Tywin steps in, hands clasped behind his back, and frowns down at Benjamin.

[Cracklord]

Cleon
"There is never a surplus, we are careful with our supply to make sure that is not possible." He replies, sounding annoyed by your questioning. "And it is important to promote equality."
He stares at you another moment, then goes into the back room and returns with the promised goods, already prepared for you. "Your allotment, sir." It looks about enough to feed one person for a month.

Tywin Lannister
Benjamin Meiffert stares up at you, his expression carefully level and controlled. He's good at projecting calm, at least. "Yes, my lord?" He says, keeping his words noncommittal and emotionless.

Gaborn Val Orden, Link
The lush, verdant trees of the grove press at your sides, offering no paths or passages. As you look around, you hear several bowstrings being pulled taunt, and the ringing as the Earth warns you of danger.
An elf seems to materialize in front of you, emerging from the undergrowth. He is dressed in forest green armor that, while retaining a certain elegance to its design, seemed almost strictly utilitarian and serviceable, well used.
He has an inhumanly attractive face and long blond hair, and a lean, almost scrawny build, that somehow suggests strength. He raises one hand, then says in a musical voice
"You are surrounded. If you so much as breathe, you will be dead. I am Vanir, and you are trespassing. We do not suffer to allow humans in our groves." His voice is so arrogant it almost causes you physical pain. A gloved hand rests on a slightly curved saber at his hip, and is slightly to full lips are curved in the beginnings of a sneer, the sneer of someone who enjoys exercising what power he has.

[industrious]

The Paladin, The General, and the Fiend

There were several arguments he could make against total equality, but he wasn't going to. The place was dull and dreary, but the people didn't exactly seem oppressed, or discontent. If they wanted to be crazy, as long as they weren't hurting anyone else, they could be crazy.

"Well, thanks for the provisions. Have a good day."

Hitching and loading up the wagon would take time. But they didn't have much of an idea on what to do, so it was as good as any.

"I could prognosticate again, see what the future holds," Allecia offers.

"As good a shot as any." Pellew absent-mindedly remarks, sharpening his shortsword. The Sword of the Celestial, for all its power, was nigh useless against mundane opponents.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine takes the books, and she and her warder begin looking through them. For any help on where to find the Earth King.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
He nods.
I believe that is it then. Unless you have anything else to say.

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
"Well, Gimli old friend, I believe this is where I start to lead us through perilous terrain."
"Humph. Forests never were my forte. I'd be lost in a mere nest of saplings!"
He lets out a hearty laugh as the two make their way through the dense thicket, Legolas at the head and Gimli close behind. Legolas uses his short sword as a machete, cleaving branches from his path if they prove too dangerous or in unfavorable positions.

Tanis
"We couldn't do that. This castle is magical, and we've got 0 magicians on us. I hate to say it, but sometimes I miss Raistlin. He may have been a selfish man, but man if he wasn't a good mage. Oh well, all we have to do is search for a dragon to tame. Kitiara IS the head of the Blue Dragon Army, after all!"
He smiles as he walks back inside, instead looking for a route to a form of roost for the dragons. He didn't know if he could tame one, but he was going to try.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

The Merchants go off into Town to find a room for the night. Once thats dealt with Lawrence provides Holo with the bushel of apples he promised.

Holo in between devouring the apples looks up at Auron. "You have your suspicions about this contract?"

***

Zasamal

Zasamal makes no attempt to sit down again. "And if I do not?"

[nanobot_swarm]

The Beast
More Slayers emerge from the Black Fortress, and the Beast gives them new orders. Slayers begin to set fire to the trees in the forest, to try and smoke the elves out of hiding, the Beast uses its powers to dry out the air and plants to make the task easier for his minions.

Nekron
He laughes at the letter sent, a great uproar of laughter that makes his servants nervous. He eventually stops, then calmly states, "Let him send armies, let him send assassins, mages from some simple academey. All will fall before my power, so let them come, and be slaughtered like the rodents they are." The Glacier begins to shake again, and he moves it forward again, at least fifteen miles by day's end, and goes back to rest in his throne. Once again, the sub-humans are released to pillage and raid the locals.

[Falgorn]

The 'Ard Boyz
Where ten thousand orcs go, they don't need roads. The lush, young evergreens of the ven pressed at their sides, channeling them into a narrow, dark, green, walled route cut through the brush and branches. They could see little around them.
After a time, the ground started rising and becoming rockier, and the tree's thinned slightly, allowing a more open view. The trail twisted along deeply shaded cuts in the terrain and across leaf-strewn ravines. Dry leaves scattered at their passing. Pines and spruce gave way to hadwood trees, mostly white birch, and as the limbs swayed overhead to a silent breeze, tiny patches of sunlight danced on the forest floor.
But there is nothing in sight to fight, and the trees feel like they are mocking you. They is green like orcs, but they hide orcs enemies.

The 'Ard Boyz
Grimgor was, of course, angry. He wanted to kill. All of the orcs did. Angrily, he chopped a shrub, twisted and malnourished, into pieces. He pressed on, though. If there was one thing he had learned over the years of conquest, it was to be just a bit patient. After all, if you wait a bit, they might try to ambush you. Then you can chop em' to bitz. The thought of himself chopping foes to pieces, covered in blood and giddy as can be, was the only thing that kept Ironhide moving.

[Executor]

Achilles

"Achilles, this is no city, it's a fortress" Patroclus muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the Lord of the Myrmidons to hear. Achilles couldn't help but agree, this city had a military harshness about it that, while he didn't find it too unagreeable, was a far cry from the vibrant cities of Greece like Mycenae or Tiryns. There was no music in the streets here, such as one might find in Athens, nor did he hear the chantings of prayers to the gods, as was constant in holy Delphi. For all the living people in this city, it seemed devoid of life and joy. All around them, as they marched, people on either side of the streets stared at them with hard, almost soulless eyes.

"My lord Meric, I must confess I am not familiar with this city" spoke Eudorus, breaking the silence between the Myrmidons. For a moment, the captain and Achilles locked eyes, and then Achilles nodded for Eudorus to continue.

"If you do not mind the inquiry, may I ask what is this city's name? And whom is it's king? We have never heard of any city that identifies itself as "Imperial" back in Greece" Eudorus asked.

[doliest]

Tasslehoff
That didn't sound right...but it did sound fun. He walks after Tanis, "Maybe we should find some weapons first...or guard uniforms! Yeah, let's conk a few guards and grab some uniforms." It didn't occur to him that he was too short...but then, incarceration hadn't been too good for these two. They were just happy to be out.

[The Shoveler]

Tanis
"Yeah, we could use the weapons... maybe they're holding our weapons in a special guard area? We could clonk out a guard and take his weapons so we could get ours!"
Tanis is more than a little influence by the Kender. A month in a cell alone with a kender will do that to anyone. And I mean anyone.

[horngeek]

Matt
"The Empress will judge you. But it falls to us to accuse you." He replies in his soft, measured voice. "So first, it falls to me to determine the extent of your crime by any means I see fit." His pitch does not change in the slightest, you really have no idea how the menace managed to creep into his words.
"Now, why were you impersonating one of the guard, and what is your connection to the barbarian? It is clear you are not one of the people, and likely that you are one of the outlanders who gained special dispensation to dock here. Do you plan any sedition or mean to attempt any acts of sabotage against the Empire?"

"I was trying to bloody avoid impersonating the Deathwatch Guard. The raven on that spear's unrelated to the Seanchan, I didn't have a choice about the decoration, but I paid too much for it to throw it away, so I was trying to keep it covered. The crazy old man? No idea who he was, I was just gambling with him and being too lucky for my own good, bloody again. And no, I have no bloody intention to act against your Empire."

[Cracklord]

Mat
He listens to your words without interrupting. "I will be the judge of that." He says when you are done your reply, impassive.
"You claim that this is unconnected to the throne, which strains credulity. You claim not to be spreading sedition, yet you were observed with a group who assaulted a member of the Deathwatch Guard." He pauses, lets that sink in, then says "It is not my place to judge, that right is reserved for the empress. But unless you stop lying, I anticipate a noose in your future. Only the blood and Imperial servants get beheaded, and you are neither."
That said, he nods to the driver, who begins to goad his mount in the direction of the palace.

Grimgor
An arrow hits you, unable to pierce the solid plate of bone and sloping forhead that you call a skull, but leaving a bloody trail along the side of your head. You barely notice. What is one more scar, really?

Achilles
"Greece?" He pauses, startled. "But.. but that's only a story! A land where men have the heads of bulls, the gods walk amongst men and work there whiles on women that they spirit away, and the trees walk and talk. There is no such place!"
Then he shakes his head, regaining his manners. "I am sorry, though the storm must have taken you a long way. This land is Alagesia, and the Empire is ruled by King Galbatorix."

Zasamal
"We will discuss your indiscretion from a cell, instead. I'm sure even my torturers do not faze you, but the thought of being trapped, unable to act or watch events proceed as your chance slips away... that must be quite terrifying. Perhaps I could cripple you, remove your arms, legs and tongue. You'd live a long time, unable to even die." He smiles, a humorless smile, and gestures at the chair.
"Sit. You killed twenty men. I am not in the habit of forgiving, or forgetting."

Kitiara
Bakaris had been in the saddle for six hours since dawn, riding from encampment to encampment and preparing the army to march.
The camp was already packed, just the frame's and canvas of the tents remaining upright.
He rode through the skeleton of the camp, watching unconcernedly as around him soldiers busied themselves stowing goods and filling packs for the long march ahead. The tents themselves were a uniform slate gray, set out in neat, orderly rows a far cry from the disorganized sprawl of any encampment most armies created. Palisade had been carefully erected around the place in case of attack, and the tents were in neat, orderly rows, gear was kept in tidy pile, and even the inevitable rubbish heap was kept contained in a tiny enclosure.
In an hour, they would be prepared for inspection.
Horns sounded as the Blue Dragon army prepared to march. The bright sunlight glinted off their polished armor and the keen blades of their weapons. In a week, they would be at war.
Skie is coiled like some immense serpent, waiting for his mistress and his orders.

[horngeek]

"Bloody..."

Mat sighs. "Sometimes I wonder if it really is bloody luck."

[Colesign]

Tavi

After sending a messenger off, Tavi and his entourage follows the Prince to the room. After listening to his request Tavi raises his hands.

"Trading partners, yes. Allies, yes. Colonies, no."

He gestures to the Aleran contingent (a solid mix of Knights and a few High Lords, the group of Canim led by Varg, (warriors sniffing at the air, and a older-looking Canim dressed in what looks like black chitin, grey scars coating his arms), and his Marat wife Kitai.

"We the allied races of Carnea have little need for new land. Indeed such is the size of our country that we are still expanding to fill it up. Because it got depopulated during a war for our very survival, but let's not mention that, Tavi thought.

"We sailed to this new Continent to learn about the nations of this land, trade with them, and forge bonds of friendship between us, so that all the Free people of the world may grow closer and stronger. I believe we have much to offer each other."

Tavi gestured to some of his guards, and they bring forth some chests: Tavi gestures to the first one.

"Precious metals: Gold, Silver, Obsidian, Jade, and Iron for the forges." The first chest opens to reveal the aforementioned substances: some are raw nuggets, and others are worked into coins.

"Elegantly crafted jewels for the Aristocracy." The second chest contains various bits of intricate jewelry, the most prominent examples being necklaces with sapphires glowing in an orange color: merely holding these necklaces stirs feelings of passion and excitement (a minor fire furycrafting).

"Precious silks and practical Mountintop Ram cotton. " The third chest reveals lengths of cloth: even the plain cotton is weaved in complex patterns that seam impossible to achieve via needle and thread.

"Various foodstuffs, from wheat, barley, and rice to "Croach", a bland yet very nutritionally rich fungus." This chest reveals samples of each.

"Practical everyday items, such as coldstones for preserving food, Furylamps for light, and optical lenses from the Romanic University." There are rows of carefully ground convex and concave lenses, some mounted in proto-telescopes, small glass stones that are inexplicably freezing to the touch, and lamps with hoods, that when uncovered, blaze with a light as bright as the sun."

"Finally," Tavi says, standing up. "There are the various skills and talents that we, as a nation, possess in excess. Our healers are second to none in skill and efficiency, our construction corps can create durable, powerful, and enduring constructions for both military and civilian purposes, and our...security measures are second to none."

Tavi gestures, and two Legionnaires open the final chest...and remove a stone block, apparently granite in origin. The pick it up, carry it, and set it on the ground in front of the Prince.

"I think that there's a lot we can both offer each other." Tavi concludes.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander decides to fire an arrow at the rune, trying to get an opening to hop onto the Colossus and get a good stab at him.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

Zasamal smiles slightly as he takes his seat again. If the circumstances were different he would have enjoyed this man's company, perhaps even call him a friend. It had been quite a long time since he had one of those. "Very well."

[Executor]

Achilles smiled as he came to walk beside Meric, on the opposite side of the guard as Eudorus.

"I assure you, Meric, that there is such a place. I was born there. My mother was one of the gods of whom you speak. You may have heard of her, Thetis the Nereid?" he said, still smiling as he remembered his mother. Wrathful and deadly though Achilles may be, he still loved his mother, as all men do.

"Indeed, I have seen and met the Gods, Meric, and many other strange things. I was raised by Chiron, a centaur. His upper half was of a man, but he had the body of a horse. A very wise centaur, Chiron, and I miss him... No matter, we are from Greece, the land of your stories," he finished, allowing Eudorus to continue.

"We have never heard of your King Galbatorix, but perhaps you might have heard of the High King in Greece? King Agamemnon of Mycenae. We were part of his army, sailing to make war on the wicked Trojans for an insult against the Greeks. The story is long, and we shall not bore you with it, but we must be returning." The Captain said.

"Indeed, the Oracle has foretold that Troy shall not fall unless my friend Achilles is with the army, so I imagine Agamemnon is sick with worry without him" Patroclus joked as he jogged up to fall into step beside Achilles. Eudorus chuckled, the animosity between the High King and the Lord of the Myrmidons was the talk of gossips in all of Greece. Achilles smiled and punched Patroclus lightly in the shoulder jokingly, though even a light blow from Achilles' lean arms made the slightly built Patroclus wince slightly.

"I have never heard of Algaesia, Meric, not even in our stories and tales. However, your land must have been carved by an angry Titan, for your mountains remind me of a jagged, serrated blade. It must not be a pleasant place to dwell," Achilles remarked as they continued to follow Meric through the straight, uniform streets of the fortress-city.

[Cracklord]

Legolas and Gimli
You make your way into the unforgiving woods, that refuse to acknowledge Legolas, instead brooding sullenly and competing with each other for every inch of ground. As two of the three hunters neither of you are even puffed, once you ran for nearly a fortnight, barely stopping for rest with almost no food or water after the Uruk-hai.
At last you emerge into a section of burnt farmland, choked with weeds and pebbles in the process of being reclaimed by nature. A few shells of buildings remain, but there are no signs of habitation or life.
You are in the ruins of Caraval.

Mat
As in most cities, the approach to the palace was jammed with buildings, homes and shops, as densely as possible. They came over the rise, and you beheld the pallace of the Seanchan, from which the decendants of Artur Paendrag endured. Outbuildings, smithies, barracks, servants housing, barns, kennels, granaries and sotrehouses ringed the hill cheek by jowl within the granite walls, but the crown of the hill was all castle. Steps broad enough for horses led to the first tier of the outer hall. The outer hall had a roof but no walls, leaving it oddly exposed to the elements. Enormous pillars held a majestic roof of marble, onyx,stained glass and jade.
The two of you walk through the great black oak doors into the inner entry. Here, white staircases framed each side of the room, a great imperial purple carpet led further into the palace, and gold and marble statuary lined the hall.
They walked into the great hall, past decorative geometric patterns and starbursts - all composed of swords and spears. It was a display meant to send a message to visiting emissaries; we have so many armaments, we decorate with them. Here you stop.
After a two hour wait with the silent Deathwatch Guard, a servant comes to collect Mat. He wore the regalia of his office like a man who wore it as armor, not ornamentation.
The Deathwatch guard nods at him. "I request the audience of Her majesty the empress Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag, may she live forever." He says. "I bring this man here, on charges of working to incite sedition and undermine her rule, assault on a servant of the throne, and impersonation of the Deathwatch guard."
The servant bows. "She has heard you entreaty, and chosen to grace you with her presence. I am to take you to her immediately."

Moraine & Lan
You find a few oblique references, but nothing definite, until at last things look up, with a mention of the elves.
Elves. Creatures of legend told in some of your favorite stories, like the legend of the nine rings, and the tales of Shannara. Reading faster now, you find a few more specific mentions, concerning a crown of leaves.

The Paladin, The General, and the Fiend
War cloaks the future, a terrible war to rival hell itself. A war you are moving towards, and a war you will get caught up in. A tide of blood and death will sweep over this continent, and then you see something, no more then an oblique mention, like something caught in the corner of your eye, of something worse.
You shudder at it.


Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
"Of course. As your majesty wishes. Our troops should arrive in a week." He bow's again, then departs, leaving you alone in your pyramid.

Tanis, Tass
There is no easy way to guess where the dragons are, though Tass remembers riding one with Flint. That one was silver, but it had to be the same trick, afterall. Someone would have mentioned it if it wasn't, and he specifically remembers nobody saying that the tecnique for riding a blue dragon was different. That in mind, he turns and makes his way up the hallway, looking for a hatchery or a nest.
Instead he finds the barracks, where some hundred winged draconians and humans were sitting at tables and conversing in low voices. Fortunately they don't glance up and notice the diminutive kender.

[horngeek]

Mat sighs. "All right. Let's go, then."

He thinks. He is married to the woman, but still...

he'll follow the Seeker.

[Cracklord]

Mat
The throne room puts the rest of the palace to shame. It was designed to be impressive, overwhelming and intimidating. Decorative hangings, huge statues, complex designs on the floor, and everywhere you look there was some new wonder. But you found your eyes drawn irresistibly to the woman on the throne. Your wife.
The jade throne, under a vast ornamental canopy, was seated by a small, pretty woman with dark skin and big, expressive eyes. She was boyish rather then curvy, her hair was shaved to a supple and her fingernails were long and lacquered.
She smiled when she saw who was dragged in, a slow, wicked smile that makes your blood cold. Queen Tylin had smiled at you like that whenever she dreamed up some new indignity for you to bare.
"Treason, toy? And you always assured me you were a man of your word. Whatever shall I do with you?"

Achilles
"Not really, The Spine is to be endured, and the land has it's beauty. It's up North that is grim." He sighs. "Your story sounds like something out of my nurses tales, and yet I do not believe you are deceiving me. Truly it is hard to credit that such a thing can occur, and yet I don't doubt it."
He stops at a building that seems indistinguishable from the others, and nods. "Get some rest, it is growing dark."

Zasamal
"Well done." he says. "Now, regretful as it is that we must work at cross purposes, allow me to say I shall never be so lenient to you again. If you ever repeat this, I will entomb you beneath the universe and leave you to an eternity in darkness."
The moment holds for a bit, then is gone.
"You may go."

Tavi
Murtagh steps over, not bothering to conceal his interest in the sites. He ignores the gems, any wizard could do as well, but the rest is of considerable interest to him. He pours over them individually, asking the occasional question, but mostly simply admiring. At last he smiles. "Well then, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship." He says warmly and sincerely.
"I regret that we will be unable to house your entire retinue in the city at this time, so you will have to make provisions outside the walls. In addition, I would be honored if you would come with me on my return trip to Uru'Baen. The King will want to meet you himself."

[horngeek]

"Well, T-"

Mat catches himself. "Sorry. Calling you that would probably be insulting, or something like that since you're Empress now, wouldn't it? Anyway, my being ta'veren's being annoying. Again."

He does gulp a little, though.

{{Minor nitpick: as of their marriage, she's stopped calling him 'Toy', and is now calling him by his name.

His full first name. i.e. Matrim. :smalltongue:}}

[AnimeKid]

Auron

He nods a little surprised that she was talking to him after so little time. Guess she really does like apples. "My instincts have never failed me before, except for the times I outright ignored them. This job seems to have a lot of unfilled holes in it that I am wary of. However I will still do my job and protect Lawrence and by extension you. So I can only hope that the danger that I am sensing about this mission is exaggerated."

Link

He does not know how to get out of this situation other than wait for Navi to make an observation using her skills that he doesn't already know! and hope that it is something that can help them escape this situation.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"I can assure you that I have no reason to." Zasamal says rising to his feed and leaving the palace and searching the City for transportaion back to the South.

***

[Cracklord]

Mat
((I was unaware of that, but I'll keep it anyway, as she knows it irritates him and she wants to tease a little. And she's annoyed you haven't visited her yet.))
"Is it now? I suppose I'll have to use my imagination. Maybe lock you up, so nobody can ever bother you again." She waves a hand imperiously at the guards. "Leave us."
"You Highness-"
"It's an order. I am sure I am quite safe with my husband."
The Deathwatch guard glares at Mat, then nods and walks out, leaving the two of you alone.
"To think I have to have you arrested to come and visit me, Mattrim."

Wander
The arrow strikes it again, and the thing staggers but doesn't topple. You are hurting it, but not doing any lasting damage.

Zasamal
You find a wagon. You should be close enough to walk the rest of the way in a week.

[Corvond]

Gaborn
As the elf stepped forward, Gaborn stood tall, and stared at him, seeming calm and serene. He steps in front of Link, as though to protect him, and yet he makes no aggressive movement. "You are asleep to the powers of the earth. The great tree of life arches over you, and it's leaves whisper to you, but you choose not to hear them rustle. Instead you merely sleep among it's roots, and covert." His language is quiet, and he sounds as though he pities the elf, and only wishes to help it, much to the surprise of those around him.

He sighs, but he still looks hard. "I do not wish to fight you. I mean you no harm, and there is no reason for us to be at each others throats." He continues softly and reasnobly. "Rather, I would call you friend I would know you and your people, as you would know me and mine, and the two of us would live in harmony, neither trying to conquer or harm the other, and I would preserve a seed of your people in the dark season to come as I do the same for mine. I have great hope for you. Will you work alongside me?"

[horngeek]

Mat shrugs. "I was planning to come visit you, I was just waiting for someone and managed to get myself into a barfight. Then, your man saw my spear, and thought I was imitating a Deathwatch guard. And one of the men I was gambling with wanted to fight soldiers for some reason..."

Mat sighs. "Bloody madman. So, I got myself accused of treason."

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

Lawrence frowns, "You don't really have to do that. It was no trouble to give you a ride into Town. I wouldn't want to force you into something like this."

"Lawrence, for such a smart man you know so little. Auron is a guardian, he is bound to us until he believes us to be truly safe or we finish our journey by ancient traditions of honour. He couldn't leave us even if he wanted to. Holo explains.

"I know all that it's just that. You are never going to be truly safe as long as the Church is hunting for you and we're traveling merchants. Our journey by it's very nature does not have an end. I don't like exploiting good men like this."

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"Amazing."

He wasn't aware that he had spoken until the words left his mouth. But there wasn't much going back at the moment. Smoothly untying the weave that kept him invisible, Rand shimmered back into existence, and slightly inclined his head to the two other powerful figures. Slightly.

"But..." He speaks softly, but his words carry far, as if the world was waiting to hear them. In a very real sense, they were. "...they all presuppose that we have a world to enjoy these gifts in. I greet you, Lord Murtagh. I greet you, Lord Octavian. I am Rand Al'Thor."

He gives no other title, no other honors. Murtagh, at the very least, knows who he is.

The General, the Paladin, and the Fiend

Allecia gasps at the imagery, and clutches her head.

"We aren't prepared for this. We are not prepared for this. I mean, this is what my husband does, not us. I mean, we're talking a continent-wide war, and even worse. I mean, this is, this is, this is..."

Pellew slaps her. Hard.

"What? Too big? Need I remind you, Quorell, that I am still a hero? That your husband, great as he is, is not the only one in Tamriel who has accomplished great deeds? Now get your head on straight, and let's start heading out. If we're going to get caught up in the middle of a war, then whichever direction we head is going to be the right one."

Cleon pulls Pellew to the side for a moment.

"Don't you ever hit her again."

"Listen, Butcher of Armindale. You know as well as I do that panic, among the ranks, or the officers, is never a good thing. Discipline yourself, use that mind of yours, and let's be on our way."

"...I mean it. You could have been gentler with her."

"I could have. But I don't know what you see when you look at her. I see a Fiend working against her nature, and that nature is going to be resisting her every step of the way. So if I'm harsh with her, it's because I'm helping her."

They finish loading the wagons, and are out of the city within the hour.

"Thank you, Pellew," Allecia remarks as they exit the gates. "But if you hit me again, I won't hesitate to reduce you to ash."

"So long as we're honest with each other, Ehothorn. So long as we're honest with each other."

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander gets Agro to position him behind the creature. Suddenly, he fires two arrows at the back of the Colossus' head. However, at the same time, Agro gallops around to the front of the creature, Wander sizing up the Colossus for any crevices that he can grab onto on his way to the rune.

[AnimeKid]

Auron

"It is no trouble at all really, and besides I sense a storm coming. Many stories are coming to thier climax, and when that happens many stories will become one. When the resolution comes the stories will seperate once again. Only their will be significantly fewer, I can feel it in my bones. I don't want your stories to one of the ones that end."

[Colesign]

Tavi

The Aleran contingent, to a man (and Marat) draw blades, some of them searing with white-hot heat.

"Stop!" Tavi says, standing up suddenly. "My apologies, Rand Al'Thor: our nation has been fighting the enemy for too long: even now, after the last war, our reflexes are on edge."

He does the classic Chest-Fist Salute. "Hail and Well met. And nice veil, by the way."

{Tavi thinks Rand is referring to the Vord:smallbiggrin:}

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"Hail and well-met, Lord Octavian. And believe me," Rand remarks. "when I say that whatever battles you have faced, whatever foes you have defeated, they are nothing compared for what is to come. Tarmon Gai'don approaches. The Dark One will be released. And we will break the world attempting to save it, or the He will break the Pattern and remake it in his own image."

Rand is speaking seriously, but there is an odd tone in his voice. As if he was discussing the weather. He was used to it; he knew about the Last Battle, and its emergence. He had read the Prophecies of the Dragon, and could interpret them well enough.

[Executor]

Gratefully, the Myrmidons thanked Meric in turn as they filed past him into the bare and spartan tavern that he had led them too. Indeed, the interior of the inn would not have been out of place in harsh and barren Sparta. The floor and walls were unadorned stone, a simple fireplace held a warm fire at one end of the room, and four long wooden tables held most of the guests, who sat eating simple meals. Simplicity and sparseness seemed to be the defining features of Kuasta.

"Thank you Meric, here's something for your trouble" Patroclus said, handing the soldier a few heavy silver coins, stamped with the owl of Athena on one side and an image of Agamemnon's head in profile on the other. Achilles, presumptuous as usual, had simply gone into the inn without even thanking the man. It was a good thing that Achilles and Patroclus were friends, for the friendly Patroclus could often cover for Achilles' social faux pas.

Within the inn, the men pooled what silver and gold they had on them to buy a set of five rooms, ten men to a room. Crowded quarters, but better than sleeping on the cold ground in the open air. Having dined sparselessly on roasted pork and water, the Myrmidons retired to their rooms and made about the business of getting settled in for the night. Having refused a bed and instead given it to one of his men, Achilles hugged his spear to his chest as he sat in the corner of his room, wrapped in a heavy fur blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly, the weariness of a long day overcoming him.

After what seemed like an entirely too short rest, they awoke with a start to a pounding on the door.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Then you know the danger: you know that we need alliances to fight against the...wait, what Dark One?" Tavi says with a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. That ain't good, that ain't good...

"You aren't talking about the Vord, are you?"

"Not the Vord?" Max suddenly blurts out, introducing his face to his palm. "Bloody Crows..."

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

He raises an eyebrow at the man's expletive. Some things, it seemed, remained fairly constant no matter the society one lived in.

"I'm afraid I have no idea as to who the Vord are. And unless they will be attacking within the month, they will shortly be of little consequence. Yes...about a month. A little less than a month, at the most."

The end of the world in less than a month...at most. What was Alera getting itself into?

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
They look around the deserted city of Caraval and see the desolation.
"Nobody has graced this city in ages, I would say. Nature is already reclaiming it's child."
"Too bad. It looked like a fine city. One can only wonder what happened to make the lads move out..."
"We shouldn't spend too much time on this city. We need to find civilization soon so we can restock and get directions."
"Right. No sense dwelling on the past."
And with that the two stop for a bit to eat and drink before heading off past the city towards the East.

Tanis
He notices Tasslehoff's absence from his side and curses under his breath.
"Son of a Kender, where has he gone off to this time?"
And he sneaks around the halls they've passed, attempting to find his lost companion.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine calls Lan over, intrigued.
What could Elves have to do with Him? And a crown of leave?
She studies the texts further, trying to understand the information.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
As the man leaves, Mumm-Ra's war general, Rataro, steps out of the shadows.
Are you really planning to go along with this?

Mumm-Ra cackles.
Of course I am. It is an excellent oppurtunity.
He steps over to the bubbling pool.
Now let us see what events are taking place in the world.
Images appear in the pool. Images of many people, from the awakening Earth King, to the lost Lord of the Myrmidons. The images change to others, and continue to do so.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Well...a month trumps a century. Perhaps you should tell us more about this 'Dark One'."

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

Holo nods sagely, if it were not for her munching on an apple it would make her seem as wise as her title suggests. "Things are changing and not all for the better.

Lawrence shakes his head. "If things get too bad we are dropping this job. I'd like to keep my story as long and uneventful as possible."

***

Zasamal

Upon arriving he returns to the Varden base. To check in on his pawn, his failures in Urbaruen not forgotten.

[Draxx]

Queen Sonja
The queen sits on her throne, fingers tapping the armrests. It seems impossible that someone wearing that little clothing could appear to be regal, but she manages it. He hair falls to her hips in curling tresses of red, not the burnished copper but the red of spilled blood. Her full lips are pursed, her green eyes are narrowed, and she manages to give off an air of frustration.

Sonja is not patient. A woman of action, she deplores the wasting time of enduring the wait for her army to assemble.

Her commanders line up before her. She loses none of her sternness, she simply stands up and glowers. "We are going to war." She declares. "Not for D'Hara, I have no love for them and they have no love for me. We stand for ourselves, not them. And we are going to win."

Her tone does not allow the possibility of any other possibility.

Cohen
The elderly barbarian fought as you'd expect someone his age to fight. Slowly, carefully, and patiently. Yet it was clear he was carrying the fight. He was never where they wanted him o be, always managing to avoid their blows with the grim gate of arthritis and get his blade under their defenses with little or no trouble. Hard as it was to credit, he was winning.

He also fought dirty. Bony hands, knees and elbows lashed when he didn't have room to use his sword, and sent them staggering away or collapsing in their own private ball of agony.

Druss the Legend
There was a commotion ahead as Druss made his way to the gatehouse.

Druss walks over to a young man, more of a boy, and notes his face was pale beneath grime, and his eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. and puts a big, calloused hand on his shoulder, amiably.

"This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, laddie." He observes quietly.

"I'm not really a soldier..."

Druss grunted. "You looked a soldier on the wall the other day. Knocked down two ladders and gutted three men, then fought you way back to the guard house."

"You saw that?" He says, shocked and startled, a touch of pride worming it's way into his voice, knowing he had been seen by a living legend.

"Aye, I saw it. And they won't forget it either, you can count on that."

"They just... they just keep on coming."

Druss looked over the wall at the siege engines, closed his eyes, knowing that things would get much worse before they got better, then, with much deliberation, spat over the wall.

"'Course they do. They're animals. It's all they know how to do." He says, something dark and bitter crossing his face, gone in an instant. "When a man goes bad, he's like a wild dog. He needs to be put down, or stopped, there isn't a choice anymore. And these people are like that. They're not men, they're wolves on two legs. Locusts. They'll kill this country, pick it's corpse bare, then go elsewhere, and this will repeat itself."

He pushed the man roughly to the wall, and against the battlements, forcing hm to stare in the direction of the enemy camp. "What do you see?"

The man quaked. "So many... More then can be..."

"More then can be counted, aye. Every single one of those beasts is sitting out there in the mist, knees deep in the muck and cursing your name, loud enough that the elves in the forest on the other end of the continent can hear. And why? Because they want nothing more then to tear down these walls and and slaughter everything they can reach, but you will not let them!" As though unaware he'd attracted an audience, he powers on, drawing men to him irresistibly to listen, and as they heard they stood a little taller, held their weapons a little tighter. The man who was the subject stared at the warrior in shock.

"They outnumber us by some terrible fraction, they've taken cities, burned towns and driven everyone before them, and here you are, standing on the wall between them and the one thing they desire. Between them and your homes, your families and your lives. They rise from their stinking tents every day, and work themselves into a frenzy nothing on earth can stand against - and every day they slink back into those tents with their tails between their legs. The very thought of you burns them like a coal in their guts."

He stares at them "A man is at the mercy of nature. At the mercy of other men. At the mercy of life, and time, and in the end, one day he will die. But until that point, he is alive! And as long as there is breath in his body, he does not give up. No matter the adversity, he tightens his belt and rebuilds. Nature can take his health, his land, his work and his life, but it can't take from him his soul. And as long as he keeps on going, he is unbeatable. A man stands for what he believes in, and he never lets anybody rule him or his conscience. These men seek to take from you all you have achieved. Will you let them, or will you be men?"

Druss knew it was a lie. Every man had their breaking point, sooner or later, and courage had limits. Courage. Ha! If they had courage, they'd be farmers. He'd buried better men then him over the years, and knew that merely bravery and right on your side was not enough to win. Just the same, they needed the encouragement, and it was a good lie. A better one then the sad reality.

"Will you stand, soldier?"

[Cracklord]

Mattrim
"Yes, I heard. It looks like you're a victim of circumstance again." She's still smiling and enjoying your discomfort. She does that.
"Well, I suppose I better send you on your way. Come and visit me again before you leave, I have a kingdom to show off now and I'd love you to see it."
Then she pauses, and you can see it was always her intention to bring the conversation to this point. "Although I have to ask what brings you here. I am told that was still rages on the continent, and I cannot think how the Dragon can do without you."

Rand Al'Thor, Tavi
Murtagh starts, then holds out a hand. "It is quite an unexpected pleasure to meet the Dragon reborn." He says, his careful control dissipating slightly, demonstrating his uncertainty, then is silent at the exchange, his pale face going ashen his eyes sinking.
"Has it really come to that already?" He stares at Tavi, confused at how somebody could not know that. "He stands against the creator. He desires only to destroy, to unmake, to tear apart the world and in it, and rebuild it in his image or leave it ashes."

Druss the Legend
He swallows, then looks into your hard eyes, and nods. "I will sir."
There is a cheer, as men yell and bash their weapons on the stonework. It was everything a cheer should be, brazen and defiant, and confident, and you know these men will stand now, no matter what is thrown at them. You've done some good here.

Gengiz Cohen
The brawl has smashed most of the furniture in the bar, and the mob relents, drawing back and giving you some breathing room. A dozen or so men do not, too injured, or pretending to be that way and hoping you won't notice them.

Queen Sonja
Nemedia is a small nation, more of a city state then a country, and while it maintains a powerful army it is well and truly out of it's league in open warfare with the Imperial Order.
One of your generals, Kalmbach, steps forward. He's massive, mail barely covers his mighty thews and formidable muscles, and favors a long, flowing mustache in the fashion of the hill tribes. Like most of the warriors, he adores you, and like most he is disappointed in his advances.
"My queen, the Imperial Order is said to outnumber the sands on the shore. We would be destroyed."

Zasamal
Eragon had cleared a space in his room in the castle, and was now using it to practice the third level of Rimgar. The contortions of his body helped him focus his mind, as well as giving him something to keep occupied with. Boredom was beginning to take a toll on him, and he felt the need to move in some way. The constant monotony of the last week and a half was beginning to crush his spirit.
Since finding Saphira's egg, Eragon had known little peace. Periods of relative calm, such as his time in Du Weldevarden, were spent bettering himself and training, learning who he was and what he was capable of. The rest of his time had been spent either running from the Empire, traveling or fighting. Even then, his time had been filled by the minute.
Now, there was nothing expected of him, but that he remained here, demoted to symbol. The Varden needed his presence, but they didn't need him.
At first he had spent the time with Saphira, but gradually the Varden began to put demands on both of them that drew them apart. Eragon disliked the tasks he was set, mostly just appearing in minor negotiations and agreements with Lady Lorona and assorted nobles and authorities who run the city. They had discussed everything from providing lodgings and supplies for the Varden as they recuperated, to the changes in policy and administration now that it was a conquered city.
Initially Eragon was fascinated, in observing the victory of the Varden over the kings tyranny, and felt a sense of history and grave responsibility at each of these meetings. However, reality soon crushed these delusions, and he found that most of the meetings were negotiations and minor quibbling. He himself wasn't even called on to do much, simply to stand there and look impressive. And he had more important things to do then cater to their whims. He only endured it because it gave him an excuse to see Arya. In truth, it was beginning to remind him of the negotiations he'd endured in Tronjheim, when the dwarves had been electing their king.
Saphira herself was doing much worse. She did not like remaining static, and she had grown accustomed to a life of travel. The lack of a release for her pent up energy made her snappish and irritable. Eragon privately suspected, though made sure not to voice it through their bond, that this was also due to the reception she had received. Far from the deference and respect given to her by the elves, many of the people here treated her as little more then an exotic pet.
She had terrified a minor functionary half to death when he had led her towards the stables, and would most likely of finished the job if not restrained by Blödhgarm when he had suggested muzzling her. Since then she'd whiled away her time hunting and sleeping in the wild a few miles from the city, growing more irritable with each passing day. Eragon had tried to make time to visit her, but there simply weren't enough hours in the day, and while what he was doing didn't seem very important, it took up a lot of time. The separation was all the more noticeable in that for her to live so she had to remain just outside the range of their bond. Both of them were suffering.
A knock at his door shattered his concentration. Midway in the fourth stance, he almost lost his balance and collapsed. Righting himself he replaced his clothing and stretched, but made no further movements. If it was important, whoever it was would come the rest of the way to him.
The knocking did not relent. After a minute of the interminable pounding, Eragon gave an exasperated sigh and pushed the door open.

Moraine & Lan
References grow few. The elves is your only real lead, which you had best pray is enough. You have a month to find him. Only a month.

Tanis
You catch a glimpse of him, up the corridor pearing through a crack in the door.

Gaborn, Link
The elf stares at you, his lips twisting in a grimace of mad rage. "How... dare you?" He shudders, his muscles tensing, and he shakes. His eyes flash. "You, a human, think you can tell one of the arisen the will of nature. You who rape the land, who tear down all that is green and good and destroy all in your path. You think you can tell me that?"

Smaug
You are awoken. Your treasure is undisturbed, your empire as it was but for the erosion of unforgiving time. A man in black with white hair stands before you, and carries with him an authority that makes you stagger. "Awake." He says in a soft, crooning voice. "Awake, great beast of the dark earth. You have been forgotten, the world has moved on and, your splendor humbled. And yet, the world has need of dragons, and so I ask you, to once more dream of fire."

Lord Angmar
You awake, as do the other eight. The call has gone out, the darkness stirs again, and once more you ride at the wings of the shadow, and smother the land in darkness. The Dark One stirs.
And you, his servants, must act at his call.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"You seem restless child. That will not do." Zasmal says letting himself into the young dragon rider's room. In truth Eragon's restlessness served Zasamal quite well it meant he would more likely to be caught unprepared to handle the Empire and forced to open the vault.

"Tell me what has worn you so thin."

[Draxx]

Druss
"Good lad. Now hold fast, they'll attack any moment."

Sonja
"We will not fight them directly, or engage them in fair battle. We will bloody them, draw them and make them suffer until they barely can go on. We will strike in the night and be gone by dawn, and we will sap their strength until they are unable to go on. Then I will take this emperor's head, and set it on a pike at my throne." She promises darkly, folding her arms beneath the splendid swell of her bosom beneath the pliant mail.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine sighs.
And where are we going to find elves?

[InyutheBeatIs]

Smaug

The man calls him out of a dream of his younger days. The days when he flew in the skies and rained terror upon the mortals. The days when he was without peer. The days where he saw his hoard grow beyond measure, the days when he first discovered the Arkenstone and added it to his collection. The days when everyone knew the name of Smaug the Magnificant, Smaug the Golden, Smaug the Destroyer.

Now, he has been asleep for far too long. He is awakened by this strange man. The first sign of life is an eye, his eyelids thrown open to reveal a globe of power, pride, and intellect staring straight at the man. Soon, the massive Fire-Drake moves, his powerful neck raised as he analyzes this new encounter. The man can probably feel Smaug's powerful gaze roaming, searching, picking apart even. Then, Smaug straightens and stands on his hoard, revealing himself in all of his glory as he stretches himself. Golden-red scales glisten on his body, muscles not atrophied a day in his sleep. He holds himself with pride, the pride of one of the greatest dragons of his time. His bat-like wings stretch out, and his battering-ram of a tail flicks in the air. Perhaps most interestingly, an apparently flawless breastplate of gemstones has embedded itself into his underbelly, eliminating the one weakness that has been the bane of most of his kind.

Smaug then lays back down into his bed of riches, looking almost like some kind of regal noble, as he looks at the man who woke him. He is intrigued that such a man is here. The way he holds himself implies he is some kind of king, or emperor. But still...this man certainly holds more authority than that. Whoever he is, this man has power.

Smaug's voice rumbles through the room. A voice of intrigue, curiosity, and forboding. "And who do I have to thank for waking me, dear friend?"

[Cracklord]

Legolas and Gimli
The town has been destroyed. Tools have been broken, houses have been torn apart, and crops have been sowed with salt. Bodies have been left by the side of the road to rot and fester, and anything of use, from furniture, to barrels, to animals have been either carried off or rendered equally unusable.
This town was not destroyed, but completely unmade beyond recovery.

Wander
As you leap, you catch a crack and manage to painfully pull yourself up, to grab a place where two stones meet. And then, disaster. The thing shifts, and your hand gets wedged between two rocks, which grind painfully, crushing the bones and breaking three fingers. Your hand is mutilated, almost beyond use, and you are trapped in place, dangling from your fingertips from the collosus.

Moraine & Lan
You need maps.

Zsasamael
"This… All this." Eragon said, making a broad gesture that seemed to encompass the last year of his life. "It's not right. I never wanted to spend my life resisting the Empire, but as events continued I got swept up in it, and now I can't stop." He sighed, a wave of negative feeling rolling of him.
"It's just…" Eragon began again, a complicated feeling he found it hard to articulate welling up in his chest, "I remember, before I joined the Varden, Murtagh killed a man, a slaver who wasn't fighting back, and I repudiated him for it." Eraagon said, realizing with a start he didn't even remember the slaver's name. It bothered him more then he cared to admit. "Now I've done the same thing. Sometimes there were even other options, but I just took the simplest way. And I hate it, I hate the fact I don't emphasize with ordinary people anymore. And I hate them for not understanding. I resent them for not understanding my sacrifices or what I do for them."
He sighs. "I am a Rider. I have been singled out of all humanity by Saphira, the last free dragon. Endowed with power beyond any mortal, and the responsibility of safe-guarding the entire world. I am stronger, tougher, more intelligent and wiser then any human can be, or will ever be. I can know a man's thoughts with a glance, and I know what they think of me, what they don't dare say to my face. I can summon powers they could not even understand, even the greatest sickness can be cured with a word, and yet they have the presumption to make demands of me, to force me to endure their ceaseless prattle. If I was to punch a wall, it would be damaged, not I, and yet they plot against me. Men are slaves to society, to culture, their lords, their destiny. I am not, servant only to the duties I choose to take on myself. It is not my place to follow rules or conduct, I decide for myself what is right and wrong.
And yet they make demands of me, try to coerce me into following their instructions, and into overseeing their short-sighted goals. Both as a rider, and by virtue of my blood I am far more then them, and yet they try to force me to their arbitrary moral codes. I am directly descended from the first King of this country! I am better then those of a lesser station, and it is my privilege and burden to act as I see fit!"

Smaug
"Call me... Galbatorix will do. It's a good name between us." He says, inclining his head. You see something dance in his eyes, something much like what you yourself feel, pride and fierce joy, and something terrible lurking beneath the surface. He's not just a human, though he has the shape of one.
"And I awoke you because I long to soar the skies and rain fire, to live again, rather then be trapped in a gilded cage. I awoke you because I do not desire to live in a world without dragons. And I awoke you because I wanted to. What more reason is there?"

Red Sonja
"As you command, my queen." He replies, clapping his arm to his chest, and remaining in place, knowing better then to disagree with you.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"That's bad." Tavi says, and turns to his friends. "Don't you think that's bad?"

"Pretty bad, Aleran." Kitai agrees.

"Crowbegottenly bad." Max adds.

"Extremely bad." Isana supplements.

"*Grunt*." Araris remarks.

"*Grrr*." Ambassador Varg contributes.

Tavi turns back to his allies. "In the interest of continuing to exist, I think we can help each other out, Rand Al'Thor. So how do we stop this 'Dark One' anyway?"

[Executor]

((No love for Achilles? Oh, and I didn't post this in the OOC thread because I didn't want to double post))

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
(Then this calls for different action from my favorite two heroes!)

"This... this is not good. Who would do this to a town?"
"The stench of Blood lies thick in this area. 'Tis a cursed village. It reminds me of the Paths of the Dead. Evil like this shouldn't be allowed to survive!"
"Calm down, Gimli. We've no idea who did this to these people. Although I would like to find out. I feel we were called here to stop this person."
"I feel the same, elf. Now let us get out of this cursed town before my beard stinks of this place."
And then they run out of the town to the East, looking for a good spot to rest. Far, far away from the death and desolation of the village behind them.

[Cracklord]

Gimli and Legolas
Felix sighed. His companion marched on ahead through the ruins of the town, stomping his bare feet on the stones as though he hated every one of them. Felix, his long suffering companion, trudged after him.
Long ago, he had been saved by the Dwarf, taken from beneath the hooves of the Emperor's cavalry, and, after getting fiercely drunk, had asked Gotrek his story. Felix had grown excited, and, as an aspiring poet, promised to follow the dwarf and record his death. That had been ten years ago, and Gotrek was still alive despite some heroic efforts to find something to do the job and finish him off. Felix was starting to believe that nothing could.
Gotrek turned and Felix sighed again. It wasn't the mowhawk dyed and held up by pig fat, the blunt features, the cauliflower ear, the broken teeth, the missing eye or the scars that made the dwarf so utterly repulsive. It was the combination of them all. Were he to have imagined the sort of friend he would have, he'd never have pictured Gotrek as one of them. And yet here they both were, and in a real way he was closer to the dwarf then he'd been to anyone, even his lovers.
"Wake up, manling. Someone is coming."
Felix was instantly alert, his posture tensing, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. He counted himself an excellent swordsman, though he was frequently outclassed by the manner of beasties the two encountered. Just the same, he had learned that when war came there was rarely a safer place to be then behind his companions axe.

Achiles
Four figures sat in the bar, playing Tonk. One was short, dark, wizened and shrunken, with a long black beard that stuck out in odd directions like twisted wire, and a face that seemed almost childishly vindictive. A leather patch covered one eye, and he'd gotten bald a long time ago. He was cheating as much as possible, badly, and still managing to lose almost every hand.
Another was just as shrunken and just as wrinkled, with a face that wasn't ugly, but didn't seem exactly human either, with a sloping brow, over developed jaw and deceptively brutish appearance. He played another hand, then smiles in a satisfied way like a cat that's got the cream when his companion starts swearing at it. Multi-colored flies buzz out of one nostril, spelling out the words 'One-Eye is a poof!"
He's not, if you were wondering. One-Eye is totally heterosexual, but the two never let up their bickering for a moment. You get used to it.
One-Eye snarled back and began waving his arms and howling, and birds appeared around Goblin's head, where they let out purple, diseased droppings. Goblin waved his arms, and the two witch doctors were at it again.
I sighed and put down my cards. So much for that. And I had a good hand too.
Raven moved over to me as their brawl continued. "See those men who came in before?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Look like soldiers. Real hard men. Why?"
Raven scoffed at that. I ignored it. Not everyone could be him. "We could do with fifty extra men."
"Don't look like they take orders to well. The tall one at the front has an attitude if I ever saw one, and the others aren't much better. We don't do charity cases." I nodded to him. "Present company excepted, of course."
He ignored the jibe, watching after them, then shrugged. "I figure I should ask them anyway. Should give me something to do until these two cool down."
With that he gets up, and walks to their room, where he pounds on the door a few times.

Tavi, Rand
He sits down, his manner returned and all the stronger for it. "He cannot be. You coan no more stop him then you can stop the turning of the seasons or the waves of the ocean. All you can do is resist, and set him back." He stares at Rand. "It is his destiny to seal him away, if he can, though perhaps he will fail and the world will end. Valar Morghulis, Valar Dohaeris."
The ancient words are chilling even in the pleasant air, and sound like a death knell, like some final nail driven in a coffin. Tavi has never heard the tongue, but Rand has. And those are words of power. Not magic, though they do have a magic of their own, but a different sort of power, and one infinitely more terrible. All men must die, all men must serve.
"This is too important to wait. I must tell my King." He stands up, kisses Min's hand in an old fashioned, courtly gesture, then walks to the door.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"Why do you let them control you then?" Zasamal asks.

"Why have you not subject them to your rule? Why have you not taken the Varden as your personal army to do as you please as is your right?" Zasamal leads Eragon into the streets of town as he lectures the boy to show him the common people he does not feel connected to up close.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"So you're the only one who can seal him away. How can we help you with that?" Tavi asks Rand.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander screams in pain as his fingers are crushed. This is bad. After hanging from his fingers for a while, he tries to find a hold to help him lift himself up. Now the situation was getting desperate. He can only hope that it gets less desperate soon.

At the same time, he tries to grit through the pain and try to get close to the rune. At least as close to it as possible, given the situation.


Smaug

A smirk tugs at the corner of Smaug's mouth as he sees what is in "Galbatorix's" eyes. "Well now, 'Galbatorix', I do not see how I can help you, other than my existance."

He then looks to the sides, before looking dead into the eyes of this man. "Tell me, how long have I been asleep?"

[doliest]

Tass
Tass slittered in and out of view, trying to figure out where he could find something to that he and Tanis could wear. He was moving quickly and as quitely as possible, hoping to be ignored.

Kitaria
She smiles as she slides onto Skie's back. She liked riding Skie, through the air. It was...uplifting, in it's own way. Not to mention she enjoyed looking down at the ants below.

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
The slow to a halt as they approach the first living things they've seen in their entire time spent in this backwards country.
Gimli shudders at the horrid appearance of his fellow Dwarf. Must be some hill dwarf or something of that sort. Mountain dwarves were much better kept in fashion and in appearance.
"Good day to you gentlemen! Have you any idea what country this is? We seem to have lost our way a bit back beyond the spiked mountain pass."
"Best be on guard, elf. They might be foe. The scrawny one is going for his sword."
"I thought as much. If anything happens I'm sure to be ready."
They stand at attention, ready to attack if the other side so much as moves their weapons towards the ready position.

[Cracklord]

Gotrek and Felix
Felix sighed. He could already see where this was going. Just the same, he takes his hand from his sword and does his best to seem nonthreatening.
In almost every world, dwarves and elves hold each other in contempt. The Old World is one of the worst examples of this. In ages past, hey actually went to war, and the elves were driven from the land by axe and by fire.
They still don't get on, to say the least.
Gotrek is a Slayer, a dwarf who has committed some great shame, so shaves their head and vows to seek their death and die in battle to expunge the shame. Explaining the dwarfs barbaric appearance, at least.
Gotrek took his massive runeaxe and ran his thumb along the blade until a bright bead of blood came, which he flicked at the two.
"Elf." He says menacingly, starting forward.

Tasselhoff, Tanis
You manage to creep away unnoticed, and are back in the corridor.

Smaug
"I do not know, I regret to tell you. But the shape of the world has changed, the continents have moved and the world has moved on. You will find it unfamiliar, but to your liking I expect."

Wander
The two rocks part for long enough for you to slip your damaged hand out before they crash together again. You are still, however, dangling from midway up it's torso, with only one hand to grip on.

Zasamal
"My burdens are enough already. greater then theirs, and less. But I will suffer their impudence no longer." He declares, nodding as though he'd reasoned this decision out through cold, hard logic. "Do you agree?"

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"You plan to leave?" Zasamal asks this did not sound good there were very few paths that this train of thought would take the boy that could lead to Zasamal's endgame it is time for some quick thinking.

[Draxx]

Sonja
"Good. We will speak of this again soon. For now, assemble our forces. You have two days."

Conan The Barbarian
Three tables down from the company to the right sat a man whose broad shoulders and sun browned skin seemed out of place in the luxurious surroundings. He seemed more a part of the mountains and hills of the world then anything that belonged here. His slightest movement spoke of steel-spring muscles knit to the keen intellect of a born swordsman. There was nothing deliberate or measured about his actions, either he was at rest, in which he was still as a statue, or he was in motion, with the slow deliberate movements of a lion stalking prey.

His garments were simple, well-cut cotton and a wool undershirt, both undyed. He wore no ring or ornaments, and his black square-cut mane was wild and untamed. He was not eating, but resting his chin on his fist, surveying the room with his smoldering blue eyes, like an ancient god passing judgment.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"I come here to unite the kingdoms of this land, at least until the Last Battle. For the more we are divided, the more we slaughter each other, the fewer will stand against the True Enemy."

The General, the Paladin, and the Fiend

They had chosen a direction at random, but kept to the established roads. Both Pellew and Cleon took turns driving the wagon, neither of them trusting Allecia with the reins. They didn't know if her nature would spook the horses. It wouldn't, but she wasn't going to tell them.

It's a petty little thing. I am not a bad person because of it.

Besides. She was reading a fascinating history text. Taken, apparently, from the ruins of the library of Jyggalag himself. It, along with a single other volume, was all that remained of that place; it had been destroyed by Sheogorath's forces, with the Madgod himself at their head.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Well, we in Alera are united, if for no other reason than to repel the Vord when they return in a century." Tavi says.

He begins looking for some sort of map in the chamber, some reference point.

"So how many wars and rivalries are going on here in this land?"

[Executor]

Achilles

Sharp blue eyes opened at the knocking on the door. Achilles stared at the door as the knocking came again. All around him, the Myrmidons were beginning to stir. Suspicious, Achilles seized his xiphos and stood up. The xiphos was not an elegant weapon, it was a heavy, leaf-shaped, bronze butcher's blade, about two feet long, wrought of sharp bronze. The leaf shape made equally suited to the cut or the thrust, but the blade was heavy enough that a blow from the flat could do horrible things to a man's bones. With this terrible weapon in hand, Achilles came up to the door and slowly turned the handle.

Achilles threw the door open to find a man he didn't recognize standing there, arm raised as if he was about to knock again. Holding the xiphos up to the man's chest, Achilles narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
"For a time. A month perhaps. I have things to finish that I cannot afford to leave undone. You have proven a fine teacher, and a good friend. Fear not, I will return. Watch over them while I am gone."

Tavi
Murtagh shakes his head. "Unification will not be possible, I regret to tell you. You are looking at a nest of snakes. The Empire will support you, out of self interest if nothing else, but the rebels will not, if they haven't already taken The Dark Ones Salt I imagine they will soon. Then to the East another war is brewing, one that makes what happens here seem like quarreling children."

Achilles
Raven does not back down. The second his sees your sword, a knife appears in his hand as though summoned by magic, and his eyes harden. He looks like a career soldier, a man who lived on campaign and never allowed himself to get soft. Men like that were dangerous.
"Put that down unless you intend use it. And if you try I'll put you down. I'm here to talk." He doesn't lower the knife.
"But if you'd rather fight..."

Conan
Croaker sits down across the table across from you. He's forty, plain featured, and hard looking, with a white, haggard face that was rough with beard-stubble. A filthy cloak hung from his shoulders, a hood shadowed his face that looked as if it had been chiseled from obdurate stone by some savage god, and his eyes were sunken.
"Buy you a drink?" He asks in a surprisingly smooth and measured voice.

Traveling Bar Joke
The countryside is positively idyllic, beautiful rolling hills, farmland and clear skies, so that in lulls you into comfort, and makes thoughts of war all but impossible. It's too relaxed, too calm, too peaceful.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine and Lan
Maps shouldn't be too hard to find. They are in a library afterall. Her and Lan search everywhere, including every corner and crevice for maps.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
Rataro watches Mumm-Ra as the mummy king peers into the cauldron.
So what will you do now?

Mumm-Ra turns from the pool.
I will rest, and plan.
He steps into his sarcophagus and it shuts.

[Draxx]

Cohen
"Done already? You young 'uns have no stamina. Well, I'll be tuning me back now and hobbling out. Any of you want to get brave, do it now while I'm in a good mood. So we keep things friendly like."

He looks around, and when nobody else tries to make a point he sneers, turn and swaggers out of the room, replacing his sword as he does so. When he gets out, he heads for the stables, steals a horse and goes.

Conan
The Chimmerian stares steadily at the figure for a long moment, taking in every detail, the give a nod. "You're paying." He says in his deep voice, his face betraying not the slightest flicker of emotion.

Sonja
The queen carefully goes over every detail she knows or has heard about the New World Order, to prepare herself.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Never say 'not possible'." Tavi remarks. "You'd be surprised at how often the most bitter of enemies can turn into...well, honorable enemies you can ally with."

He inclines his head to Ambassador Varg. "But anyways: what's the other war, the one that makes yours look like peanuts?"

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

They rest up for the night and prepare to see the agent about the goods in the morning.

***

Zasamal

"Where do you plan on going?" Zasamal asks idly trying to nip this in the bud.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"I rather doubt that your enemies are entirely sworn to the Dark One. Perhaps a leader or two, but no more. Nevertheless, I will need to go to them as well."

Gradient

"It's too peaceful. Smells like a trap. An ambush." Pellew had years of instinct in the field backing him up.

"If it's an ambush or a trap, its an incompetent one. Nobody save a fool would fall for it. Therefore, we have nothing to fear, for any force that attempts to attack us must be disorganized and therefore easy to obtain the upper hand of." Cleon provided a more rational point of view.

"Here's an idea. It's late, some of us need to sleep, and we can simply take watches throughout the night. I'll leave the two of you to divide them up."

Allecia nods off to sleep. She still isn't used to traveling outdoors. Cleon and Pellew both stare at each other, neither trusting the other.

"I'll take first watch," the General mutters. "I, unlike the two of you, am actually human, and as such need to sleep. Getting it all in one block is the better way."

[Executor]

Achilles

The Slayer of Men raised an eyebrow at the claim that his man with his knife would "put him down". It was a claim that he had heard from hundreds of champions and heroes of dozens of nations. None had succeeded.

"You would put me down?" he said, with a tone half incredulous and half amused.

"A great many have tried, they have not found it so easy." he said, smiling wickedly now. Despite that, he withdrew his blade, tossing it up into the air and then grabbing it by the handle so that the blade was reversed in his hand, and then holding it down at his side.

"It is too early in the day for bloodshed. Speak, then" Achilles finished.

[Cracklord]

Moraine and Lan
It takes a little effort, searching through musty books, cracked pages and forgotten documents, but at last you find a detailed map. Du Weldenvarden is on the other side of the continent.

Sonja
The Order taught that mankind was evil and full of selfish desires. Further, they teach that it was the duty of all to bend to the will of others in need. People are promised a better world after death and that their current life was worthless.
The Imperial Order despised magic and those who are gifted with it, wishing to end it all together, and in the same way wish to end the influence of the gods, leaving the world to nobody but man.

Conan
Croaker nods, and does so, in coins of a demonition you've never seen before, and you've been almost everywhere. He's got the build of an archer, sinewy rather then muscular, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.
He sits down and sip his drink with the air of someone who doesn't want to lose his wits until he has to.
"No sense wasting time. Got a job offer. Interested?"

Cohen
They have learned their lesson. They don't pursue you. You're free to do as you want.

Tavi, Rand Al'Thor
"In nothing is the power of the Dark Lord more clearly shown than in the estrangement that divides all those who still oppose him." Says an old man, as he opens the door and steps in. "But a man does not have to be his servant to work evil, when their own hearts are black."
His hair was white, and his long white beard grew down below his waist. His eyebrows were thick and bushy, his nose was hooked like a beak and his eyes danced beyond, suggesting he knew things nobody else did.
He dressed in a long gray cloak, wearing a tall shady-brimmed pointed blue hat, a silver scarf, and long black boots. He carried a staff, topped with a tiny crystal.
Min starts when she sees him, gaping for a moment, and Murtagh blinks, however his reaction is not as it was when he saw Rand arrive.

Zasamal
"East. I have read the works of Jagang the Just and Narev, and wish to learn more of their philosophy. I think I could learn a lot from them. Oromis said I must master philosophy if I am to master battle."

Holo and Lawrence and Auron
The sun rises. Dawn has come.

Achilles
Raven only smiles. He's no idea quite what Achillies is capable of, and if he was he'd be a little less confident. But only a little, while he's only an ordinary human he doesn't let demigods push him around any more then he lets anything else. Normally this would give him a very short life expectancy, but he is an exception, as much due to luck as the fact he's a hard case.
"Well I start drinking early in the day, if I'm only going to spend the day drinking anyway. Saves time." His eyes narrow. "So why don't you tell me who you are, and what you're doing? I got a fondness for charity cases, and here you are, running out of money with nothing you can use to make more. What'll you do when the food runs out?"

Kitiara
The massive creature reared up, then with a massive snap of it's wings launched them into the sky. The roar was almost deafening. Currents of air stroked their faces, as the ground slipped away beneath them. There was a sickening sense of vertigo, as the dragon began to plummet into a dive, but then it straightened and the feeling ceased. At first it was slow and unsteady, but then a rhythm began as they climbed higher still.
Beneath them lay clouds in a near-endless rolling sea of white. Through a sudden gap in the clouds a patchwork quilt of fields, woods and forest spread out far below, even the mountains seemed insignificant. They were so high up they could read the surface of the world like a map. Then the gap closed again, leaving a field of snow beneath a sky of incomparable blue.
Then you have flown the distance, and have arrived in Feinstar.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"A comendable effort but that takes you through D'Hara. As powerful as you are it would not be wise for one so well known as part of the Varden to travel so openly through Rhal's kingdom. Allow me to make the journey with you." Zasamal offers.

"I have many contacts in the East I can call upon and posses knowledge of routes around the border patrols that should get you through easily enough. I will not interfere with your philisopical studies, just simply make sure you make it through in one peice."

***

Holo and Lawrence

The merchants make their way downstairs to meet with the agent bringing them their goods. It wouldn't do to leave without inspecting the merchandise first. The last thing they want to do is to be trying to sell stolen crown jewels.

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
"If you wish, teacher." He replies. Your manipulations have seen to it that you're the only person he respects and defers to that isn't an elf.

Holo and Lawrence
The man's name is Petyr Baelish, also called Littlefinger, master of coin, and you wonder how he was unfortunate enough to earn that nickname. He gives you a chest, more of a strongbox. As promised, it is mostly jewelry. He also hands them a sheet of paper detailing the expected price of them all, and allowable deviations.
He seems to have had them all officially apprised, and from what you can see they did a good, accurate job of correctly assessing the value, though he may have been a little on the generous side. Jut the same, you are looking at a significant profit. Enough to live like a king for a year.

[Executor]

Achilles

Achilles' sharp blue eyes bored into the man before him, and he regarded him intensely. Blue eyes that almost seemed to glow with an internal fire, eyes that roiled and burned and sought and found and knew. Eyes of a being more God than man. There had been times when weaker minded mortals had gazed upon Achilles and, in the moment that they met eyes, they would've followed him anywhere or promised him anything. Raven was not one of these weaker minded mortals, Achilles could tell this just by looking at him.

"I am Achilles, son of Peleus, and these are my Myrmidons." he said at last, his stare softening only a little.

"As for what we are doing here... regrouping, you might say, for we were lost in a storm and our ship was wrecked on the coast. We are here to rest, and then seek passage back to Greece as soon as we can, for a war and great kleos, glory, await us there." Achilles twirled the xiphos in his hand so that the blade was facing the right way again, his powerfully muscled and well-tanned arms handling the heavy weapon as if it were as light as a twig.

"Now, I'm not sure what we shall do when money runs low, though I have a few ideas. Profitable, but not honourable, to my regreat" he finished, an almost resigned tone in his voice as he tested the edge of his xiphos with his thumb.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Smaug

Smaug seems surprised. He can't believe that he'd been asleep long enough for continents to drift, for land to change so drastically that he wouldn't recognize it.

He gets up, keeping an eye on the stranger, making it very clear that he is watching him. However, he soon gets a sly smirk near the corners of his jaws, and nods to the entrance of his den. "Would you be so generous as to show me what this new world looks like?"


Wander

Wander's thoughts were split between the pain of his crushed hand and getting to that rune. But at this point, he doesn't have very many options. He is but a human, after all...

[Cracklord]

Achilles
He softens a little as well, his blade vanishing somewhere in his clothing. But not much. There was just no give in the man.
He does note your clear skill with the sword, and that seems to make up his mind.
"I'm Raven. It's the only name I have anymore. We're the Black Company, and we can always use a man that's good with a blade. The pays good, though the life leaves a bit to be desired. Think about it, sleep on it, and I should still be here when you wake up again."
With that he nods, then turns and walks back down to the bar.

Smaug
Galbatorix nods. "I cannot stay long. But I can tell you that you slumber beneath the peaks of the Helgrind, in the city of Dras-Leona, where the men pay you tribute. And I can tell you that war is coming." With that he fades, and is gone.

Wander
As you hang down, looking at the lurching ground, you realize that the thing is trapping itself, unable to move effectively in the forest. Perhaps if you were to tangle it more completely it would become easy prey.

[horngeek]

"Actually, I was going to head to Rand pretty soon. But, you know, me and gambling..."

Mat shrugs.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

"Do you have a record of where they were obtained? I do not want to sell them too close to where you got them and risk them being reconized. Having me rotting in an Imperial Dungeon doesn't make either of us a profit." Not to mention having Holo captured by the church probably does horrible things to Lawrence's soul. He's still foggy on the details but his oath to help Holo in her travels was binding on a spirtual level.

***

Zasamal

"Very well. I shall make the nesecary arrangements. In the meantime back at the base there is a woman by the name of Kitiara. Before Galbatorix took over she was a Knight and a Rider. She is much more qualified to teach you of what your position means than I or even the Elves." Zasamal explains as they return to the base bar any interesting events on the streets of Town.

"Seek her out, ride and train with her as much as you are able to over the next moon. Even if it means neglecting your duties to the other Varden. In a months time I will secure us passage to the East and you may study to your heart's content. Do try to keep a professional image with her, should her companion Lord Soth grow jealous he will kill you in your sleep and even I may be unable to protect you."

[Colesign]

Tavi

As the grey wanderer enters, blades reflexively flash from the sheathes of Tavi's honor guard and friends.

"Stop! Put your swords away...again!" Tavi commands with a bit of frustration.

"Pardon my companions." he says to the old man. "I'm Gaius Octavian, I lead the Realm of Alera, and I was talking with Rand Al'Thor and Prince Murtagh about the "Dark One" situation."

[Cracklord]

Tavi, Rand
Gandalf nods, accepting your apology, though in truth seems rather unconcerned by the event, pushing Arasis's sword aside and walking past to sit in the chair Murtagh vacated.
"The men are there to protect you, in these troubled times such precaution is only sensible. You would be sorrier to find they did not defend you when you need them then you are to apologise for them doing their task when it is unwarranted."
He takes out a long stemmed pike, which he sucks on but does not fill or light. He pauses for a moment, then surveys the room, his gaze passing over each of you, and at last he speaks. As he does, the room seems darker, the light seems to recede, and the shadows grow, as though Twilight had come hours early.
"I came to offer counsel, that may guide you, and may fail you, for even the wise cannot see all ends, but wisdom should not be hoarded when it is better put to use. And so I bid you all listen, for the things we speak of are best not repeated, lest we draw his attention and so let him learn of our plans. We are all friends here. Or should be; for the laughter of The Dark One will be our only reward if we quarrel. For he stirs, make no mistake. Always after a defeat and a respite, the Shadow takes another shape and grows again, in one form or another."
He sighs, and in that moment seems very old, and very tired, yet possesed of a fierce vitality that will see him through. Rand has hundreds of years of life and experience, yet in that moment Gandalf seems older still, ancient beyond all reckoning.
"They may not knowingly serve him, but there is nothing that he cannot turn to evil uses. For he is very wise, and weighs all things to a nicety in the scales of his malice. Such deeds he loves: friend at war with friend; loyalty divided in confusion of hearts."

Holo and Lawrence
"Not individually, soldiers make poor book keepers even when money is involved." He replies, with a chuckle and a flash of bitterness. "But they were taken from the Midlands, and so we suggest the Empire."

Zasamal
For a moment, Eragon looks his age, the bitterness and hautear leaving his features to be replaced with a look of wonder and longing. But then he shakes his head, and the moment is gone. "Strange, that she should wait until now to reveal hersel. Perhaps my coming helped her remember her courage. I look forward to meeting her. But make your preperations soon, the Varden will need me."

Mat
Lying to Tuon is harder then you'd think. She's unusually perceptive, and women seem able to read your mind when they make the effort. But she nods, seemingly satisfied, and lifts a hand. "Surely there are taverns in your land across the sea." She replies, giving you a probing look.

[horngeek]

"Also looking for rumors. See if anything here could have an impact on Rand."

[Cracklord]

Mat
Tuon, who expected your excuse to have her in it and was preparing to hautily dismiss it, blinked, and rapidly mentally backtracked for a moment, then tapped her laquered fingernails on the armrest.
"You refer to the prophecies?" She asks. It was noted that several deviations in the recordings exist, most particularly that Rand would be a servant of the crystal throne.

[horngeek]

"...I'm partially trying to figure out why there are differences between yours and ours, yeah."

[Cracklord]

Mat
"Ah. Then I will give you a room in the pallace and you may examine them as you choose. I will have the servents see to it." That sounds like a dismissal to you. It also sounds like that, while living in a pallace isn't bad, that she'll be keeping you close. And somehow you suspect that this is going to end in you escaping from her again.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Smaug

When the man leaves, Smaug feels something that he hasn't...ever, really. A twinge of longing. No more Erebor, no more Town of Dale...it was really somewhat sad, actually. Of course, that lasted for all of one second, as soon he realized he had new lands to dominate. Plus, the idea of still being paid tribute to did a nice bit of ego inflation for Smaug.

Unfortunately, this "Galbatorix" left Smaug horribly uninformed. But, there was one thing that he did mention: a town called Dras-Leona. The town that supposedly payed Smaug tribute. There was a puzzle to be solved, and Smaug loved puzzles.

Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to this Dras-Leona. Remind them of who they were paying tribute to.

Smaug soon snakes his way out of the den, peeking outside to view his new surroundings. In particular, to see if anyone was coming, or looks like they would be foolhardy enough to try and steal from him while he was away.


Wander

At this point, his arm was sore from having to hang there with one hand. So, he shifts his body and lets go, making it so that he slides down the Colossus' body onto the ground below. With a roll, he makes it onto his feet, his free hand cupped to his face as he calls out for Agro again.

Within a few moments, Agro gallops through the trees to Wander's side. Now, however, he gets on him more slowly than usual, unable to grab the side of the saddle with his injured hand. After he swings in the saddle, he spurs Agro in front of the Colossus, aiming to lead it into immobility.

[Cracklord]

Wander
The Collosus loses momentum, having to force itself between gaps until eventually it is trapped, it's massive size working against it in the dense forest.

Smaug
A huge city of black stone looms before you, one carved in the style of Minus Morgul, dark, blocky buildings that cling to the mountain. A huge temple has been erected beneath, where priests make blood sacrifices and leave gold in the chasm below.

[horngeek]

Mat grins. "Thanks. Can I get the spear back, though? It's a good spear..."

[Cracklord]

Mat
Tuon, who knows you better then anyone other then your closest friends, and knows more about you then even they, smiles again. "Well, you have already been hung for it, so it seems I cannot do it again. I suppose it should be yours."

[horngeek]

Mat smiles gratefully. "Thanks."

[Cracklord]

Mat
Your audience is at an end. At least for now, she seems to want to keep you close, and so she invited you to a room in the pallace. You suppose you better return to the bar and meet with Thom and Juon, then try to figure out a way to escape.
On the way out, the guardsman hands you the spear, then leaves without a word.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Smaug

How thoughtful of them, Smaug cannot help but think. And how thoughtful of him. They're about to meet their little god face-to-face, likely for the first time in their lives. Seeing no one trying to steal his horde, Smaug unfurls his expansive wings and dives off of his porch, his wings carrying him to that place.

His scales glisten in the sun, and his underbelly, though shaded, shows the cuts on his armor of brilliant gemstones. He doesn't quite blot out the sun, but rest assured, he is a giant. The beating of his wings will scatter the air and anything light unfortunate enough to get in its way as he lands near the temple. His eyes scan the town as he raises his head up high, carrying himself like some kind of king.

"Your master is here!" He shouts with authority, his voice echoing through the town. "Bow before me, ye faithful, for I have returned."

----
Wander

This time, Wander takes a different approach. He tries to get around the Colossus' back, and climb up it to its head, and swing around to its chin.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"But there is no one tainted so much by the Shadow, that he cannot be brought back into the Light. And an unknowing shadow, brought forth by misjudgment and ill-forged opinion, can be dealt with. We can but try to bolster the Light in these last days."

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Indeed, safe-guarding our hearts against darkness is quite important: we can also see if we can do about ending the hostilities between the local nations."

Tavi finally finds and maps of the land, and spreads it out on a nearby table.

"So we have the Empire of Gallabritax here, currently at war with the Varden, and...the Old World? What lurks in the Old World?"

[darkblade]

Lawrence

"Well everything seems in order then. I'll be back in a month with you money." Lawrence says loading the chest into his cart.

***

Zasamal

"As you wish Master Eragon." Zasamal loathe the child he had been attached to but he maintains his civility and image of the mentor Eragon believes him to be.

Once they arrive back at the base Zasamal excuses himself to his room. It was a modest affair, a mostly bare stone room lacking in all furniture but a shelf sotcked full of alchemical powders and exotic ingredients gathered from across the world over several lifetimes. He starts a fire and begins focusing his magic, it wasn't a difficult spell he had mastered it before he even took on his curse but it required a lot of focus both on the spell itself and the target. Should it work a mental connection should be established between Zasamal and his target allowing them to communicate despite being seperated by a continent. He focused on the face and presumed general location of one Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander. Zasamal had known him for at least three lifetimes, he was (for lack of a more dignified term) completely insane but his status as the Grandfather of the great Richard Rhal granted him access to certain information that hopefully he would be willing to share.

"Zeddicus, it is Zasamal I require your aid."

[Cracklord]

Tavi, Rand
"Indeed, the evil that men do is rarely malicious, and yet it doesn't need to be. For now, war looms, but may perhaps be averted, given the right men showing the courage to talk instead of fight. For, afterall, what do distinctions of race or old hatreds mean in the face of the triumph of the dark?"
He lights his pipe, though he neither appears to channel or use any device for the task, and puffs on it a moment. "But the treacherous are ever distrustful, and when and if your pleas fall on death ears you must be ready to act. Often does hatred hurt itself!"

The Beast
After a night's pillaging, they return, and have captured a few elves who tried to run. The armies, it would seem, are elsewhere, beyond your reach. In an hour, your castle will move again.

Nekron
You are now coming towards the Spine, and more then that the ruins of Caraval. It is desserted, all life driven from the land. Nothing remains but charred land and ruin.

Wander
The great stone thing shakes like a dog, trying to knock you loose, but you mannage to cling on tenaciously, and it only tangles it further. You pull yourself up to it's shoulder, and it's head is in reach.

Zasamal
A raw boned, old face without a scrap of flesh on it materializes in the fire, the flames floating around it like hair.
"Bags, it's you." He says, blinking at your pressence. The First Wizard was powerful, and dangerous, and capable of great things when roused, but he wore the image of an irescapable old man to the point that one had to work hard not to be frustrated.
"Tywin's planning something, and Jagang is going to advance here soon. I don't have time."

[Draxx]

Conan
He is, though you're only clue to this fact is his eyes flicker. "What sort of job?" He says gruffly, leaving his drink for the moment. He prefers to drink alone.

Sonja
Well, that should be easy enough to mannipulate. But I meant tactics, way of dealing with countries they take over, that sort of thing.

Cohen
He turns the horse in the direction of the pallace, and spurs the steed into a gallop. He has something to steal.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"I will not keep you long then. I simply require permission to pass through your lands with a young member of the Varden. You share a mutal enemy in the Empire and he wishes to see your lands."

[doliest]

Kitaria
She lands down in the town, a smile on her face. A good fly. Time to check Soth's progress. He had to have passed through here to get there, if she knew her geography. Soth would hopefully be close to the destination by this point.

Tass
Tass keeps sliding in and out looking for his target. Some important item. Armor! Yes, armor!

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Now was the time to strike. Wander tries to grab onto the handle of a sword by his side as tightly as possible with his injured hand. He actually folds the other fingers around the handle, grimacing and hissing in pain as he does so. He draws the sword, a simple, old blade almost of no note, the blade pointing downwards. He steps onto the beast's shoulders, grabbing onto its head. He raises the blade over the sigil, preparing to stab it and end this creature's existance.

[Executor]

Achilles

As the door shut, Achilles turned away from it, deep in thought. He walked back to his corner and picked up his discarded cuirass. It was a cleverly wrought piece of armour, forged in the fires of Mount Etna by Hephaestus himself. The inner layer was made of layers of linen, in the style of a linothorax, but it was faced on the outside with bronze, for no loss in protection, but greater flexibility and a lighter weight than a solid bronze cuirass. He pulled this garment on over the woollen tunic he wore for comfort, to prevent chafing, and laced up the sides which secured it around his torso. The familiar weight of the cuirass felt almost like an second skin on the seasoned warrior.

Buckling his belt, with the sheathed xiphos attached, around his waist, Achilles explained the situation briefly to Eudorus before exiting the room and descending the stairs to the inn's common room. While he had intended to find this Raven again and tell him that he did not need to sleep on it, he would take any job offer that could help them get back to Greece, something else distracted Achilles in the moment he reached the bottom of the stairs.

A man, sitting at the bar. No ordinary man either, but a large, hulking mountain of muscle and bone. He looked akin to Ajax of Salamis, that hulking bulwark of the Achaeans. In a quick appraisal, from the weathered hands to the sword at his side, Achilles could tell this man was a warrior by trade, and more than that. Black-haired and sullen-eyed, with a face that could show gigantic melancholies or gigantic mirth. All at once, Achilles wished to fight this man. Victory or defeat, it would be glorious. Though Achilles could not have known it at the time, it was the first time he would meet Conan of Cimmeria.

"Barbaros" muttered the Slayer of Men, he then set to searching the room for Raven, who seemed to have disappeared in the crowd of other inn patrons.

[The Shoveler]

Tanis
He hugs the walls, following the kender. His shirt and pants itched, seeing as he's not changed in a month. He's also really wishing he could find a lake or pond or something so he could bathe. It really sucked being in captivity.

Legolas and Gimli
Gimli has his axe out as well as he steps in front of Legolas.
"He's not an enemy, my fellow dwarf! He's helped out the dwarven empire and is a neutral party between elves and dwarves! So I ask you to stand down!"

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine sighs.
So far? Well we might as well get started. I'd like to thank our host first though.
The warder nods.

[Draxx]

Conan
He does not seem to see Achilles, still staring at Croaker. Perhaps he is not as alert as he looks. Or perhaps he has noted your presence, but is yet to decide what to make of you. He could even be hiding his reaction, somehow you think it best not to underestimate this man.

He wears a jerkin, open at the top to showing his broad, muscular chest, burned brown like the sun until it was as bronze as a statue. He is at rest, and still, but when he does move it was with a feline ease of motion. A fierce vitality that was evident in every feature and motion set him apart from common men, yet his expression was neither somber nor savage, though his smoldering blue eyes hinted at a ferocity easily awakened.

This was Conan, who had come to Alagesia with nothing but his wits and his sword, and carved his way to riches already after a few months.

Cohen
The oldest hero alive spurs his horse down the road, forcing it into a gallop, beard streaming behind him in the wind, as he removes his sword from his hip, then brandishes it. He's heading for the palace.

[Corvond]

Gaborn Val Orden

Gaborn looks down at the elf, his face not hardening despite the pronouncement.

"No."

Reverberations of his deep, mellow voice rolled from the mountains, echoed over the hills and enemated from the stones themselves. Though his voice was quiet, barely more then a murmur, the words could be heard through out the entire forest, stretching hundreds of miles. He spoke no longer as a man, but with all the power and authority of the Earth itself.

The elves all stood motionless in their tracks, looking up at the figure of the King of the Earth. It was odd, but though there were many of them and they outnumbered him to a shocking degree, none of them dared move, dared carry out the orders or gain his attention.

"I ask you again, and I beg you to listen. Please. I mean you no harm. I have no wish to quarrel with you. Rather I would wish us as friends, or at least not as enemy's. War may come, but I would rather it came only when we had no choice. I do not desire conflict, and nor do I bid you serve me. Rather, I ask for permission to serve you. Will you allow me to help you and all your people?"

Lord Angmar

As the traveling bar joke leaves the city, they spot a rider on the horizon, barely more then a distant silhouette in the light of the stars and moon. Bright the night may be, but cold, and staring at him sent a deadly chill that seemed to smother the very life out of you.

Apon a black steed sat the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the setting sun behind he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. His shape was that of a big man, who seemed to crouch on the saddle, wrapped in a great black hood and cloak, so that only his boots and stirrups showed below.

In a way that you could not define, it was amongst the darkest sights you'd ever seen, something beyond the sum of human cruelty, something beyond even hell itself in terms of evil, that emanated from it, killing small animals and making sharp lances of pain in the chest of all nearby.

The horse was still, as was the rider, who kept his head bowed, as though listening. Then he stirred, and the horse moved on, the shadow departing with him, leaving the three of you to recover.

[Cracklord]

Tavi, Rand
The room still seems darker. It is taught to say the name of the Dark One, even to discuss him may draw his attention and bring bad luck upon one. This, unfortunately, is true, which is why so many fear to say his name.
Gandalf still doesn't light his pipe, simply staring out to sea, seemingly waiting for you to digest what he had told you.

Gaborn Val Orden, Link
Vanir draws himself up to his full height, thrusting his chin out, and narrows his eyes. "You are but a man. I am an elf. You claim to know the ways of the earth, but I will have no cowards peace with the likes of you. But you speak prettily enough. I will let you run if you have not the courage to remember you are a man. But I will never offer you my friendship, or my respect."

Conan
Croaker's lips twitch into the face of a man who wanted to smile but had forgotten how. "Soldiering, what else? Travel, adventure, brotherhood, gold, all that kind of sh*t. You look like a good man for it."
One interesting point- the only interesting point?- is that we have a new prospect for employment. Yeah, knock me over with a feather. But this part of the world is never at a lack for anyone in our profession.

Cohen
A retinue of Deathwatch, some ten including two massive figures of Ogiers impose themselves between you and the gates, bearing tasseled spears and with hard looks that make it clear you're not getting passed while they draw breath.

Legolas and Gimli
Felix gives you a grateful look. If everyone else is reasonable there is at least a chance of this working out, surely. Even considering the Slayers disposition, he can have reason thrust upon him
Legolas hears movement behind them in the woods, and turns to see a figure staring at them. Though she was bundled in thick leather armor and furs, with a scarf up to her narrow chin against the cold, and though her face was molded with grime and scarred from her hairline to the corner of her left lips there was no mistaking the archers sex. Her fierce brown eyes flashed beneath her unruly mass of hair that was black as pitch except for a single lock of white over her left eye.
Gotrek glares, spits on the ground, then wanders off, grumbling to himself.
Felix shrugs and steps closer, tossing his red wool cloak over his shoulder and removing his hand from his sword. He walks closer, calmer now that the situation has been defused. "Please excuse my companion. He takes his honor very seriously, and is wont to become surly and frustrated when he can't find anything to fight."

Tanis and Tass
To find a uniform, you need to find a guard. Although nobody would be convinced by Tasselhoff, given he's roughly half the size and a third of the weight.

Achilles
It's early, the sun is just rising, and the common room is almost empty, but for the drinkers who not only drinks as though there is no tomorrow, but rather hope that is the case, and a few stragglers in here early to eat or meet people.
Raven is talking to several other figures, a heavy man who barely comes up to your chin with hard eyes and the biggest sword you've ever seen slung over his shoulders, and a big, bearlike man with a thick, course beard and slowly receding hair that is fighting for every inch it loses. Both have a look like Raven, of soldiering misfits, hard and tough.

[Executor]

Achilles

Spotting Raven, and what appeared to be two other mercenaries, hardbitten fighting men by the look of them. Their arms were strange to him, being neither spears nor the short cut-and-thrust swords preferred amongst the Achaeans. Like the large man at the bar, they were obviously barbaros. Still, the Myrmidons were in a tight situation, and as their Lord, Achilles had to do what was best for them. Even if it meant swallowing his not-inconsiderable amount of pride.

"Good morning gentlemen, I am Achilles, son of Peleus." Achilles introduced himself as he came to stand by the small group. As always, he stood with a bearing that indicated his station: Chest out, chin up, stern and proud. Defiant.

"Your comrade 'Raven' has told me of a job offer for fighting men such as myself and my Myrmidons. We are interested, if you will have us. And I think you want to have us in your company, for we are the finest soldiers in Greece, that I can promise you" he said.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Okayyyyyyy." Tavi said finally. He turns back to the map: "So what about the political situation to the West?"

[Cracklord]

Tavi
Gandalf places away his pipe, and stares at you. Then he gets to his feet, and points on the map. His finger is old and wizened, but strong, like some ancient oak that endures the passing of the years only to harden.
"Beyond here is the desert. But further is chaos. Small kingdoms and city states, ruled by a loose confederation that has broken apart, as two small men fight for the scraps. To the North lies D'Hara, a place ruled by madmen and the strong. To the South comes the hordes, and if he has not taken their souls for his own then he will soon. But think not of that for now. For there are enough problems here to concern you without the need to seek more."

Achilles
The Captain gives you a look so searching and shrewd that you instantly find yourself re-evaluating him. Some men's skill is finding skill in others, born leaders who can always find the right person for a job and can inspire loyalty with a word. Agamemnon was one such, and although this bearlike man could never be called civilized or a king, he has many of the traits of a leader.
He lumbers to his feet, taking short, shuffling steps, and looks you in the eye. He pauses, considers a moment, then sits back down. He nods to the other man.
"He's a fighter. He's iron through and through, he'll break before he bends."
"Ha." The lieutenant replies, sipping his drink. "He won't follow orders."
"Then make him an officer. He'll fit right in."
"F*ck you." Raven says, without any inflection, but the captain only grunts. Raven must be a dangerous man, to be able to talk to his commander in such a way. If he were not, the man would surely kill him before losing face by allowing the insult to stand. Yet there is no real venom in the words, no real meaning behind them. It's as though they don't mean a thing behind it.
He looks up at you, and the shrewd look is still there, and still surprising. "When you join the Company, you join for life, long or short. But you look like the sort who wouldn't last, so we'll make a provision. A five silvers a day a man, officers get no extra. We'll cover everything else. Agreed?" He awaits your reaction.

Moraine & Lan
Zedd has his head in the fire, the flames flickering around it.

Zasamal
"You should have said. You have my permission, and better still you have my blessings! Bring him through, we'll even give him the men he needs if you ask! Talga Vassternich."
Old words, words dating back to the tongue of the first men. Deserve Victory.

Kitaria
A troop of soldiers kept watch at the drawbridge that led to the castle, their faces worried but their spears held ready.
Attendants and servants hurried from an adjoining stable as there was a clatter of steps as a young noble dashed from the tower towards her, stopping up short a few spear lengths away.
You could well imagine the thoughts going through the youth's head. Your armor shone like silver and was filigreed with gold, yet you wore no livery or crest and held no banner to identify, or at least any he would recognize.
More particularly, you are riding a dragon. That makes all the impression it needs.
"Perhaps you would care for some refreshment first?"

Wander
It tries to shake and buckle you lose, but it's too tightly ensnared. It does make you lose your footing and rip the skin off your knee on a protrusion, but not enough to stop you from making the blow.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"Excellent. We should be flying in through the Mountain Pass within the week, kindly alert your mountain gaurds." Zasamal says cutting the connection.

***

Holo and Lawrence

With their looted goods in the cart they set off for Imperial territory. Stopping at the first small Imperial town they come to.

[Executor]

Achilles

A little mental arithmetic, recalled from Chiron's lessons, told Achilles all he needed to know about this deal. Five drachmae a day, amongst fifty men, would result in two hundred and fifty drachmae for the whole company of Myrmidons. Within a few weeks or months, they could earn a sum more than adequate for passage back to Greece. Perhaps even shorter, if there was loot to be had with this company.

"This all sounds good, but I must say that, long or short, I shan't be able to join your company for life. Only until we make what we need to find passage back to Greece. However, until we can, the Myrmidons shall be with you, to the death, on my honour" Achilles said with a nod, satisfied with the deal. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the barbaric man with the black mane of hair sitting at the bar, where it appeared that another member of Raven's company was attempting to hire him.

"Though, one thing," Achilles said, then pointed at the raven-haired colossus of a man.

"That barbaros sitting there... are you trying to hire him as well?" he asked, eyes narrowed, a hand twitching near the hilt of his sword.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Problems tend to congregate around each other, Grey-cloaked one." Tavi replied. "I just want to be forewarned. Additionally..."

He purses his lips and stares at the eastern part. "If D'hara is strong, and the 'hordes' are many, it seems like they would make powerful allies, if we could find a way to end their war. Of course, we'd probably have to sort out the Empire and Varden conflict first. Uh, why are the Varden and the Empire fighting again?"

[Cracklord]

Druss The Legend
As the dawn sky lightened and the mist vanished, the first realities of apocalypse hammered home on the walls of the city. Dozens of balistae arms were pulled back by hundreds of sweating warriors. Muscles bunching and knotting, the rebels drew back the giant arms until the wicker baskets at their heads were almost horizontal. Each basket was loaded with a block of jagged granite.
The defenders watched in frozen horror as the commander raised his arm. Then the arm swept down, and the air was filled with a deadly rain that crashed and thundered amongst the defenders. The basements shook as boulders fell. By the gate tower, three men were smashed to oblivion as a section of crenelated battlement exploded under the impact of one huge rock. Along the wall men cowered, hurling themselves flat, hands over their heads.
The noise was frightening, the silence that followed was terrifying. For as the first thunderous assault ceased and the soldiers raised their heads to gaze bellow, it was only to see the same process being casually repeated. Back, and further back went the massive arms. Up went the Commanders hand. Down it went.
And the rain of death bore down.

Achilles
"That a problem?" The lieutenant replies, his gaze making it clear he solved his problems laterally. The captain shakes his head, and the man relaxes, like a dog leashed and calmed.
"We have a war to fight. We'll take any man we can get. He can fight, that's what matters." The Captain says, his voice gruff but not angry.
Raven is silent, slouching in his chair, fine to go by whatever his officer ordered him to do.
The two witch doctors are still bickering, now using the shadows on the walls as a sort of army to clash, spelling out obscenities or summoning silhouettes of demons to tear apart the others work. The dark one seems to be getting the worst of it, but it doesn't stop either of them.

Tavi
Murtagh takes charge, and Gandalf returns to his seat to resume his silence. "A little more then a hundred years ago, Galbatorix took the empire by fire, killed the Riders to a man, tossed the king into the street to be torn apart by an angry mob, and since then has ruled the Empire. They want him off the throne, and they'll climb over a mountain of corpses to do it."

Holo and Lawrence
You cross one of the passes that lead out of D'Hara. It is narrow, and winding, and already being reinforced and guarded to prepare for what Richard insists is an imminent invasion. Across the mountains is the Midlands, a collection of kingdoms and tribes, most of which have been forced into the D'Haran Empire by means of Richard's strong arm tactics, stopping just short of invading but refusing trade, travel and any movement beyond territories until they submit and pay tribute 'for their own protection'. A few factions remain stubbornly independent, but you doubt they will hold out long.
Beyond is Westland, a smaller country that chooses to live without magic or the supernatural, where Richard was raised in exile, and beyond is the Hadrac Dessert. The Empire is beyond that.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine and Lan
Lan frowns as Moraine raises an eyebrow and clear her throat. It isn't everyday you walk in on people sticking their heads in fireplaces now is it.
May I ask what you are doing?

[Cracklord]

Moraine and Lan
Zedd removes his head, strangely unharmed, and waggles his fingers in a manner he obviously associates as mysterious. Zedd is a great and powerful wizard, but spends more time creating the image of this then actually applying it. "I was sending my mind adrift, young lady, to better speak to one a world away."

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

By this point, the scrape is no issue. Instead, Wander raises the blade upwards, above the rune, and as soon as he establishes his footing, he plunges the blade deep into the rune with a grunt. The fresh gouge in the Colossus' chin spews out a geyser of some sort of black blood, a mixture of ancient energy and whatever keeps the creature alive. Wander braces himself for the inevitable shaking that is to come from the pain that the blade brings.

[Executor]

Achilles

Achilles grins, his smile making him look more than a bit wolfish, like a great predator that has its prey cornered and is anticipating the joy of the kill. It is how Achilles always looks when he smiles.

"Oh, no, sir, no problem at all" said the Lord of the Myrmidons, grasping the hilt of his xiphos with one hand, his arms almost seeming to twitch with a nervous, barely contained energy. In his mind's eye, he saw great visions of battle and bloodshed, glorious and horrific all at once.

"It is just too bad that you will be hiring that man, for I would wish to meet him on the field of battle. It would do me great honour, for he has the look of a worthy opponent about him, despite being a barbaros" he explained, and then seemed to calm himself, and slowly, almost reluctantly, released his sword hilt from his hand.

"When do we depart? And against whom shall we campaign?" Achilles asked, his mind now focused on the task at hand.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Riders." Tavi muses. "Riders like you, and your...giant lizard."

He choses his next words carefully: seeing as his grandfather had to contend with a large amount of greedy, scheming aristocrats looking to kill him and seize the crown, he instinctively dislikes the thought of coup d'eats.

"Why did Galabotriox over throw the old rulers in the first place?" Tavi asks levelly.

[Cracklord]

Achilles
Raven chuckles at that, and The Lieutenant glares. He stops abruptly, and resumes his silence. "You'll leave him alone as long as your part of the company, or you'll swing." The Lieutenant says, and he means it. He was a direct man, and dealt with problems just as directly. Especially dissension in the ranks. Not that it was a problem normally. The Company was like a family, if a horrific collection of misfits.
"As to who we're working for and where we are going..."
He smiles, with no real humor, but more with a sort of cynical joy in the human capacity for betrayal and plotting. "We're going to Uru'Baen, and we're working for Tywin Lannister, hand of Richard Rahl."

Wander
The massive being begins to shake, and then, without further ceremony, it falls apart, fault lines snapping, dirt trickling down and stones losing their cohesion. You manage to hit the ground in a roll, and are not further injured. It is then that, for the first time, you hear the voice of the earth king, Gaborn Val Orden.

Grimgor
You hear Gaborn speak. Everyone in the woods does.

Tavi
Murtagh shrugs. "No one remembers except him, and he isn't telling. He never bothered to make his reasons clear, he doesn't believe he has to explain himself to anyone. The Varden claim he is mad, and ended a golden age of prosperity. I don't know about that, though civic works and roads are paid for by him, so he cannot be accused of stifling progress."

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine appears interested in the totally obvious Harry Potter reference. Which only reminds me more that my parents wot let me go to the Harry Potter midnight movie premier with my friends because I got a detention.:smallfrown:
That is interesting. I just came to let you know that we have to leave, like now.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

"Alright Holo get your cloak ready. We're almost to the Westland, we'll stay there a couple of days to get the supplies before we try and cross the desert to the Empire." Lawrence says.

Holo frowns slightly, it's hard to go back to donning a disguise again after being free for so long but she does so all the same. The long cloak when pulled over her eyes completely renders her ears hidden by clothe and shade and with her tail tucked into her skirt if you didn't know of her inhuman features in advanced you wouldn't think too look for them. "I am not wearing this in the desert. It will be much too hot."

***

Zasamal

Only two more people to contact. Next on Zasamal's list was the head of the Fu-Man clan of assasins. If Zasamal could not bring fear of the Varden to Galloborx's heart then a full hit team of ninja assasin would at least put him on edge. "Master Toki, Hear me."

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
"She's a good archer if she's able to get our backs that easily. I commend your combat skills."
"Don't worry your hide too much, lad. We prefer to avoid fights with others, seeing peace as a better alternative. When you live long enough you start to realize that this world could do better without violence."
His smile is visible even through his beard, which belies the age of the man beneath.
"So, do you know what happened to this town?"

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
The room you stare into was dark, with only just enough light to determine color. Around were statues of the many gods of death, or perhaps not so many. All were one god, one thing, one fear, one hope. Deep in this temple, that thing was worshiped, paid tribute. This temple was a house of death, but not of pain or of torment. It is empty but for one figure, who sits cross legged in the center. eyes closed, at peace. Around it, men come in to pray at the statues. Later, they would take poison and there passing would be gentle. There are always a few who find life a burden and wish to end it. And so they come here, where they will cross over easily.
The figure looks up. He is young again, or wearing the face of a young man. He wears long hair with one side colored white and the other red. His features are narrow and delicate, and he is shirtless revealing sharply defined muscles. This all means nothing, there is no meaning to the shapes and faces they wear, or the names they take.
"This one is Jaqen H'ghar." He says. "And he listens."

Holo and Lawrence
Hartland is one of the largest towns within the nation of Westland as well as one of the closest to the boundary. Hartland is nestled in the Hartland Valley of the Hartland Woods and is the center of government in Westland.
It is ruled by an elected council.
The houses are small and close together, but are clean and well-kept, with white-fenced yards and kept in good repair. As one continues towards the boundaries of the town the white-fenced yards give way to larger garden plots in front of small cottages set farther back from the road.
It occurs to you that you could probably make a few small deals here, in order to begin transforming your baggage into liquid wealth.

Legolas and Gimli
Kat has lived in the forest more or less constantly, sleeping under the stars. She has been known to stalk so close to her enemies she could if she chose reach over and pat their heads.
Felix sighs. "My companions and I are strangers. The boat was meant to take us to Lustria, but fate has a way of tossing my companion and I in all a manner of situations, so why should this be any different? We are as lost as you are."

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

As he lays there, Wander hears a voice. It was different from the voice of Dormin that sent him on this quest. Dormin's was fractured, the voice of a male and female, both spoken with the same breath, both blatantly powerful. However, this voice was like a soft breeze, gentle, kind, soft. Yet there was a power behind it, a power as old and venerable as the earth itself.

The voice caused Wander to get up, looking around to find the source for a second. The voice gave him a bit of pause, for a moment forgetting everything except the voice. It was odd. The contents of the voice seemed to be a response to a conversation, and yet it was as if the voice was talking directly to him. For the first time in a while, Wander had felt peace.

Then, he remembered the situation he was in. He looked back at the pile of rubble that was once the Colossus, fully expecting it to do as the others have done and come after him in a form of bleak darkness, thrusting what is left of its essence into him.

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
"Then let us be lost together, shall we?"
"Right, I think we would all be better off together than alone. We've enough rations for all of you if you wish to wander with us."

[Cracklord]

Legolas and Gimli
Gotrek grunts, then shoulders his axe, clearly against the idea of being around an elf, but resigned to it enough not to start a fight. This was enough to make Felix worried about his companion, normally any excuse would do. But he decided it would be best not to give word to his worries, instead focussing on his new companions.
"I am Felix Jager, and my companions are Gotrek Gurnisson, a Slayer, and Kat." The girl gives a little wave. "I cannot speak for my companion, obviously, but I would be honored to travel with you."

Wander
There is unhealthy green pulse from the remains, a sickly green like mold, and a foul stench. Something like mist congeals out of it, forming the vague approximation of a figure, grotesquely over-muscled, ugly, primitive looking and squat, that grows in strength and power, until you fancy you can make out details, or at least the suggestion of details.
Then it forces itself apon you, undulating to cling around you, smothering and corrupt. You can't help it, you inhale, and the noxious thing makes it's way inside you like something alive, making you shudder. It slowly fades, drifting away, and leaving you feeling nauseous and light headed, near to collapse. That thing wasn't just a collosus, the orcs had changed it in some fundamental way.

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

That was part of the plan. Lawrence sets about searching for a market or an Inn. Whichever they should happen upon first.

Holo is not quite as content though. "Such a brutal display on man forcing his will over that which he was not meant to control. It's disgusting."

***

Zasamal

Zasamal looks over the young assasin without any outward reaction. Disapointing he knew what buttons to push to make Toki do his bidding, this young man was new to him but he should be able to work with this without too much difficulty. "I have two contracts for your clan. A strike against the Empire and against an independent faction traveling through D'hara. Interested?"

[Colesign]

Tavi

"I should talk with King Gallabriotix soon, then." Tavi replied to Murtagh. "If we cannot resolve the differences between the Empire and the Varden, then perhaps we can work out a cease-fire for about, say, a month or two that allows us to find a way to deal with the Dark One. The Realm and United Nations of Alera, as both an alliance of former bitter enemies and a neutral party in this land, can be the arbitrator in any of these potential negotiations."

[Executor]

Achilles

"Richard Rahl... Tywin Lannister... Strange names, though I'm sure their coin is the same as anybody's" Achilles said with a laugh, unaffected by the Lieutenant's harsh words. It took quite a bit of authority for Achilles to take heed, and even Agamemnon, High King of Kings, was often defied by the Slayer of Men.

"Relax, my lord" he continued, fixing his gaze on the grim Lieutenant "If he has our brother-in-arms, I shan't lay a hand on him, though I would be interested in a sparring session." Achilles finished, glancing at the mountain-like barbaros once more.

"So this Tywin Lannister... what is his business in Uru'baen and how shall we fulfill it? Achilles asked, but before he could be answered, they were interrupted by Eudorus and Patroclus descending the stairs, also armoured in cuirasses and with swords on their belts. Of the three leaders of the Myrmidons, Achilles was the tallest and fairest in hair colour. Patroclus was almost like him in height, but had a leanness about him, almost a skinny adolescent quality, which made his armour seem a little too large for him, and his hair was a dark bronze, rather than Achilles' golden mane. Of the three, Eudorus was the shortest and stockiest, with broad, powerful shoulders and a thick, bull-like neck, and long black hair braided in the Spartan fashion.

"My Lord, the men are beginning to wonder what our plan is, I told them I would ask you" said Eudorus. Achilles smiled, a genuine smile this time, not the wolfish murderer's grin he usually wore, and set a hand on his loyal captain's shoulders.

"My lords, this is Eudorus, Captain of the Myrmidons, and this is Patroclus, a distant cousin and close friend. Brothers, meet our new benefactors. I have agreed to join their mercenary company, the wages will be good enough, I think, to earn our way back to Greece in several weeks, perhaps a few months." Achilles explained, gesturing to the commanders of the Black Company in turn as he told Eudorus this. The Myrmidon wore a sour expression, resentment evident in his eyes, resentment that noble Greeks such as his Lord must take orders from barbaroi such as these mercenaries. Patroclus, on the other hand, looked satisfied enough with the arrangement, but then it was hard to dishearten Patroclus.

"Anyways, my lords, who is our enemy? We were stolen from duty in a very great war in our homeland, and I yearn for kleos" Achilles said, his murderer's grin returning. He looked dangerous, and more than a little insane, with such a grin on.

[AnimeKid]

Auron

While Lawrence sets up shop he keeps an eye out for would be theives and or greedy street thugs using the intimidating aura that people said he had to full effect. Wealth was something that everyone wanted, but not everyone had, therefore he must be vigilant.

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
The problem with dealing with them was that you never could be sure who you were dealing with. This might be Toki wearing a new face and name, or it might not. They were as mysterious and secretive as possible, it aided their work.
"The favor of the God of Death is not something to take on lightly, for balance must be upheld." He says, without so much as a flicker of emotion.
"Our prices are twofold. The first is the worldly price, that shall give you our favor. The second the spiritual one, that shall allow us to work." His lips quirk into a smile.
"When you leave the tent, you will kill the first two men you see, instantly. Then you shall whisper two names, and we shall see to the rest. The worldly price you shall see arrives at out temple by the next new moon."

Tavi
Murtagh nods. "The King must hear of this. I will take you and Rand, but I regret that Thorn will not be able to bear more then three at a time, and will not fly unless I am with him."

Holo and Lawrence
Westland is a dangerous place for those of magic. The people hate it, and lynchings or beatings are to be expected if they catch wind of you. For that reason it is best Holo stays out of sight.
You find what could be generously called a tavern, though it has the cheer of a tomb, and farmers and craftsmen are drinking, resting from the days work.

Achilles
"He didn't tell me. His son gives the orders, and as long as he pays we follow them." The captain replies, standing up, and rolling his shoulders,then lumbering out.
The lieutenant stares at you, his own grin remaining in place though his face backs about six inches away from it, and then he nods. "Go see the annalist, get your names written for the record, then get your things. We leave at mid day."
Croaker is still talking to Conan at their table.

[AnimeKid]

Lazlo

He nods at Murtagh and says to Tavi "I will wait here with the rest of the troops."

[Executor]

Achilles

Swift-footed Achilles locked eyes with the Lieutenant for a single moment, and in that moment he knew that his time with this company would be a contest of wills with the Lieutenant, just as his time with the Achaean host was marked by quarrels with Agamemnon. Flashing his madman's grin yet again, he bowed his head to the Lieutenant and then turned and took his leave.

"Patroclus, go have our names marked down. Eudorus, get the men roused and ready to go, I have a feeling that we shall be marching long and hard today" Achilles ordered his two subordinates, and they rushed swiftly off to do as he bid them.

Within a half an hour, as the sun reached its zenith in the sky, the fifty Myrmidons were assembled outside, in a rectangle ten men wide and five men deep. Each was sweating in his bronze or layered linen armour, and a variety of helmets in many styles were pulled up onto their heads, for comfort. Spears were in every hand, swords at every side, great round shields on every back. In front of the column stood tall Achilles, stern and motionless, like a statue of an ancient god of war, and he faced the inn and awaited his new comrades.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander stares at the thing as it rises from the rubble, before turning and trying to run away as it lunges at him. When it clings to him, Wander holds his breath, struggling to try and shake it off of him before finally gasping for air, inhaling the congealed mist as he does so. He shudders as it creeps down his throat, almost making him want to gag. Finally, it leaves him, leaving him woozy and his head spinning. He finally stumbles onto the forest floor, the cumulation of what just transpired finally catching up to him.

Deep inside of him, the essences of the other three colossi that he has killed wriggle in anticipation of welcoming their brother to their new home. However, as it creeps into Wander's body, they halt, unsure of what to make of what has happened to it. The reluctance is nauseating, several times making Wander almost throw up. However, it is too late. For better or worse, it is in him now, joined by the essences of its former brothers.

Meanwhile, Agro hesitantly walks up to Wander, wondering if its safe to come close to his master.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

The immortal steps backwards one step out of the tent keeping his gaze leveled upon the assasin. He brandishes his scythe with a wicked smile"You may wish to reprise your price."

***

Lawrence and Holo

They have been through Westland before it was an unfortunate fact of their profession. They'd never say it outloud but they both knew all too well that Holo was on borrowed time, very few places left in the world would welcome, much less accept a lost nature spirit.

Lawrence approaches the bar of the Tavern. "How much for a room?"