Curse

Brother Doug · Mar 06, 2006, 08:42 PM // 20:42

The spirit welcomed the cold, icy grip of the Mists. This was its true home. The spirit gave a sigh of relief; the battle would most likely be over now, and Relius wouldn’t need his assistance. The Unbound One hoped that this was true as he continued on into the depths of the Mists. All at once, a beautiful scene surrounded him. Green hills, bright blue skies, and golden trees lit the land. The spirit sighed.

“Well, he’s close. Although, I didn’t expect the scenery to be so…cheerful.” It grimaced at the word. Something obviously had to be done to fix the repugnantly beautiful sight. The spirit’s head jerked, and its eyes turned a deep black. In a few moments, a booming thunder rolled in the hills in the distance. The serene scene broke down rapidly as dark clouds swarmed in, the wind picked up and seemingly blew the green grass away until the ground turned to hard cold stone concrete, the sky becoming so dark it was near impossible to see.

“Much better…”

The spirit walked down a graveled hill, and was surprised to find not only the mountainfolk, but the monk from both the Cayven massacre and the Fort assault. “Well,” it said, its voice becoming more misty, more venomous “that was unexpected. I knew I would find the mountainfolk down here. But you? The last I saw of you, you were chasing my old accomplice out of the Fort. The only way for you to get here is… Well, you need magical assistance. From the looks of the Shaman over there, I can see how the mountainfolk has entered. But you, you’re quite the curious one. Divine help, I would guess.” The spirit shrugged, walking closer to the pair. “No matter. I’ll just have to destroy the both of you then. Allow me to show you a taste of..." the spirit's eyes gleamed, as though it had realized something important. "Rodgort’s wrath!” The spirit cackled, then struck its hands onto the cold stone. Instantly, the ground split, sending a gaping crack towards the two heroes, forcing them to move slightly apart. Lava poured forth, setting the last blades of grass aflame. The spirit itself had began to change.

Muscles rippled on Rodgort’s body, and it grew triple its height, igneous rock cracked with lava began to form on its skin. The spirit’s hands grew to coal-black claws. Its face elongated, becoming more snout-like. Jagged teeth grew inside its gaping maw. A large spike burst from the spirit’s forehead. Rodgort’s eyes burned with power, and it gave a loud, animal roar.

“My…my name. I remember it. I remember my past…who I am! I am Rodgort, master of fire, and the first and most powerful…of the Titans!” Rodgort’s head looked down at the two heroes. “First, to separate you two…” Slamming its hands together, Rodgort forced a column of rock to shoot out of the ground at Ristaron’s feet, sending him higher up in the Mists. The demonic head of Rodgort turned to face Ristaron.
“You may have part of what you need to destroy me, but it is not enough. You may have Life, but War and Death are nowhere to be found. So long, mountainfolk…”
That being said, Rodgort lifted its arm, preparing to impale the Ranger on its claws…

Meanwhile, Relius had just reached the Fort. Krytan soldiers were everywhere, and he was confused. Seeing one of his companions from Foible’s Fair, he ran up to him, nearly out of breath from all his running.
“My friend, what is happening? Why is the Fort being occupied by Krytans? What in the Mists has happened here?”

(OOC: Wow. Seems I've made quite the demi-god there...if Rodgort- yes, Rodgort...the invocation, etc...I searched on the topic, and besides finding Trogdor, I didn't find anything that would interfere with this or the Guild Wars story. If he needs to be toned down a bit, let me know.)

Mentalmdc · Mar 06, 2006, 10:17 PM // 22:17

(OCC: Nope tis all good

)

Rhiannon glanced upwards as the pillar of rock carrying Ristaron rocketed up into the sky out of sight. The Titan lept up more concerned about Ristaron. Rhiannon was knocked aside but quickly regained balance, seeing in the corner of her eye the spirit she ran for it swinging her sword high above her head, with extreme skill and precision she swung such a stroke that normally would have severed the spirits head in a single fell swoop but this was the mists and the spirit was more at home, more than 10 times more powerful than in the mortal word. Rhiannon ran straight through the entity falling down a rocky path. Rhiannon landed with a thud as all her breath left her. Fire erupted from above as the ground shook heavily with the moving of the titans feet. Rhiannon looked at the spirit despising the smug look upon its face. This titan was not all that lay in store for the pair, the greater evil was yet to be unlocked. Rhiannon thought for a moment before realising exactly where they were. Dwayna had emplanted some of her knowledge in Rhiannon, this battle was taking place outside the temple of Terah, the resting place of the chest of Tilau which contained all the Pure hatred greed and anger of men, if opened it would be unleashed upon Tyria until all men had finnally destroyed each other, but what was worse is that this Titan could also awaken other Titans who once empower with this evil magic would be able to take over the mists, there would be no rest even for the dead. Rhiannon ran for the gates of the temple as the spirit pursued her unleashing its fiery magic. The inscriptions on the wall told of how the magic worked, but it was one engraving that caught Rhiannons eye the most and that sent pure dread flooding through her, should a mountainfolk chant the correct words, the spell will be changed and all the Titans will die but instead a most dreadful and powerful liche will be born, one that will take over Tyria turning into a land of fire and rock. A jet of fire hit Rhiannon as her robes burst into flames, yet not a mark was left. Rhiannons eyes glowed blue and a reffreshing healing feeling flood through her veins. This was the mists, unnatural things were possible and the spirit was going to have to step up his game, which unfortunately for Rhiannon was about to happen.

Ristaron · Mar 09, 2006, 10:33 PM // 22:33

Enough strength had returned to the mountainfolk that he managed to move quick enough to avoid the savage claws. Feeling the breeze as they barely missed, Ristaron swung up with both rapiers at the vulnerable forearm.
Aside from a growl from the Titan, and the rapiers being harder to move, there was no apparent effect. The weapons emerged from the slightly translucent forearm, and again were in nothing but air.
Ristaron prepared for a second assault, but the Titan fell back. It wasn't long before the ranger saw why: Rhiannon had caught its attention.
"Rhiannon!" he called after the monk, but she was racing away. Ristaron quickly sheathed his rapiers and as fast as he could began climbing down the pillar of concrete that had been raised beneath him.
As he descended, the voice of his mother sounded in his head. Her gentle intonations almost alluring, her words just as she had said them a hundred years ago.

"You have a great destiny".
"Pardon?" Ristaron answered, confused.
"Melandru's eyes are upon you", the woman explained, "you will know why, one day."
"The gods abandoned Tyria long ago", the young ranger retorted, "Melandru's eyes no longer find this land appealing."
"No", his mother conceded, "but I speak not of the land, I speak of you, my son."
"How do you know?" Ristaron asked, a little more harshly than he had intended. But his mother merely smiled.
"I can see it in your eyes."

The ranger pushed off and freefell the last few feet to the concrete ground, and turned to run after Rhiannon. But the entire landscape changed as he turned his gaze towards battle, it was once again rolling green hills and fluffy clouds; and in the centre of his vision was a woman. She was more beautiful than anything the ranger had ever seen, brown hair matching brown eyes, contrasting pale skin. Her clothes seemed to be made of wood and grass, yet they matched her gentle curves and moved with her so she walked unhindered. Her bare feet made no sound as she approached.
"Melandru", was all the mountainfolk could muster from his chapped lips.
"Thou knowest me?" it was more a statement than a question, one that left the ranger at a loss. "Thine mother spoke of me when thou wast young", she continued.
"You brought up that memory?" Ristaron asked, more accusingly than he had intended. Melandru smiled and reached up, brushing her soft hand on the ranger's dark skin. At the touch, all weariness left his bones, and he felt the veritable fire that burned within him grow hot.
"Thou art destined", she whispered. The ranger's midnight eyes fixed on her beautiful face, her godly features and immortal youth. He had seen too much to have ever thought the gods didn't exist, but never had he believed the tales of their fairness, their nobility.
"Destined", the word seemed foreign to him, but Ristaron searched his mind for its meaning. For the life of him, he could not take is mind off Melandru.
"Destined", the goddess repeated, "deep down, thou knowest what for."

Just as quickly as it had appeared, the scene disappeared, leaving the ranger looking after Rhiannon as she ran from the giant Titan. Shaken and thrilled by his conversation with the goddess he had long wished to meet, the mountainfolk took a moment before realizing the danger to his friend.
Tightening his grip on the hilts of his rapiers, he set off after her.
He didn't notice the way his weapons had changed.

Brother Doug · Mar 10, 2006, 01:53 AM // 01:53

(OOC: Hmm...I'd post, but I have to wait for Rilder. Just to add something here, the RP's been going great, and I'm glad it hasn't died out.

Hmm, just realized I've been promoted to Citizen. )

Ristaron · Mar 10, 2006, 03:57 AM // 03:57

(OOC: Nice, gj. Yeah the RP is doing amazing... even though the multiple gods appearing to seperate characters in this single crucial chapter is rather cliche

Not as cliche as 'chosen ones' and 'destinies' and 'ultimate enemies'... though they are all perfect additions here.

)

Rilder · Mar 10, 2006, 06:36 AM // 06:36

Quote:

Originally Posted by Brother Doug

(OOC: Hmm...I'd post, but I have to wait for Rilder.

OOC: On it ^_^ , and sorry if i kinda break the rule about going into other players.... but just pushing ahead.

RP:

Zarda looked over at Relius, “The Mists happened here, the gods need us, Ristaron and Rhiannon need us.” Relius gazed up at him questionably, “They are in the mists, the only idea I have to get us there is this sword.” With that Zarda drew the long black sword, forked near the hilt for strong stabbing power, along the blade runes and glyphs decorated it.

“Ahh,” said Relius, “Seems like some sort of spell.” Zarda looked over the runes and Glyphs, “A ghostlike champion gave it to me, a champion of Balthazar”

“Then if it is a champion of Balthazar, I think it would require blood to do it’s magic.”

Zarda knew what he had to do and chanted the words he could read and swung the sword around spinning it in his hand, within seconds the words and runes on the blade glowed bright blue. He stopped, and handed the sword to Relius and nodded, Relius nodded back and took the sword, and thrust it into Zarda’s heart, there was no pain but the blade grew iridescent blue, brighter, brighter the blue light encompassing them both, the darkness of the night disappeared, and then it was gone. Zarda looked up only too see a large titan claw slash at him, and Zarda threw his body over Relius who had not yet looked up, the claw marks left deep gouges in his back, including the new armor gifted by the Krytan guild.

Getting up, Zarda grabbed the blade from his side were it was once again and balanced it in his hand, it was time for the moment of truth. Rilder Charged towards the gigantic titan sealing his destiny in a single charge, he drew closer noticing the beast preparing to unleash a finishing claw into Rhiannon, Zarda ran faster, faster, Balthazar seemed to be with him in total power , the sword ready to slash, the runes still glowing, the beast turned its head, and its body back around and faced him, drawing a huge swing, Zarda closed, the beast swung , the claw hit, and Zarda lost his sword it flew straight into the beasts chest, and through the other side fire engulfed the wounds and the beast cried but was not seriously hurt, just weakened… Zarda on the other hand had flown at least 300 feet across the area they were in and smashed hard against a statue and fell to the ground, the spirit of Balthazar that had guided him just now, leaving him, his eyes gazed over the battlefield watching the battle go on. Time was running out, for the once levy of cayven, and now warrior of Balthazar.

Mentalmdc · Mar 10, 2006, 05:01 PM // 17:01

The Titan stumbled momentarily sending shockwaves rippling through the ground, the force due to the severe size of the titans threw the spirit off guard giving Rhiannon a chance to get up run, Rhiannon sped across the ground as huge cracks began to seep across. A large explosion of shattering rock flew across the ground as all around spouts of steam and tongues of fire licked the sky. The Titan ran across the ground crushing the places where he trod. Rhiannon spun round and cast a single spell sending a blue beam that caused a small burning sensation on the titan right between the eyes. The searing pain did nothing but Rhiannon cast it again and again until the annoying sensation caused the Titan to swat about as if trying to crush flies but instead searing his own arms. A tidal wave of lava swept across the ground but Rhiannon cast Reversal of Fortune redirecting the wave to the Titan. It smashed into the huge lumbering figure as it fell to the floor, a curdling roar rippled across the holy lands as the beast was swept away. Rhiannon wiped away the sweat that ran down her left temple and took a deep breath, unfortunately the peace was reboken by a screeching gurgle as a hand rose from the river of lava, a glowing gold monster rose from the depths, the Titan, just even more powerful than before as twice as angry. The spirit gave a smug look towards Rhiannon.

Rhiannon centered her mind as she was once taught as a child, she began to hum in a meditating fashion and let her inner peace flow out of her. A flock of blue doves flew down from the sky and began to circle round the spirit, a blue ghostly light emanating from them. The light built in intensity getting brighter and brighter, it hurt to look towards the light. It was at that moment the birds made a b-line towards the spirit at a huge speed. All the doves crashed into its chest, Rhiannon swore the spirit had shrunk in size. A grim light flashed from the spirits eyes.

"My eye sight, I can't see. What have you done?"

The spirit flailed its arms around getting angrier and angrier. Rhiannon prepared her final death spell and aimed for the spirit. She chanted the words and a blue light began to travel the length of the rod, unfortunately a large thud hit Rhiannon and she stumbled changing her aim, when the deathly light left her staff it did not hit the spirit but someone else, Rhiannon screamed as it happened as several party members looked round in horror. The bolt head straight for Zarda.

Rilder · Mar 11, 2006, 06:11 AM // 06:11

“Son, you will learn the ways of the warrior some day, I can see it in your eyes, you will fight a great evil, glory will be yours, son,” Zarda Markazo’s father spoke to him while young Zarda sat looking up at him from his lap, Zarda’s father had been the greatest hero in the world to The young Zarda…

Zarda flashed back to reality, pain seeped from every bone, muscle and body part, he looked up watching the bolt fly straight at him, as time itself seemed to slow down. Making peace with himself he closed his eyes, he had become a hero; glory was his, and death was his reward.

And the bolt hit.

Ristaron · Mar 11, 2006, 07:14 AM // 07:14

Always a fighter of passion, Ristaron was never quite as skilled in combat as when he was desperate for friends. The ranger loved the earth, and in his heart was a place for every living thing upon it, with friends in the spots most dear.
The fire in his midnight eyes became an inferno as he watched Zarda take that terrible hit.

Roaring with rage, the mountainfolk charged for the blinded spirit, the one responsible for all the harm to his friends. It was unfair, that so many should risk themselves for his sake. It was unfair that others suffer in his place. It was unfair to all those around him that the ranger had ever met them, and ultimately put them in this position.
But all that merely fueled the raging conflagration in his very core.

The Titan heard the cry of acrimony, and turned to face the man he had come to kill. But this time, he would finish him without further delay.
Calling upon the inborn power within him, Rodgort unleashed a hellborn fury of ash and flame, a great wave that went straight for the charging ranger. It was a hopeless sight to everyone, as the deadly surge raced towards Ristaron, growing as it went. Their hearts stopped as all sight of him was lost to it.
Their breath stopped when they saw twin blue lines slice through the fiery cloud, parting the demonic billow before the ranger as he continued forward without pause. Ten feet now separated the Titan and the mountainfolk, and Ristaron allowed his upper body to fall back as his legs continued for several strides before angling with his torso. The agile ranger slid along the concrete floor between the Titan's legs, slicing out on either side with his enchanted rapiers as he passed. Rodgort's calfs shook, and the Titan roared in pain and surprise. Before he could help himself, the spirit fell to his knees.
Ristaron was already up, and in the air. The ranger landed on Rodgort's back and ran up his spine, dragging one of his rapiers behind him through the ethereal skin. Jets of gas spewed from the cracks the weapon carved.
Coming up to the Titan's shoulders, Ristaron took both his rapiers above his head, and reversed the grip on them. As he moved up the neck, he began to drive down, and as he passed over the place where the Titan's neck and head met, the points connected with their target.
Rodgort howled and clawed at the ranger as he held onto his rapiers, embedded in the base of the Titan's skull.
"Now!" Ristaron's calls managed to carry over the spirit's frantic cries, "finish him!"

Mentalmdc · Mar 11, 2006, 08:50 AM // 08:50

Rhiannon was momentarily stunned as she stood there wearily looking at the slump shape of Zarda, yet for him it was not the end, his soul would still walk elsewhere in the mists, his journey only just beginning. Rhiannon sighed wishing there were someway to reverse all that had happened during the day. Rhiannon peered over towards Ristaron seeing him begin to get an upper hand at the Titan. Once again Rhiannon charged up her death shot and directed it towards the Titan.

The beam of light collided with the chest of the Titan as a searing heat and blue mist spread across the monsters torso. Pieces of rock crumbled to the ground and a glowing light seeped through the cracks. The monster began to stumble and sway until in a big crash of rocks and dust the Titan fell to the floor in a large heap Ristaron falling with it. However to Rhiannons great delight Ristaron rolled out from underneath the rubble. The Titan was defeated, yet the spirit still remained, Rhiannon knew if the spirit was capable of summoning titans, this could be a fight they may not win.

The spirit sat silently listening to the battle taking place around him, the crashing noise of rocks falling was enough to alert him to the titans fate. He was runnig out of options and without sight he could do nothing. But then he remembered how the monk had screamed, she had kill one of her own friends. This gave the spirit an idea. He searched using his mind for the body of Zarda before he chanted a dark magic skill. The spirit dissapeared but Zarda stood up, an evil glow in his eyes, the spirit now regained its eyesight through its new minion Zarda.

Rhiannon shivered as a cold biting wind swept through the hollow world. Rhiannon knew what was coming, the chant that would release a greater evil, and open the chest in the temple would be said eventually.

Lady Lorwinia · Mar 12, 2006, 04:59 AM // 04:59

Ah. Fantastic RPing guys.

I will definetly join the next one. Right on

Ristaron · Mar 14, 2006, 09:49 PM // 21:49

Though his unguents had mended his physical wounds, and Melandru relieved all physical exhaustion, Ristaron was on autopilot as he slowly rose from the heap that had been Rodgort the Titan. Managing several steps, the mountainfolk quickly was overcome with dizziness as his mind began to shut down all but the most vital systems. An act of self-preservation.
Falling to his knees, the ranger blinked his midnight eyes several times to try and keep his consciousness. But darkness slowly overcame his vision, and he collapsed on the once-again indistinguishable floor. Rhiannon's face was the last image to flash before his eyes.

OOP: sorry it's short, but honestly: the guy's been through a lot, I don't know what else to do.

Goats17 · Mar 18, 2006, 05:58 AM // 05:58

No matter, its great anyway. This is an amazing Rp.

Mentalmdc · Mar 19, 2006, 12:37 PM // 12:37

OOC: It seems we've lost quite a few people so to keep story flowing may be good to allow 2 more to join us.

Brother Doug · Mar 19, 2006, 12:57 PM // 12:57

OOC: Just letting people know that I'm not gone! I'm just...really, really busy. I'll try and post when I get a chance.

Ristaron · Mar 20, 2006, 05:48 AM // 05:48

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mentalmdc

OOC: It seems we've lost quite a few people so to keep story flowing may be good to allow 2 more to join us.

I believe you are right. At the moment, we need a new perspective to get added so we can join them. And I have just the person in mind... he sent me a lovely private message a little while back...

LaserLight · Mar 21, 2006, 01:25 AM // 01:25

Quote:

I believe you are right. At the moment, we need a new perspective to get added so we can join them. And I have just the person in mind... he sent me a lovely private message a little while back...

OOC: That would be me. Hello again, guys :-P. Alright, seeing as how the action in the Mists is kinda closed off to much in the way of new people, I'm going to get a redirect line of posts going dealing with the aftermath of the invasion in Ascalon proper while you spirit monkeys deal with the saving-of-the-world crap. Also. I'll be cheating a bit and using a character based on my Pit Fighter concept profession. Apologies if this ruffles feathers, but I'm pathetically eager to see how it works out...XP.

On last thing. I'll be playing a week or so after you guys vanished into the Mists so I can get some basic information going, but don't feel like that stops you from wrapping up yer side. Ahem: Time Moves Differently In There, eh? Anyways, on to the show.

IC:

Greysen strolled easily along the country road leading down to what used to be Fort Ranik, flame-orange hair waving in the breeze as he went. His pace was comfortable and he held the rucksack slung over one shoulder without any sign of strain despite having been carting it around for days. One look at the extreme musculature in the man's body told any observers why, though his clothing and strange appearance would raise more mysteries than his obvious physical superiority.

Greysen stood just over six and a half feet tall, and the grams of body fat on his person could be counted on the fingers of a single hand. Despite his youthful handsomeness, the man's bare chest displayed some truly wicked scars, and he possessed an aura that virtually screamed lethality. The man moved like a fighter who had seen the bad end of one too many battles - which, in more than a few ways, he was. Greysen's history would shock anyone who heard of it, though the big fighter had no intention of letting people hear of it.

Despite this, he retained clothing similar to that which he'd worn just a few weeks before. Loose-fitting pants of a dark red flowed almost to ground level, hiding feet clad in supple leather shoes held on with simple rawhide ties. A heavy, ornately forged belt primarily constructed of solid steel wrapped around the warrior's waist. Greysen didn't wear any clothing on his upper body, substituting a single large medallion on a woven thong around his neck instead. Each arm was wrapped to the elbow with plain white cloth, and over these wraps were heavy leather fingerless gloves, studded on each first knuckle and possessed of a thick metal backing above the hand. Fiery red threads held the gloves together, and someone looking with a touch of Sight would see a potent enchantment on the red lacing.

Combined with his height and sunset-colored hair, and Greysen was a striking man, a man not easily or quickly forgotten even in passing. Sometimes he wished it was easier for him to fade into the background, but even should he dress normally and dye his hair, his movements and sheer height would set him apart. That and dye wouldn't hold a week in his hair, which had been spelled into its unnatural coloration long ago. And so the big warrior dressed as he felt comfortable and put up with the looks and muttered whispers. He'd have gotten them anyways, and at least this way he felt ready to fight if he needed to. Which was important to the fugitive Pit Fighter.

Once again, Greysen's mind turned to the events that had allowed his escape from the slavery he had spent half his life choking on. The recent invasion of Grawl, the savage beasts united under the insane guidance of a man named Duruk, who had attempted to use them to gain control of Ascalon. The numerous factions in the government which had pulled up as many levies of trained fighters as they could - including the private guards of Greysen's former master. Though the man had protested strenuously, both vocally and financially, the panicked government of Ascalon had insisted, and thus deprived the pits of their trained, heavily armed and armored 'custodians'.

Greysen had been the first to take advantage of the situation, easily killing the hiresword employed to keep him in line and bolting from his cell, venting years of torment and rage on anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. It had taken him barely half an hour to find the man who dared to lay claim to Greysen's body as his own property, but it had taken that man an agonizing hour to die. Free inside the elaborate mansion the rich lordling had maintained, Greysen scrounged up the most respectable Fighter's costume he could from the man's stores, a high-quality set made for top-billing fights. During his frantic searches, he'd turned up the gloves as well, discovering that they possessed powerful magics as well as a more reliable and durable guard than any pair of fighting gloves he'd ever seen. Thrilled with the discovery, Greysen had taken the gloves as well, then gone down to the cells which held the lordling's pet fighters between battles, freeing those who deserved to live and killing those who deserved to die.

His last act before leaving Ascalon had been to start the fire that burn the dead lordling's mansion down around his ears.

Greysen shook his head to clear it of the all too palatable memories, and instead concentrated on his painfully scant knowledge of the world he was now a part of. Which, basically, meant the Invasion. Greysen knew little of the particulars, only that a staggering number of Grawl had managed to coalesce into a sizeable army and that only some truly bizarre events had managed to stop them short of their goal. However close they had come however, the Grawl had failed in the end, and their numbers had been decimated in the attempt, and the immediate and savage human reprisals for their actions had cost the Grawl even more warriors. It was doubtful that the beast tribes would threaten Ascalon again for a great many years following this colossal debacle.

Greysen left the Grawl aside for a moment and pondered what little he'd heard of the man responsible for the Grawl's ill-conceived invasion, an ex-Captain Duruk. Apparently Duruk had been a powerful sorcerer as well as a skilled warrior and had used his abilities to force the Grawl Shamans to execute the invasion. Where the Shamans lead, the lesser soldiers followed. Why Duruk had abused the beast tribes so was still a mystery, though a huge percentage of the population believed, quite vehemently, that he'd done it merely to snatch Ascalon's crown for himself.

Greysen didn't believe it, though. If this Duruk wanted a kingdom, there were far easier ways to go about getting one than inciting a devastating war which had half-ruined the very country he was supposedly attempting to rule himself. No usurper worth the title stole a country by force of arms - repairing the damage he himself wrought upon a nation unwilling to accept him as a ruler was well-nigh impossible, and upstarts both stupid enough to try it and lucky enough to pull it off rarely lasted much more than ten years. If that.

So why? Why start a senseless invasion that almost had to result in little more than a lot of spilled blood and destroyed land? Greysen had no clue why Duruk had done what he did, but he did know that no one with the intelligence and force of personality to get this far purely on the power of the beast tribes would do so for the sake of a crown. No, there was another purpose here, a hidden purpose. And it was that purpose which Greysen had sworn to find as the start of his journey towards absolution for what he had been forced to do in the pits.

The ex-Pit Fighter journeyed towards Ranik because that was where the shadowy rumors said had been the last location of a specific group of individuals. These individuals were not widely known, but painfully naive of the ways of the world or no, Greysen knew how to find information sources, and how to bully those sources into giving him what he wanted. The more reliable rumor-mongers he'd dug up had told him (or more accurately told the studs of his fighting glove) that a certain handful of people had been instrumental in the rebuffing of the Grawl's attempted takeover. Of these individuals, only a single name was known - Rhiannon, a young female Monk with strong, if unknown, connections to Duruk, who no one had seen since he'd fled Ranik in failure with Rhiannon hot on his tail. Most thought that the pair had killed each other, due to the life bond Duruk had forced upon the young Rhiannon.

But rumor spoke of others as well. A strange man wearing an ornate blindfold, who could command spirits to do his bidding. A young farm boy turned war hero with a strangely powerful grasp of combat. But most of all, the rumors spoke of a man with black skin and white hair, a ranger who fought with twin slender blades alongside a huge wolf with startling intelligence in its eyes. A man who many said wasn't quite human, and who had organized the pincer attack which had stalled the Grawl long enough to break the invasion. It was this man that Greysen wanted to find, this man which had the best chance of knowing where to start looking for the missing Duruk's true purpose in starting the invasion. And all the reliable sources Greysen had beaten into talking to him said that this man had died in the fighting in Fort Ranik, the only clue to his passing a single surviving short blade. Of the second blade, the great companion wolf, or the body itself, there was no sign, but the mind-blowing number of Grawl the warrior had fought, as well as firsthand accounts of the action, said that the dark man had gone down in a suicide charge on one of the last organized Grawl companies of the invasion.

Greysen didn't believe a word of it. He felt in his gut that the dark man was alive yet. He had to be - his part wasn't yet done. Greysen needed the dark man and his information to start looking for Duruk's purpose, and he would personally follow the man into the Mists and beat him black and blue if he'd had the bad manners to get himself killed before Greysen knew what he needed to know!

Ristaron · Mar 21, 2006, 01:39 AM // 01:39

(( OOC: VERY nice post. Now you see why I remembered you and gave you a call when a spot opened.

I have one question, though... if Duruk was indirectly responsible for Greysen's great opportunity to escape, why would the Pit Fighter need to know a ton of information about him?
I'm sure he had a reason, I look forward to figuring it out.

Now we just need other people to post, my character is a little indisposed at the moment... ))

Goats17 · Mar 21, 2006, 02:41 AM // 02:41

Meaning what exactly? I wanted to join this a long time ago, and if a spot is still open, and you guys are willing to put up with my short(er than yours) posts, I would love a chance to join in.

LaserLight · Mar 21, 2006, 03:28 AM // 03:28

(OOC: Basically Goats, the storyline dealing directly with the Grawl invasion is done, and we need a couple three guys coming in to move things along a bit and get the story over the transition hump. I'm (apparently) planning on doing that by hunting down the reasons behind the invasion in the first place. Work at that enough, and kick Mentalmdc into closing off the Mists arc so she and Ristaron can come back into the land of the living, and things can start up again. But ain't nuttin' gonna happen until we get at least one more guy I can alternate posts with to get this sucker grinding onward again. As for short(er than ours) posts, I'm certain that as long as your language is readable and your storytelling interesting, we can deal :-P. Who knows? Perhaps a good story to sink yer teeth into as all ye need to boot up the word counts.)