Snow Bound

[pennifuin]

Snow Bound

 

The world had gone white. In the static blanc, the fuzzy shadow of our bold explorer moved laboriously through the snow and collapsed in a heap, green against the pure white. Pennifuin wondered to himself how long he had been out here, days, weeks, months? He didnt know, but he did know that he would have to find shelter soon, or be lost to the icy grave that he had been evading for so long. Picking himself up, he removed his shield from his back, and began to dig. Each movement became twice as laborious as the last, and after what seemed an age, he tumbled into the small hole he had excavated. He removed a large fur pelt from his worn leather pack, he cacooned himself, snug in his temporary shelter, hidden from the roaring winds; and the stabbing cold it induced. Drifintg off into slumber, he tried to recollect the last time that he had slept. He could not.

 

Pennifuin awoke startled, where was he? He was barely able to remember anything that had happened, making it feel even more like just some crazy dream. Nothing seemed real.

 

He unwrapped himself from the mangey pelt that he had slept in, it was icily stiff. Packing it away, he looked towards the entrance of the snow hole. Where was the icy roar of the southern winds? He dug himself out hurredly, to find the bright winter sun gleaming down upon his face. It filled him with warmth and rekindled hope, it had felt like so long since he had seen the sun, giver of life. Looking around, he could see that he was on some kind of plateau, mountains reared up in the distance, and to the north he could see black shapes on the horizon. Dotted randomly in the landscape were conifers and other hardy trees, covered in snow, root to highest branch. Pennifuin decided his best bet was to head for the black dots.

 

He trudged on and on through the deep snow, his tracks were like stitchlines across the otherwise unspoilt blanket of white that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The sun rose overhead in the vibrant blue sky. Pennifuin thought it time for a break, he grew weary of walking. Reaching into his pack, he drew out a small handful of salted racoon meat, and ate it sparingly, he didnt know how long it had to last. And so, he carried on through the day.

 

The sun was sinking in the west, Pennifuin cast a long trudging shadow along beside him. The sun sank. Pennifuin sighed and carried on walking. In the failing light, he thought he could see something like smoke billowing from the black shapes that had occupied every moments thought of the day. This spurred him on. Using the stars to guide him (Pennifuin was a skilled and well learned Explorer)he made his way on through the night. Black shapes loomed up in the eerie moonlight, then, as if without warning, he felt the all to familiar howl of the approaching storm. He was too close now, would he make it? did he have the strength to go on? He fumbled his way through the shifting drifts, hands, feet and face bitterly frozen by the wind. And there it was, through the howling ice he could see a yellowish glow, and hear the faint, muffled sound of laughter and singing. He was running on sheer determination now, all his energy spent. With keen eyes and ears fixed, he made for the light.

 

Opening the door the warmth it him like Glydoc's hammer. He collapsed on the oaken floor....

 

((you guys figure out whos there, we need to make another exploration to retrieve my latest discovery))

Edited February 21, 2007 by pennifuin

[Acelon]

Only 15 minutes earlier, Lord Vermor had entered the Trassian Tavern to enjoy a drink after a long journey across the land of the icy gales. He sits down at a table in the corner hoping no one will recognize him and ask for blessings in the form of gifts and money, covering his face with his custom Powersaving cape with a hood. Slowly drinking his coffee, he looks around the tavern and seeing many men and women dressed in full armor laughing, drinking, and showing off their new prized possesion, the fur of an Arctic Chimeran. Vermor sketched the scene, coming up with an idea for a banner. The laughs come to a hault when an elf falls through of the threshold of the tavern, apparently fainted. A woman in the crowd, not armed, goes over to help the traveller. Vermor takes a step closer, trying not to draw any attention to see what was going on and sees his old friend Pennifuin lying on the flower, suffering from the first stages of hypothermia.

 

No one knew really what to do, suggestions were spurted out abouting covering him and and giving him some mead to warm him. Everyone agreeing on that, Vermor stepped forward, still hooded, and stated,

 

"Give him alcohol and it will speed of the effects of his hypothermia." He turns to the barmaid and orders "Give him something with sugar, it will help aid his body in recovering with heat. Also cover him with blankets to save his heat and close that blasted door".

 

No one questioning, or recognizing, the stranger do as ordered, feel it was said with such knowledge it must be right. Kneeling down to his fallen friend, he whispers "Penn, can you hear me?"

 

((My attempt at RP, hope I gave you guys enough opening/backround story to build your characters from ))

Edited January 3, 2006 by Lord_Vermor

[Dark_Nightmare]

A blue-cloaked figure in the corner was sitting quietly, reading a book labled Chimerans and Their Ways. He was at the chapter about Arctic Chimerens, taking a short glance at a succesful hunting-party which had gotten a Arctic Chim, then looked up as a elf fell through the door and collapsed onto the oaken wood. He sat silently, and watched as Lord Vermor rushed over to assist the elf. He knew it was Lord Vermor, but why he was at Trassian, he guessed it was to get less attention. Draegoni are quite solitary, so he wouldn't get much attention here. As he saw Lord Vermor whisper to the elf, he closed his eyes and raised his hand at the elf. He quickly healed Pennifun, but the hypothermia and coldeness, he would have to regain his health himself, for those were feilds of medical things beyond magic. He watched atentively, seeing what would happen next...

[pennifuin]

Pennifuin roused for a few moments, and then drifted back into an uneasy slumber, muttering incomprehensibly and suffering from an unnaturally hot fever. As he lay there shivering, many strange dreams plagued him, frozen wastelands, a ship, a Drageoni, many unfamiliar faces; but what did it all mean? It was 3 days after his abrupt arrival at the tavern, he had not awoken and Lord Vermor had not left Pennifuin's side, save for a tankard of ale which he supped slowly as he assessed and rationalized over the situation, he knew something was up, but what could it be?

[Dunian]

Dunian walked through the deep snow, trying to reach shelter before the snow overtook him. The merry light was shining through the windows as he approached the Trassian Tavern. He opened the door, and closed it swiftly behind him.

He followed the stares of everyone in the room to an elf, lying on the floor bundled up in blankets. "Penn?"

[Dark_Nightmare]

While on the 2nd day of Pennifuin arriving, he crept into the room and inspected Penn. He was wraped in thick furs of Polar Bears, Snow Leopards, and Arctic Chimeras. He put a red, semi-translucent potion on the bedside table and put a snug racoon hat on his head (remember this, most body heat is released through the head, so if one is suffering from hypothermia, put on a thick, warm hat. It will noticeably help). The potion was mineral rich with special herbs that could increase body heat and causes the body to expel a thick, oozing liquid that prevents body heat from escaping the body until the temperature is at normal. He then vanished from the room, and was back at his seat in the main tavern.

 

(Note: It's not visible, and you can't feel it. It's below the skin, and you can't feel it either. So you don't look like a slimy mutant)

Edited December 5, 2005 by Dark_Nightmare

[Brom]

Perhaps we should Merge this RP with our current one, looking for the Jewelled monkeys! We are staying in this tavern afterall!

 

http://www.eternal-lands.com/forum/index.p...ndpost&p=225092

 

BTW. Welcome back Pennifuin, staying long?

[Acelon]

Not leaving Pennifuin's side until he awoke, Vermor spent countless hours at his friends bedside, only leaving for short periods of time. On the third day, he noticed Pennifuin stirring and began to gently shake him until he was fully aware of where he was.

 

"What happened?" Pennifuin said weakly. "You were suffering from extreme damage from the cold, and have been in a coma-like state for the past three days. What were you doing out there anyway?" Vermor replied.

 

Pennifuin just gave a clueless look as if forgetting his past events.

 

"I will give you time to remember, my friend" Vermor said. "I have business here in Trassian, so I must go take care of that now that you are awake. Perhaps our paths will cross later"

 

With that said, Vermor got up from the bedside stool and began towards the door. As he begins to leave, Vermor turns around and points to a small package on the table and then waves goodbye. Pennifuin acknowledges that the package is for him but wonders what Vermor could have left behind for him.

[Brom]

((Ohhh, Whats in the package? Whats in the package? Heh. Are we going to combine our two RP threads or no?...Link above I posted about this thread in that one))

[Acelon]

((I don't really want to merge it, too much reading to catch up on in the other thread. As for the pakcage, who knows...maybe penn will open it and we will all find out))

[pennifuin]

Pennifuin's head was buzzing. He could barely remember the events that had transpired only a few hours before, and wondered where Lord Vermor had actually gone. Recollecting his dear friends departure, his head cleared for a moment and he now remembered the package. It was a peculiar shape, at least 12 inches long wrapped in some kind of soft leather, bound with a short length of twine. Penn stood up, blood rushed from his head and he had to sit down again for fear of falling over. He rose slowly again, cautious, as he was still worse for wear. He shuffled to the table where the package lay, picked it up, shuffled back to the bed and sat down with it upon his knee. He stared for a moment, wondering what Lord Vermor could have left him. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he undid the twine, and carefully he peeled back the leather wrappings and held it up to the light.

 

He recognised it immedietly, but where from, he was still suffering from amnesia brought on by the hypothermia. It was a dagger, of sorts. The blade was purest silver, which shimmered almost magically in the candle light. On it, strange markings followed the rear edge of the blade, until it came to a perfectly formed curling tip. The handle was exquisetly carved from what seemed to be deer antler, and imbedded in it was a single diamond, that shimmered and gleamed even more intensly than the blade. On the handle also was a carving of what seemed to be a horse torso and legs leaping towards the hilt. The hilt should have been the horses head itself, but it had been sheered or broken off a long time ago. Pennifuin pondered over where he had seen it before, and then he remembered; it was his. Lord Vermor must have found it on him whilst he was commatosed. He had found it during the expedition. Then in a flash of thought, it all flooded back to him, overloading his system and sending him into a state of shock. He collapsed on the floor, rousing the bar keep who bustled in through the door and tried to stir the fallen elf.

 

The bar keep took the dagger from Pennifuin's still clenched fist, and lifted him effortlessly into bed. He would be fine in the morning.

 

The sun rose bright and early, and Pennifuin rose with it. Nobody else would be up for a long time. He sat in the tavern for hours, deep in thought, occasionally pawing at the dagger, he was planning something.

 

((i am here to stay on teh forums brom, back in game as soon as we get this mystery wrapped up))

Edited December 5, 2005 by pennifuin

[Dark_Nightmare]

The blue-cloaked stranger was sitting in one of the tavern's rooms, reading a book. He knew that Pennifuin was better, and by the end of the week, he should be strong enough to walk around casually again. He was pondering over what should he do? He had been at the tavern for a week now and was at a loss. He found this remote place was much safer from Isla Prima and Seridia, for he heard that the Curse of Mortos was lifting. He was intruiged by these "gods" that these lands seemed to worship. He also wondered, do they know about the Elemental Magics? Many questions un-answered...

[Acelon]

(( Hey D_N, I don't know whether or not you should bring the stuff from the Curse of the Uncursed into this RP (The curse of mortos was being lifted) since it really won't ever happen, RPing or not ))

[Dark_Nightmare]

((Woah, sorry LV, I make myself feel quite embarassing sometimes ))

[pennifuin]

((leave it in! it adds depth and also in real life people hear rumours etc, doesnt HAVE to be true now does it ))

Edited December 6, 2005 by pennifuin

[Derin]

The doors to the tavern flung open, letting in a rush of chilled air. After a moment four temple guards wearing the typical black and red garments of the Brotherhood of Bane appeared in the doorway. After scouting the premises they turned to face the door.

 

"Hey! Close that door!" the barkeeper shouted. The four guards reached for their swords, but they remained sheated. Then another man entered the Trassian Tavern. He was dressed in white clothes and showed age and weariness.

 

 

"I am the Chronicler of Bane. I seek the elf know as Pennifuin. I bring tidings of grave nature."

 

The temple guards closed the door and posted themselves near it. The Chronicler walked slowly, as if carrying something heavy, up to the barkeeper. "Do you know of an elf named Pennifuin?" he asked.

The barrkeeper looked at the old man with uneasy eyes: "I, I...don't know if..."

He couldn't finish his sentence before....

 

((please continue folks))

Edited January 3, 2006 by Derin

[pennifuin]

"WAIT! no need to lie on my behalf my good man," Pennifuin rose up to his still unsteady feet and continued, "what is it that you desire to talk with me about 'Chronicler of Bane'? have you another less pretentious title perhaps? or should i just call you Derin?" Pennifuin sneered.

[Dark_Nightmare]

((You're older than I thought, Derin. But you give a new light to the old saying: Everyone looks better in a tan, not excluding you ))

 

The doors exploded, nearly off their hinges. The guards had unsheathed their swords almost immediately and almost at the intruder's neck, but it was blocked by a solid-white staff. Then walked in Shadowbane. The bartender was about to explode, but then he saw it was Shadowbane. "Oh, hello Shadow, what can I do for 'ya?" Shadowbane took a short bow to Cindy the bartender and then looked for Derin and Pennifuin...

[Brom]

((You like to take RP strange ways and make grand enterences dont you? ))

[Derin]

((It is not Derin. It is actually the Chronicler of the brotherhood. His real name is never used. Everybody just call him the Chronicler))

 

The temple guard reacted almost as one. Quickly they rushed to defend the chronicler. When the dust settled and the situation was under control they relaxed their stance and fell silent.

 

The Chronicler approached Pennifuin: "I am not Derin, our grand inquisitor is not likely to travel to these accursed lands. His memories if Irilion are still haunting him. I have come on my own behalf."

 

The Chronicler paused, beckoning the partons of the tavern to take a seat. When all were seated, the Chronicler spoke: "During my studies of the constellations and the ancients I came across a strange tiding, or rather. I felt something. Something that I have not known in a long time."

After drawing a sip of his goblet, the Chronicler continued: "There are sinister forces at work here. These forces have yet to show themselves, but when they do we, or rather you, must be perpared. And I'm afraid that you, master Pennifuin have a role to play in this. And the rest of you...."

The Chronicler looked around. "...are now bound to the same destiny as master Pennifuin."

 

The tavern room fell silent, then the spell was broken and shouts and questions filled the the ears of the adventurers.

"Be calm." The Chronicler said in a crackling voice. The room fell sient again. "I will recite to you a poem, and if you value your live you better listen and then try to figure out what this is about. I will try to help you as much as I can."

 

This is the poem the chronicler recited:

 

When the roars of the south dies,

the shadow spawn his lies.

He whisper of the doors to the divine,

but really says: You will be mine.

The dagger of the star he fears,

its blade his mind sears.

When the white horse of the blade return,

the Tarsen guardian may the shadow spurn.

Seek the head of the hilt,

look at the Sedicolis quilt.

[Brom]

((Comming in as one of the guards. Lan Mandragoran Lan for short. Guard and blademaster for the Brotherhood, Weapon: Titanium Long with a sctrach down the lower third of the blade to the tip. There is more story elsewhere if you want it ))

Disturbance

Act: Defend the Cronicler

Act: Prepare

Wait

Thought: False alarm

Act: Return to defensive

Act: Join minds with three others

Act: Sense.

 

Thus was the mental impulses of Lan Mandragoran when the door exploded and a strange man in white strode in. The Cronicler ignored it and continued relating his story, then the poem that accompanied it. Lan had heard the poem before, He did not know where it would lead them but Lan would be ready to the best of his abilites. It was Lan and three others job to defend the Cronicler with everything they had, even to the laying down of their lives, And when the curse of Mortos would bring them back, they would return to their tasks. Forever, until the curse is lifted. To the Brotherhood.

 

Act: Sense

Act: Prepare

Edited December 7, 2005 by Brom

[Dunian]

"When the roars of the South dies..." said Dunian, breaking the silence, who or what would that be refering to?"

[Derin]

The Chronicler looked at Dunian as if he was amused by something, but then his face returned to his grave solemn expression: "I think master Pennifuin has experienced the first part of the prophecy. I think it means the wind. When there is silence the shadowlord can enter the minds of the souls on Draia. I am not entirely sure about this though...."

The Chronicler fell silent as he was waiting for something.

 

One of the temple guards leaned forward to Lan and whispered: "I do not feel too comfortable about this. Do you think we have to go to the same place where this elf, Pennifuin, almost perished?"

Edited December 8, 2005 by Derin

[Brom]

"Cronicler, I am not a scholar, but what I can see of this riddle is as follows:

 

When the roars of the south dies, Could refer to a massive storm raging, such as the one stopping now. Or some old tradition such as a creature guarding something, or a war finally ending, The winter storm makes the most sense right now though.

the shadow spawn his lies. Refering to the great shadow? Do we know anything more about this shadow? Are we meant to think this is Mortos himself? A minion?

He whisper of the doors to the divine, That shadow is after something, "doors divine...humm"

but really says: You will be mine. Plans on taking over or obtaining something, but is not going to do it a direct way.

The dagger of the star he fears, How to defeat this shadow, or at least cause fear, damage.

its blade his mind sears. This blade can do mental damage to this shadow.

When the white horse of the blade return, Hard to say, but it sounds like the blade is imcomplete and needs to be completed first before the shadow can be hurt with it.

the Tarsen guardian may the shadow spurn. The enemy of the shadow is the "Tarsen guardian" but I do not know who or what that is.

Seek the head of the hilt, This is blunt and obvious, so obvious in fact Im concerned we are getting it wrong.

look at the Sedicolis quilt. Is there some famous quilt or pattern in Sedicolis? I have only been here once.

 

 

"Its just the translation through a swordsman's eyes, To me we should start at this Sedicolis quilt and look for clues and possibly the white horse of the blade, whatever that means. I do not think we should backtrace that elf's footsteps, rather go on and see what we can find."

A pause then, "Do we have this blade? I suppose we should examine it first. I am a master of weapons and spent many years in a blacksmith building them before I joined the brotherhood. If we have this blade may I see it?"

Edited December 9, 2005 by Brom

[sora_barzahd]

((Are you going to use the Untold Legends:Brotherhood of the Blade game idea Brom ?))