Snow Bound

[Brom]

((No, To be honest I do not know enough about the legends of the Brotherhood, I should read up if I am going to be playing a character in the brotherhood.))

[Derin]

The Chronicler looked at Lan with an expression of amused awe. "You have picked up a thing or two in your training I see." He paused, looking for Pennifuin, then: "I believe that we have this blade, or at least master Pennifuin has it. If we examine it closely I an sure that this elf.." the Chronicler pointed at Pennifuin "..who is from Tarsengard, might very well be the Tarsen Guardian and that his blade is the blade in the prophecy. And the shadow can be no other than Mortos himself, of that I am fairly sure."

 

The Chronicler fell silent, pondering the conclusions of Lan Mandragoran. Then it must have hit him. The Chronicler spoke in a forced manner as if he was eager to not forget what he had learned:

"The sedicolis quilt might be a pattern in the town of Sedicolis, but it can also refer to a map of Sedicolis. Wonder if there are any feature there that would tie in to this riddle we are tying to solve?"

 

 

((the idea of the poem is to create a jump off point for some kind of search for the nature of why Pennifuin was having such hard times out in the arctic wastes. Everyone can contribute as there is no real answer to the poem/prophecy/riddle. It does implicate that the blade of Pennifuin can be used to stop Mortos excerting his evil sway over the people here in Trassian and that the blade must be made whole again.))

[pennifuin]

Reluctantly, Pennifuin gave up the dagger to the Chronicler, but as he went to sit down again, it was clear that he was eager to have it back, it held much more significance than people knew or assumed.

Edited December 9, 2005 by pennifuin

[Derin]

The Chronicler looked at the blade; "A fine dagger it is, master Pennifuin. I see some markings on the blade. Do you have any idea what they mean? The ancient symbolic language of the old inhabitants of Kusamura jungle use a similar symbol set to mark soething of significance or some directions. Can you tell us anything else about this dagger?"

The Chronicler respectfully handed back the dagger to Pennifuin, waiting for someone to shed light on this mystery.

[pennifuin]

Pennifuin, coughed, stood up and said, 'I have taken this dagger to the far reaches of the known world, and not one Scribe, Witch, Wizard nor historian could identify the markings or make a translation. That is all i know.' Pennifuin sat down, he could feel Lan's and the Chronicler's suspicious eyes on him, they knew he was keeping something from them.

Edited December 15, 2005 by Brom

[Brom]

((Shhh, Im not Brom. Im only a guard with tremendous devotion ))

"Your name Pennifuin?" said Lan directly toward the elf, already knowing the answer. Lan wondered if he had already exceeded his mandate by talking about the profetic sayings, but in this rare occasion he felt he needed to prod this elf. "Your information is of utmost importance, if you have anything, any small scrap or even a theory about this blade. We need it. Here are some questions that might jot your memory."

"Where did you get this blade?"

"When did you get this blade?"

"Have you ever used this blade before?"

The last question was not one that really fit in, but Lan wanted to know if the blade was just a beautiful piece of work or magical in some way. Lan had learned to keep magic far from him. If he needed healing he would find someone, but he himself would stay well away if possible. "Glancing around he saw the Cronicler and looked away, back to his guard mental state.

Act: Sense

Act: Prepare

Edited December 12, 2005 by Brom

[pennifuin]

Pennifuin felt uneasy, he could feel himself sweating under the pressure. The whole tavern had gone quiet, he felt everybody's eyes on him. Wait a second, Pennifuin thought to himself, this Lan fellow may be a mighty swordsman, brave, honest, virtuous, but Pennifuin was of high breeding, he was a highly established Explorer, Scribe and Magician, who was Lan to speak to him like this. Pennifuin rose out of his chair, staired intensly at Lan who was now back at his stool.

'How dare you Lan', he began, 'How dare you question my knowledge, if i say i have said all i know, i have done just that, who are you to question me? Now do your job, I appreciate your input, but not your inputence.'

The Chronicler's brow was furrowed, and Lan's face was stern. Lan was a mighty swordsman indeed and Pennifuin was well battleworn too, nimble, quick of mind and of feet. Pennifuin's knuckles turned white as he gripped the handle of the dagger. Lan's hand was on his sword, ready.

Edited December 14, 2005 by pennifuin

[Brom]

((Ha! Do you want to fight!? Hehe.))

"If I have offended you with questions I am sorry. It is a flaw of mine that I can sometimes be too hasty with words, I simply was insuring we have all the information we can about that blade." Taking two steps toward the Cronicler, Lan ((I think)) said with his head bowed. "I appologize for prodding him for information without asking permission first, I will take any punishment needed under Bane." And with that Lan knelt down on one knee, pushing his opposite fist into the ground, head toward the floor.

Edited December 15, 2005 by Brom

[pennifuin]

"Stand up Lan" said pennifuin, grimacing at his own distasteful show of rudness. "I guess i am still a little tetchy from my illness." For it was true. He may be battlehardened, but a bully and agrovator he was not. Sitting down again, Pennifuin contemplated. He wanted to tell Lan and the Chronicler at least, but not the whole tavern, they were not worthy, they were not ready. Trying to speed up proceedings so that he could speak to the Chronicler and Lan sooner, Pennifuin said

"Well," he stood up once more,"I propose that we should follow up the lead in Sedicolis, we may find something there...we should gather supplies and set out forthwith."

He waited for a response.

Edited December 15, 2005 by Brom

[Derin]

The Chronicler contemplated the turn of events, and then said:

"Pardon the hasty words of temple guard Lan. It is just that we have come a long way to try to shed some light on this mystery and looking at the clues we are simply hoping that you can be that light."

 

The Chronicler turned to Lan: "At ease soldier, you have not offended the the divine rulers of the Brotherhood of Bane. You may assume your duties with our blessings."

 

The room fell silent once again, as everyone waited for a continuation. The Chronicler studied the faces of the patrons in the tavern, and he nodded, almost to himself. Then muttered: "So it has begun"

In a louder voice he said: "I agree, master Pennifuin, we should indeed have supper and prepare to travel to Sedicolis to find some kind of clue. I do not know my way around these parts, so I and my escort will be happy to follow your lead. I will try to advice you to the best of my abilities and these guards," the old sage pointed to the temple guards accompanying him, "will do their very best to keep us from harm."

 

The Chronicler looked content and turned his attention to the meager menu of the establishment, casually waiting for a response from Pennifuin.

[Brom]

Lan stood up and nodded, head bowed for respect. Taking a step back so that he once again stood with his three companions. Two elves and one human. Brador, Asolovan, and Meract. They were all hardened warriors wearing the fine armours that Bane provided for them, and they all knew eachother well. Bane knows they got into trouble when they first came to the brotherhood. Many of the leaders of Bane had tried to split them up because their skills seemed quite high individually, but everytime the four of them were split they grew weak and could not fight even the most basic of foes, when they were united, hardly nothing could beat them. Lan was the mouthpiece as it were for the four of them, he took assignments and relayed them to the other three. When the Cronicler pointed toward them and said "...these guards, will do their very best to keep us from harm." Lan had no need to reinvigorate the other three, they already knew their duty and the statement changed nothing, they were commited one hundred precent to the Brotherhood and its causes.

Act: Sense

Act: Prepare

Edited December 15, 2005 by Brom

[LadyWolf]

((Ha! Do you want to fight!? Hehe.))

"If I have offended you with questions I am sorry. It is a flaw of mine that I can sometimes be too hasty with words, I simply was insuring we have all the information we can about that blade." Taking two steps toward the Cronicler, Brom said with his head bowed. "I appologize for prodding him for information without asking permission first, I will take any punishment needed under Bane." And with that Brom knelt down on one knee, pushing his opposite fist into the ground, head toward the floor.

 

 

((you say you are not Brom, but you refer to yourself as Brom here ))

[Brom]

((Ha! Do you want to fight!? Hehe.))

"If I have offended you with questions I am sorry. It is a flaw of mine that I can sometimes be too hasty with words, I simply was insuring we have all the information we can about that blade." Taking two steps toward the Cronicler, Brom said with his head bowed. "I appologize for prodding him for information without asking permission first, I will take any punishment needed under Bane." And with that Brom knelt down on one knee, pushing his opposite fist into the ground, head toward the floor.

 

 

((you say you are not Brom, but you refer to yourself as Brom here ))

Doh! I slipped!

I purged this document of Brom...er. Yeah, edited and fixed.

Edited December 15, 2005 by Brom

[Derin]

After finishing his meal, the chronicler turned to the adventurers around the table: "I'm going to get a good nights rest. Hopefully we can embark on the journey to Sedicolis tomorrow." After having a short conversation with the guards he left the table for a well earned rest.

 

 

((I don't know if this thread will continue any time soon, it's been 6 days. Anyways, I'll be off for chrismas celebration in a few day = I will be gone for a week starting thursday/friday))

[pennifuin]

pennifuin slurpped down the dregs of his ale, nodded to his companians and set off to his room, the next few weeks would be hard, he could feel it in his well travelled bones. as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was dreaming of far off lands yet to be discovered, of treasure and magnicient riches, and of his own prize, the greatest treasure of them all, his lover.

 

((i'll leave that one open for thought, 'but wait!' you are allllll thinking, 'he doesnt have a girlffriend/wife, who does he speak of?'))

[LadyWolf]

((Think I'll jump in, if you don't mind female that is ))

 

LadyWolf opens the door to the tavern and enters, squinting at the light, shaking the snow off her cloak. She looks around and sees several guards from the Brothehood and an old fellow dressed in white. She realizes that it is the one known only as "The Chronicler"

 

LadyWolf approachs to a safe distance and bows before him momentarily before moving on to the bar. She did not feel like a confrontation with the guards. She knew that she could easily take any of the 3, but she had no quarls with them. She only wanted some hot food, a bath and a warm bed for the night.

 

LW waited patiently for the barkeep to bring her her meal, but couldn't help feeling as if she was being watched. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and noticed that the old man was watching her intently. She turned he attention back to her food that was just being set before her, but couldn't help wondering why he was watching her. She chose to hide her thoughts, unsure if the old man had the ability to channel or not....

[Brom]

(( "... of treasure and magnicient riches, and of his own prize, the greatest treasure of them all, his lover. " what happened to you while at college? Heh. Curious curious.))

 

Bedding down in an empty stall with one of his compatriots was not the annoying part, it was the lovely smell that emminated from under the straw they slept on. The two guards were placed outside because they did not like to spend too much of the Brotherhoods money. So two would stay the night alternating shifts with The Cronicler, the other two would sleep and catch up on sleep. Tonight was Lan's night to sleep.

 

Snore....

 

Bright sunlight was shining down on Lan Mandragoran's face when he awoke. Opening one eye and glancing around he saw the curious thing that was not there when he went to bed. a Beautiful young girl was across the stable, milking the black and white cow the innkeeper kept. Lan rolled over onto his side and then front, pushing himself up from the ground, he said, "Good morning m'Lady, May I help you with that?" What had come over Lan? He would not speak so openly to anyone unless taken by passion in war or love. Lan's heart skipped a beat. This woman had deep brown eyes, warm, caring. Her face was of a perfect smooth, firm body, thin and moist lips. Ugh, Lan looked down to where his saddlebags lay and reached down to pick them up.

"I think you have your own chores to do swordmaster." A clear and warm voice filled his ears, overflowing into his very soul.

"If I may ask M'lady, What is your name? Can it be as beautiful as you are?" Lan paused, relised what he had said and continued placing his saddlebags over his warhorse, Bruther in the nearby stall.

"You flatter me sir, my name is Ali. " Ali said with a playful tone. "And yours sir?"

"Lan" Lan said almost too quickly.

"I..." Suddenly breathless, Lan struggled for words. "I do not mean to offend if I have... I will leave at once so that I do not bother you further from your work."

"The milking is done, but if you are still willing to help me, I could use someone to chop more firewood so that we can warm the commonroom before everyone wakes."

Seeing as Lan's work was already completed he immediately said "Yes, of course. Show me what you would have me do."

A coy smile crossed Ali's face as she picked up the bucket now filled with a heavy creme and strolled toward the back of the house. Lan followed.

[pennifuin]

((no ladywolf, we do not mind some female companionship! *ahem* anyway, oh and brom, you wouldnt believe me if i told you))

[pennifuin]

Sunlight beat down on Pennifuin's naked body as he stirred from his eased slumber. The sheets were back, it had been a stuffy night, unusually warm for the time of year. As he opened his eyes, the light burst into hazy solar rings; he squinted. Bleary eyed, he propped himself so that he slouched, deep in thought, on the edge of the bed. Looking out of the window he could see the chrisp even snow stretching out across the plateua. By the height of the sun, he judged it to be about mid morning. he swiftly got dressed.

 

Walking into the common room, he could see that many people had already roused and that people were being swiftly sent for, this way and that. Looking across the room to the bar, he could see Lan talking intently to one of the maids. The fire roared, people scurried, packed, fetched supplies, or awoke those that were not already woken by the clattering and clunking.

 

By mid afternoon it was well agreed amongst the more experienced Explorers and travellers that they were in fact ready to set off. ((at last!!)) Pennifuin had stayed well out of the cafuffle, only lending his expertise when approached. He sat alone with the Chronicler, by the fire. Not a word was spoken, but both parties watched the flames dance and flicker into strangely familiar shapes; wolves, bears, dragons, centaurs and great ships sailing on roaring seas. The chronicler chuckled to himself then sighed. Leaning over to the elf he whispered:

"It has been a long time since i have seen such wizardry master elf."he chuckled again, and looked at Pennifuin with bright experienced eyes. Penn looked back at him, the fire flared for a moment and then went back to flickering and dancing with a will of its own.

 

((centaurs:P ))

[Brom]

((no ladywolf, we do not mind some female companionship! *ahem* anyway, oh and brom, you wouldnt believe me if i told you))

((Ohh, Ive got to hear it! Send me a forum PM ))

 

Lan was talking with vigor to the woman that he had met just that morning, they had only known eachother for a few hours now, but they had already become great friends, possibly more if Lan could read the woman correctly. Taking the time he longed to be talking to Ali with, Lan looked over at the Cronicler. The Cronicler gave him a stern look and a message sent through the eyes. Lan knew he had to get ready to leave soon. "I love you... I mean I love to speak with you, But I must return to my work, I hope to see you again...I hope to see you again soon." Ali gave him a gentle smile and said, "I cannot wait to see you again master Lan." "Thank you" came a quick reply from Lan, and off he strode. Quickly completing his packing and armouring Lan stripped down to his lower garments and placed his armour on. He did not wear this armour often, A thick leather molded to fit his frame and covered in green snakeskin. It covered most of his skin and still breathed better than most materials, he could also move in it, almost as if he were wearing nothing at all. He mounted his warhorse and trotted in front of the tavern, hand on sword, ready for anything once more. Joining the other that had slept in the stable. The two others were still close to the Cronicler. This was the traditional change of shift. The Cronicler would mount his horse and follow the two already mounted, while the two that had been guarding him all night would get a brief rest while getting ready to catch up. The Cronicler exited the tavern...

[Dunian]

Dunian's horse pawed the snow as the his master mounted. It was a stallion, as brown as his rider's woodland home. He was clad in thick cloth, with his sword buckled onto his back.

 

It was longer than some swords, double-edged and deadly. Forged in the days when war was commonplace, its titanium blade reflected the light of the rising sun. The only ornament of any sort to be found upon it was a saphire on the end of the hilt. A dagger, sharp and deadly, was placed in a small sheath attatched to his belt. He bore no other weapon.

As guards rode infront of the tavern, he moved into line beehind them, and awaited the elf and Cronicler.

[pennifuin]

((all in due course Brom my eager friend.))

 

Pennifuin mounted his snowy steed, and whispered gently in his ear. The horse grunted agreeingly. He was magnificient but not of purest white; he had a sandy brown diamond between his eyes, showing his prestigeous heritage; he was Nurwuin of Irinveron, of a noble and powerful dwindling race.*

 

Pennifuin rode bare back and he had little in the way of supplies and equipment. He carried his stave on his back and rode with a single saddlepack in which he had spare furs, a canteen of water wrapped in polar bear blubber (to insulate it from the cold), a sextant, tinder box (waterproofed by a cunningly made leather pouch of obviously high craftmenship) and also a notebook (in a similar waterproofed sleeve). On the saddleplack was a sheath which held a small (by Lan's definition) hunting knife, not for fighting, but for skinning and cutting with. Also on his saddlepack was scabbard and in that scabbard was an elven sword, made with masterous skills, even by elven standards. The blade was engraved with climbing vines, their creeping tips crawling their way to the tip of the blade. The handle was of pure ivory; simple, yet finished to the highest quality.

 

The strap that held his stave to his back also had a sheath on it, which housed the blade of the Dagger that had raised so much contraversy. Pennifuin looked to the south, to the mountains and bleak wilderness. His breath condensed in the air as he let out a deep breath. It seemed people were setting off and forming an organised line along the track leading from the Inn. The chronicler rode at the head of the line, accompanied by Lan and his fellow guards, who rode in formation behind. Dunian was also there, looking over as Pennifuin made his way into the woods that ran alongside the track. He chose not to ride with the rest of the party, but to stray off the path, ten or twenty feet, he did not feel at ease travelling with so many people, niether did Nurwuin. They had always travelled alone,* just each other for company, and as far as Pennifuin could see, they always would.

 

*if you were wondering where my steed Nurwuin came from, as you may have noticed i arived alone, i will explain later! but he managed to find his way to the tavern.

Edited January 4, 2006 by pennifuin

[Derin]

So they were off. The Chronicler didn't want to lead, but master Pennifuin seemed to think it was a wise choice, so he reluctantly accepted.

 

As he mounted his ragged, yet groomed steed he looked at the party that was heading out. "So it has begun" he muttered and continued in a louder voice: "Lan, keep an extra eye out. I want to know if someone, or something is stalking us."

In his mind he knew that he didn't have to ask such things, but it still felt better to remind his fellow companions of the gravity of their mission.

There was one thought that wouldn't leave his mind. "Will we ever find it?"

 

 

Fire and undeath rained upon the brethren, the flight of stairs led to the ancient causeway. In the circle of flame they passed into the other realm.

Book of Bane, chapter 14, verse 26

 

 

 

((I am back. But I have a numb left arm, due to an accident on my way home from our sumerhouse, so I type really slow. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know and its good to be back again))

Edited January 3, 2006 by Derin

[Niflheim]

((Lord_Vermor, I think you should probably get back into the story and I have an idea of how to do it involving me, with your conscent))

[Acelon]

((Sorry, I'm waiting for a different time to come back in the story, but I'm not sure if your way will fit into my next grand entrance, PM me what you wanted to do to see if it does))