Recent IC posts and developments

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Ithildur
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Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Ithildur »

((moved from rumor thread

ImStrokerAce posted:))

It was with a steadfast determination that Kalas strode towards the Hills, his bright green eyes staring off at the recent ruination of the Fourthpeak Fort. There could be survivors still cowering in those Hills he thought; huddled in fearsome misery from the vast numbers of Undead that now claimed the surrounding area. He had to look, even if there was a fraction of a chance that he might save a single one from such a horrid fate. He had to look...
It hadn't taken long to find the first pocket of resistance; the shambling ones were easy enough to deal with, their flailing limbs reflected easily off his shield as he struck them down, using heavy swings to bring them low. The wispy form that came out of the rocks caught be surprise, only barely avoiding its chill touch as he hacked it down. Panting heavily; he looked up the trail at a familiar Elven form, as the always impressive archer Torae came into view.
"Nine bloody Hells! There be a face I aint seen in awhile!" The pair reminisced and talked about the recent troubles in the area before setting off towards the Fort.
The whisper from the shadows warned of the trouble ahead, the Elf hidden so well that even the sound of his hushed voice didn't give away his position.
" More of the Wraiths, many more." The concern heard in the voice of the ever steadfast Elf let Kalas know the seriousness of the milling group of spirits on the platform above.
At the base of the dark and foreboding Fort, the priest of Shaundakul began his prayers to his God; He prayed for protection, he prayed for divine strength, and he prayed for his resolve to spread the good word of the Rider of the Winds. He gave one final grin to his Elven friend and companion and charged into the fray; A cry to his God on his lips.
Kalas leaned heavily on his sword, the thrill and drone of battle fading quickly. The chilling touch of the Wraiths had only barely brushed him, but enough so he had felt their sinister pull on his very lifeforce. He glanced up and thanked the Rider for giving him the strength to resist their attempts to turn them into one of their own.
With a weary nod to each other; the pair made their way back down towards Rivermoot...
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something

It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
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Ithildur
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Re: A reunion

Post by Ithildur »

((dergon darkhelm posted))

Toraedhien Starspire's face lit with genuine joy and affection upon recognizing his old friend from places and times past.

Kal was a steadfast warrior with a fierce heart, yet he had about him a lightness of spirit that the elf had found comforting since their first meeting many seasons ago. It pleased Torae a great deal to have this chance meeting with an old friend here in this northern and inhospitable, if beautiful, place near the the Spine of the world.

It took not long before the two past companions began speaking of the troubles beset upon this land of new travel, these "Silvered Marches".

After reminiscing for some time, the two made their way up the northern trail from the river junction.

The undead were thick in those hills, but with Kalas' sword and blessing they were able to make their to the ruined fortress the men named "Fourth Peak". The two dared not linger in the place, however, as the oppressive sense of dread and foreboding that covered the place like a blanked of sodden wool lingered despite the dispatch of the wraiths.


...

Torae was of torn heart as the two descended back toward the Rivermoot. On one hand he was joyed to see an old friend in a strange land and to share words with a man he had grown to trust. Yet he he also felt a heaviness on his heart, a sense that the forces of darkness and death were close at hand ... and that the battle against those forces had only just this day been joined.
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something

It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
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Galadorn
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Re: Recent IC posts

Post by Galadorn »

Willjo has been seen backing up the bridge guards almost every night. He fetches what they need sometimes as he is adamant they cannot leave their posts, and always covers their breaks if they need to leave their post for any reasons.

He continues to be very concerned about the area just West of Rivermoot, the Mausoleum entrance and small graveyard outside, due to the events that he was a part of surrounding the death of the Legion guardsman there several days or so ago. He is often found there, keeping minor Kobold appearances who show up too close down to a minimum, and volunteering to stand at post with the new Legionnaires who have replaced the last guard. He also patrols the Bridge above to get a better view of the surround, heavy crossbow in hand...
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Ithildur »

One of the kobolds picked up the strange, crude stringed instrument and began to strum a strange rhythmic series of dissonant chords, dancing madly for their god. The band of small, reptilian humanoids danced and cackled, shouting praises to Kurtulmak for their victory. It may have been only one human in shiny armor who had been foolish enough to approach their tower of Dooooooom all by himself, but nevertheless it was a victory!

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Unfortunately it turned out to be a short lived victory, as a group of 'ssstinking adventurerssss', led by an experienced and formidable priest of a foul human god, came upon them some time later. Still, the last of the kobolds died with a small grin on his face, knowing that the grease on the ladder had frustrated their foes... and there was always the hope that one of them would step on the trapssss and join them in death...
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something

It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
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Galadorn
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Galadorn »

A lone red bearded Militiadwarf nods as he passes the two bridge guards, this day a serious and sombre look on his face. He approaches Sword Rock Monument - a frown forms as his eyes scan slowly the names of those who perished giving their lives in the defense of Rivermoot. When he finishes whispering their names, he unhooks his family's waraxe, and grips tightly his Legion tower shield, taking a knee and bowing his head he speaks a solemn vigil. Not a vow to take lightly from any dwarven warrior... The men on post stay quiet and listen, then nod sincerely to the dwarf as he rises and backs up a few steps. He then quietly returns to the bridge, grumbles to himself and stands at post joining the men for another long night at watch...

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Ithildur
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Ithildur »

The signs were unmistakable; this was clearly not the usual carnage wrought by the undead things that had been infesting the region of late. Nor were there the usual signs that accompanied the passing through of a Legion patrol, at least a good sized one. Given the state of the corpses that lay on the ground, one or two which were recognized, this could only be the work of a rather large contingent... or skilled adventurers.

Strong, nimble fingers turned the broken item over several more times for examination before pocketing it. Eyes narrowed, the investigator barked out an order.


"We track where they went as far as we can... make sure we cover our own!"

The tall, heavily muscled figure paused, drawing his fell weapon and raising it skyward.

"When we find the ones responsible, they will rue their actions... from the vantagepoint of the afterlife."

With keen senses and strong limbs they began their work. The group shortly departed the scene of the battle with frightening speed, considering they left no signs of passage - neither track nor scent...

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Their passing however, was not entirely unobserved; two strange shapes emerged from shadows undetected even by the group's keen senses, and looked at one another.

One hunt had begun. Another, perhaps, would soon follow.
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something

It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
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ImStrokerAce
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by ImStrokerAce »

The heavily armored and armed pair trod wearily down the steep and winding trail coming into the village of Rivermoot. They were an oddly matched pair, the differences exaggerated even moreso by the rising Sun elongating their shadows. The red-clad Half-orc was truly a fearsome sight for many; a wall of armor and muscle carrying an equally large and imposing double-bitted axe that seemed to glow like steel removed from the forge. The human male walked briskly in front of the crimson behemoth, often glancing rearward to exchange words or shuffle ahead in response to the half-breeds lengthy stride; the blueish tinge of his armor glistening in the growing daylight.
Now; it certainly was not unknown for the locals of the small village to see such oddities as of late; many flocked to the promises of vast rewards promised to those that could end the threat of the Undead menace. Many tales were told and retold about the horrors lurking patiently in the hills and valleys, crevices and caves of the Frost Hills.
With a faint smile and a nod they walked by the guards standing by the bridge that separated the Village from the Tradeway; the gawking stares was worn like a badge of honor by the two.

"What in the hells is that?" One of the Watchmen asked, pointing at the massive silvery white hides that towered over the pair's packs.

" Winter Wolves, was a trio of them bastards up on the Glacier" The man replied, adjusting his pack while doing so.

"And what is that then?" The other guardsman pointed at a battered set of well-made armor on the Half-orcs back.

"That? That be someone who cant outrun or out sneak them Wolves... Aint rightfully sure which" The man fired back as he walked into the town.
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Galadorn
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Galadorn »

Willjo patrols the west bridge above the Mausoleum to the Rivermoot Plantation every day. He carefully patrols the just-North hills practicing his tracklore. He hunts small game as well honing his skinning and animal anatomy knowledge as best he can. He reports to Sergeant Longarm and Wilson after each long shift on any sightings, recent reports are that the undead insurgence has decreased based upon his own investigations. Most days he puts in at least 10-12 hours duty guarding the Mausoleum and standing at post at the Rivermoot bridge and gates to backup posted Militia there...
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Galadorn »

*A note has been tacked up in the Rivermoot Inn that there is a reward for any information regarding the disappearance of Ser Gui de Neuham.*

Willjo nods and asks the barkeeps in the Inn, and all Militia Pikemen and the two Sergeants about the missing Knight, when last seen, as detailed a description as possible. He loads up extra rations for a possible longer patrol than his usual route around Rivermoot in case his investigations lead him further into the Evermoors, underground, or Northward towards High Hold and Ravenwatch Keep. He also leaves word with the Marshall his intentions to seek the missing Knight, and that should any others about be interested he'd value companions in his search...
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Galadorn
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Re: Recent IC posts and developments

Post by Galadorn »

Willjo spends most of the day and into the night honing a large back-chunk piece of Stag beetle shell at the Rivermoot armorer’s workshop. Those present shout and laugh sharing similar tales, until the work is done for that night. He tells the story of how he near lost his left leg to the beast not remembering much after it struck many months ago, and that if it were not for Torae he’d have been under his own resting rock already pushing up nettles. His tales lead into how he wished to honor the beast as much as gain a useful shield from its hide. Willjo thanks the armorer often for the rental of the tools, and passes him several coins in appreciation as well as his promise to help the lad in the future if he needed anything done, shipped, escorted or guarded for his kindness.

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