The hammer rang upon the metal, as small sparks flew from the glowing mass that would eventually become the left cuisse of the armour upon which Garlus had his mind set. Garlus slowly wiped his brow as the glow began to fade...and grinned at the sight of the two faces that stood just beyond the range of any errant spark. Wide eyed and in awe, Gruman and Gurdan of Clan Stonebreaker watched Garlus's every move with the metal intently. The twins had entered Durnan's Forge a week before, with several other youths from various clans. The forgesmiths going about their duties seemed more diligent the past week, but also more lighthearted, as if remembering their own first lessons all over again. It was too easy to take great blessings for granted when one has worked many long decades within the heat of the furnace. The other youths spent their time going between the different smithers, and often played where they shouldn't have been playing, tussling sometimes among the massive flagstones that made up the forges floor and earning a great thwack of a measuring stick for their trouble. But Gruman and Gurdan hovered always near Garlus, watching intently and paying close attention. Garlus had told them the first day....
(in dwarven)
Watch. Watch only. Do not ask. Do not tell. Simply watch. Do not be distracted. The mystery and the wonder will unfold before you. The how, the why. Look away, and you may miss it all, for the greatest of things can happen in just one breif moment.
And so the two stood for long hours near the table. Neither said a word as they watched Garlus in his work, nor would they speak for months after. Of coarse, Garlus would speak to them on occassion, of why the metal was folded over a certain way, or how to measure the depth of a pauldron so it would fit the wearer comfortably...
And long after the other youths had taken their midfeast, had come back, and had left again for their own Clans, the two brothers stood patiently, entranced by the fire, the sparks, the hammer. Garlus could not have asked for more, nor for better for that matter. Long after the other youths were bedded down, Garlus and the twins could be seen in the feasthall, finally eating...and eating enough to make up for meals missed. One tall elder...and the two youths that sat on each side of him...all with large grins upon their faces.
The Shine of Blade and Stone
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Long after the final bells' peel had died away, Garlus stood near the smoldering building, watching the moon rise. The rain fell gently, a blessing after the heat...and the smell. The rest had departed their seperate ways...Marcus stumbling away, his clothes burned to rags, some of his skin still slightly blistered....not like the sight within the building.....
Garlus watched as the explosion rocked the building from above the stage...the crowd quickly began to panic. Before squeezing against the wall he saw something fall to the stage from above...the burned body of his friend....he stared in disbelief as the crowd charged at the exit...and he stuck, not being able to move. After long moments...what seemed an eternity to one who has the power to change something, but is completely helpless to do so and can only watch....Garlus wound his way through the crowd....when he reached the stage, Dawn was there by his side, as well as Goodwife Merrymar and the stranger....a breif glimpse and Garlus felt a lump rise in his throat..... Not like this....Moradin please.....not like this... he could not even recognize the burned skin that oozed from the body, the black and dark red crisp....As Dawn began chanting, Garlus prayed in his own mind that it was not too late, as he sought out any immediate threats....and found one.
Dawn receeded hand in hand with Corio toward the bridge....Corio asking after the brute that almost laid Dawn to rest days before.....
Garlus haulted as he heard the fast fall of footsteps and hugged the wall. He had no fear of being seen, as the potion that the gnome in Winter's Edge had sold him had done it's job...Garlus could not even see his own hand in front of his vision. The giant halforc tore by and down the hall, cudgel in hand. Garlus heaved a sigh, and continued down the hall....he felt naked without his armour and shield...but it had been necessary to leave them behind. The brute would have wakened from his slumber had Garlus worn his usual metal trappings. He continued down the hall, rounding the corner...to find Dawn at the entrance, slumped and covered in her own blood, her head a mess. He rushed to her already chanting the words that he had come so used to, clearing his mind until his self faded from his mind. The damage had not killed her, but she was fading fast...the skull slowly mended back to its original form.....her other injuries becoming less severe. She was still in a daze as Garlus picked her up in his arms and wormed through the grate......
Goodwife Merrymar departed alone...Garlus was not sure if the ordeal had treated her well. He had seen much self doubt...perhaps she was out of her element. But her word was given...Garlus had not given his own, but she had. And Garlus knew the worth and power of one's word.
Garlus watched as the explosion rocked the building from above the stage...the crowd quickly began to panic. Before squeezing against the wall he saw something fall to the stage from above...the burned body of his friend....he stared in disbelief as the crowd charged at the exit...and he stuck, not being able to move. After long moments...what seemed an eternity to one who has the power to change something, but is completely helpless to do so and can only watch....Garlus wound his way through the crowd....when he reached the stage, Dawn was there by his side, as well as Goodwife Merrymar and the stranger....a breif glimpse and Garlus felt a lump rise in his throat..... Not like this....Moradin please.....not like this... he could not even recognize the burned skin that oozed from the body, the black and dark red crisp....As Dawn began chanting, Garlus prayed in his own mind that it was not too late, as he sought out any immediate threats....and found one.
Dawn receeded hand in hand with Corio toward the bridge....Corio asking after the brute that almost laid Dawn to rest days before.....
Garlus haulted as he heard the fast fall of footsteps and hugged the wall. He had no fear of being seen, as the potion that the gnome in Winter's Edge had sold him had done it's job...Garlus could not even see his own hand in front of his vision. The giant halforc tore by and down the hall, cudgel in hand. Garlus heaved a sigh, and continued down the hall....he felt naked without his armour and shield...but it had been necessary to leave them behind. The brute would have wakened from his slumber had Garlus worn his usual metal trappings. He continued down the hall, rounding the corner...to find Dawn at the entrance, slumped and covered in her own blood, her head a mess. He rushed to her already chanting the words that he had come so used to, clearing his mind until his self faded from his mind. The damage had not killed her, but she was fading fast...the skull slowly mended back to its original form.....her other injuries becoming less severe. She was still in a daze as Garlus picked her up in his arms and wormed through the grate......
Goodwife Merrymar departed alone...Garlus was not sure if the ordeal had treated her well. He had seen much self doubt...perhaps she was out of her element. But her word was given...Garlus had not given his own, but she had. And Garlus knew the worth and power of one's word.
Last edited by danielmn on Fri Jul 17, 2009 4:08 am, edited 1 time in total.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Garlus rose through the hole as the cloud dissipated. Things were not as he remembered....that was the story of the room as far as it concerned Garlus.
The first time he had seen this room, he had been in the company of Dawn, Goodwife Merrymar, and Madeliene, a new aqcuantance from the college. Curiosity had brought him more than anything...after all, he had paid two hundred and fifty talents to find and gain entry to the place. The amazingly tall halforc was more than happy to let Garlus sweep in his stead while he drank from Garlus's flask and talked with the other three... giving Garlus plenty of time to look around. Animal cages mostly, bears, dogs, roosters...all the animals one would need to have a decent gambling arena for fighting. Many cages, and a ladder with a trap door in the ceiling of the tunnel...leading to .... the room.
A small room, perhaps five paces each way. A bookcase. A sofa. A desk. The shelves of the bookcase are lined with books on animals...training, taking care of....the sofa...well, a sofa. The desk, with papers, and a thick leather-bound ledger lying open. The ledger, upon close and quick examination, reveals business transactions of a less than reputable nature, including but not limited to guard payoffs. And of coarse, a locked desk drawer. And something strange......an outline on the floor....a missing rug...the size and curious shape of a bearskin rug to be exact. A quick examination of all within the room, and Garlus sticks his hands between the cushions of the couch, bringing forth a handfull of silver that has slipped between. He grins, leaving everything else as he has found it, and proceeds back down the ladder....the ladies will not be able to keep the large watcher of the place distracted forever.
The second time he had seen the room, he had come once again unarmored. The Keeper of the gate slept, sitting and slumped against the wall. Garlus moved quietly past and back toward the ladder... Once again up, moving the wooden trap door, and into the room.
What Garlus has come for still remains open with no new entries on the top of the desk. Garlus furrows his brow as he looks about the room...he thinks something is off but cannot quite tell what. He mutters in dwarven, and through his eyes, the couch begins to glow...an aura surrounds it. Arching a brow, Garlus proceeds to open a small case, bringing out a scroll of sorts. Reading the scroll aloud, Garlus chants once again in dwarven, but nothing seems to happen. He frowns, then shrugs, proceeding to the desk. He quickly grabs up the ledger, stowing it in his pack. He then tests the drawer of the desk, then takes his axe and begins to pry the drawer open. A small sound of metal breaking as the lock gives way, and the trap within is sprung...a dart flies from the inside of the drawer and stabs the hapless dwarf in the arm. He winces slightly, but remains silent, hoping the noise has not woken the great beast. He reaches inside the drawer, taking out many small darts and a bottle. He had not come for this, but now that he knew it was here, it would probably prove more useful than the ledger itself. He yanks the dart out of his arm, and then plants the dart into the top of the desk. He eyes the couch, still faintly glowing, with a frown, and kicks it. The couch responds by wrapping itself around his leg...turning liquid, then pouncing on the poor dwarf. Garlus struggles to break free of the now alive couch, and jumps clear down the traphole to the floor below...silent and somewhat gracefull. However, the couch is not so silent, as it tries to get to it's quarry, banging around inside the room. He drinks the potion he has saved for just this sort of event, right before the brute comes running around the corner and he hugs the wall.
The third time the dwarf entered the room, he had come armoured and after a head. Perhaps the human that had the real sword on stage, perhaps the brute Mungo, who had set fire to the stage. The bastard had almost killed the two closest people to Garlus outside of kin, and he was for blood.
Two Tyreans lay dead at the bottom of the ladder, their heads smashed in. Garlus bends over, grabbing one of the longswords that one of the poor men had used, and tries to move the trap door, with no success. Something is on top of the door.
Garlus grins, taking out his flask. What was previously used to ease the concern of the brute, would now be used to get him. Garlus splashes the highly intoxicating dwarven spirits onto the bottom side of the trap door, then sets his wall of a shield aside, taking out his crossbow. Removing a bolt previously purchased to combat diseased dead, Garlus sets fire to the wooden trap door, and waits. Listening, Garlus can hear breathing above, and quickly unties a small bag from his pack, loosing the strings on it and tossing it up and into the room. Coughing comes as the powder escapes the bag, enough time bought for Garlus to climb the ladder without ending up like the Tyreans below.
The room is a mess. The couch is torn asunder, the bookcase is tipped over, the desk in another location. Books and papers litter the floor, and the towering half orc Mungo stands coughing, baring a long wooden cudgel. Garlus asks for his surrender, in vein. The two begin the dance of death...two warriors locked in one moment for all of time.
The first time he had seen this room, he had been in the company of Dawn, Goodwife Merrymar, and Madeliene, a new aqcuantance from the college. Curiosity had brought him more than anything...after all, he had paid two hundred and fifty talents to find and gain entry to the place. The amazingly tall halforc was more than happy to let Garlus sweep in his stead while he drank from Garlus's flask and talked with the other three... giving Garlus plenty of time to look around. Animal cages mostly, bears, dogs, roosters...all the animals one would need to have a decent gambling arena for fighting. Many cages, and a ladder with a trap door in the ceiling of the tunnel...leading to .... the room.
A small room, perhaps five paces each way. A bookcase. A sofa. A desk. The shelves of the bookcase are lined with books on animals...training, taking care of....the sofa...well, a sofa. The desk, with papers, and a thick leather-bound ledger lying open. The ledger, upon close and quick examination, reveals business transactions of a less than reputable nature, including but not limited to guard payoffs. And of coarse, a locked desk drawer. And something strange......an outline on the floor....a missing rug...the size and curious shape of a bearskin rug to be exact. A quick examination of all within the room, and Garlus sticks his hands between the cushions of the couch, bringing forth a handfull of silver that has slipped between. He grins, leaving everything else as he has found it, and proceeds back down the ladder....the ladies will not be able to keep the large watcher of the place distracted forever.
The second time he had seen the room, he had come once again unarmored. The Keeper of the gate slept, sitting and slumped against the wall. Garlus moved quietly past and back toward the ladder... Once again up, moving the wooden trap door, and into the room.
What Garlus has come for still remains open with no new entries on the top of the desk. Garlus furrows his brow as he looks about the room...he thinks something is off but cannot quite tell what. He mutters in dwarven, and through his eyes, the couch begins to glow...an aura surrounds it. Arching a brow, Garlus proceeds to open a small case, bringing out a scroll of sorts. Reading the scroll aloud, Garlus chants once again in dwarven, but nothing seems to happen. He frowns, then shrugs, proceeding to the desk. He quickly grabs up the ledger, stowing it in his pack. He then tests the drawer of the desk, then takes his axe and begins to pry the drawer open. A small sound of metal breaking as the lock gives way, and the trap within is sprung...a dart flies from the inside of the drawer and stabs the hapless dwarf in the arm. He winces slightly, but remains silent, hoping the noise has not woken the great beast. He reaches inside the drawer, taking out many small darts and a bottle. He had not come for this, but now that he knew it was here, it would probably prove more useful than the ledger itself. He yanks the dart out of his arm, and then plants the dart into the top of the desk. He eyes the couch, still faintly glowing, with a frown, and kicks it. The couch responds by wrapping itself around his leg...turning liquid, then pouncing on the poor dwarf. Garlus struggles to break free of the now alive couch, and jumps clear down the traphole to the floor below...silent and somewhat gracefull. However, the couch is not so silent, as it tries to get to it's quarry, banging around inside the room. He drinks the potion he has saved for just this sort of event, right before the brute comes running around the corner and he hugs the wall.
The third time the dwarf entered the room, he had come armoured and after a head. Perhaps the human that had the real sword on stage, perhaps the brute Mungo, who had set fire to the stage. The bastard had almost killed the two closest people to Garlus outside of kin, and he was for blood.
Two Tyreans lay dead at the bottom of the ladder, their heads smashed in. Garlus bends over, grabbing one of the longswords that one of the poor men had used, and tries to move the trap door, with no success. Something is on top of the door.
Garlus grins, taking out his flask. What was previously used to ease the concern of the brute, would now be used to get him. Garlus splashes the highly intoxicating dwarven spirits onto the bottom side of the trap door, then sets his wall of a shield aside, taking out his crossbow. Removing a bolt previously purchased to combat diseased dead, Garlus sets fire to the wooden trap door, and waits. Listening, Garlus can hear breathing above, and quickly unties a small bag from his pack, loosing the strings on it and tossing it up and into the room. Coughing comes as the powder escapes the bag, enough time bought for Garlus to climb the ladder without ending up like the Tyreans below.
The room is a mess. The couch is torn asunder, the bookcase is tipped over, the desk in another location. Books and papers litter the floor, and the towering half orc Mungo stands coughing, baring a long wooden cudgel. Garlus asks for his surrender, in vein. The two begin the dance of death...two warriors locked in one moment for all of time.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Garlus slowly looked back across the river as Rathalan made his way to his temple. Brow furrowed, the smoke from his pipe slowly wafted into the air as his eyes searched the docks for anything unusual. More and more he tired of the humans, more and more he enjoyed Fardnosts' company, even if he was a Golder. The man had actually sought him out to aid in the killing of the host of the tower, as well as the female...perhaps they were one and the same as he had said. No doubt they would reveal their true intentions in time...and it was Rathalans duty to protect the people. Garlus had no interest in striking if an arrangement could be made, as long as those within the tower remained peaceable. This did not mean he would not be watching the place closely, of coarse....
Garlus had other concerns at the moment. The damnable theives would not leave the people alone....first the kidnapping and ransom, then the brutal beating and robbery of the human...the human was of no consequence to him, he had lived through the ordeal. Garlus had not even given a name, once he saw father and daughter reunited, he walked away as quietly as he could...he had no need for the thanks of humans. The guard itself, comprised mainly of the worshippers of Rathalans own god, did little to nothing about the situation as it grew steadily worse within the city. Perhaps the information he had recieved was right... promoting and then quashing chaos in order to rise in power and influence...eventually to control. The ledger found within the bear garden itself leant weight to the idea...it was obvious the guard were paid to look the other way whilst certain things happened within the confines of the city wall. Garlus shook his head, rising heavily to his feet. He wound his way up to Ironshields to speak with Rundarr, and perhaps work on some armour. It was not long ago he caught the halfmen trying to burrow under the smithy...Garlus was keen to split his attentions between the Smithy, The Hammer and Helm, and Isoliah's. Let the humans concern themselves with human problems. He had his own to protect. He shook his head....sleep had not come...in a long while. Dawn needed to be found....perhaps this angry spirit could be found.
Garlus had other concerns at the moment. The damnable theives would not leave the people alone....first the kidnapping and ransom, then the brutal beating and robbery of the human...the human was of no consequence to him, he had lived through the ordeal. Garlus had not even given a name, once he saw father and daughter reunited, he walked away as quietly as he could...he had no need for the thanks of humans. The guard itself, comprised mainly of the worshippers of Rathalans own god, did little to nothing about the situation as it grew steadily worse within the city. Perhaps the information he had recieved was right... promoting and then quashing chaos in order to rise in power and influence...eventually to control. The ledger found within the bear garden itself leant weight to the idea...it was obvious the guard were paid to look the other way whilst certain things happened within the confines of the city wall. Garlus shook his head, rising heavily to his feet. He wound his way up to Ironshields to speak with Rundarr, and perhaps work on some armour. It was not long ago he caught the halfmen trying to burrow under the smithy...Garlus was keen to split his attentions between the Smithy, The Hammer and Helm, and Isoliah's. Let the humans concern themselves with human problems. He had his own to protect. He shook his head....sleep had not come...in a long while. Dawn needed to be found....perhaps this angry spirit could be found.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Garlus grimly swung the hammer down upon the glowing metal. Sweat poured from his exertions as he slowly shaped the poleyn into the desired form. Drawn in on himself, he barely noticed the happenings around...perhaps because of the lack of sleep, perhaps because of Fardnost, perhaps because of the theives, perhaps because of....many things he had no control over. He furrowed his brow as he concentrated, it felt good to have something under his hand he did have control over. Something he could do, that he had an affect upon. Of living beings, he had given over long ago...but within the forge itself, he had dominion. Where others controlled beings to their own ends, Garlus controlled the temperature of the forge, the bend and strength of the metal. He slammed the hammer against the metal, beating at all of the things which infuriated him, all of the things which had slowly grown to irritate him. He folded the metal, as he folded further in upon himself.
The rites had been given, Fardnost laid to rest. It seemed unfit that he should be buried not among his own kin, but among the Shields of Felbarr. In time, perhaps, the stone sarcophagus could be delivered to his own halls. Garlus had spent many days beside the resting place. Oft Gemsetter would come and leave food and water, but Garlus barely ate. A slow anger burned within, and he waited for that anger to fade, as does the heat of the forge. To walk that path....he had seen. Those whose hate had turned them into cold shells of purpose....and those whose duty had done likewise. He rose to leave only when the blame within had died...both his own blame and the blame he placed on others.
In no shape to be seen by those he knew, Garlus began the ending of what was to be the finest armour he had ever wrought. For many moons had he worked on and off on the Kaxanar's shell...soon it would be complete. Soon he would give up his dominion, and once again trudge into the world of man and be the beast of burden, the gem buyer, the solid wall to stay behind, the giver of gifts, the listener of hearts...but for now, he would be a dwarf, among dwarves.
Fardnost....the image of Goodwife Merrymar's face came into his head for some strange reason, as he struck the glowing metal with a solid blow.
The rites had been given, Fardnost laid to rest. It seemed unfit that he should be buried not among his own kin, but among the Shields of Felbarr. In time, perhaps, the stone sarcophagus could be delivered to his own halls. Garlus had spent many days beside the resting place. Oft Gemsetter would come and leave food and water, but Garlus barely ate. A slow anger burned within, and he waited for that anger to fade, as does the heat of the forge. To walk that path....he had seen. Those whose hate had turned them into cold shells of purpose....and those whose duty had done likewise. He rose to leave only when the blame within had died...both his own blame and the blame he placed on others.
In no shape to be seen by those he knew, Garlus began the ending of what was to be the finest armour he had ever wrought. For many moons had he worked on and off on the Kaxanar's shell...soon it would be complete. Soon he would give up his dominion, and once again trudge into the world of man and be the beast of burden, the gem buyer, the solid wall to stay behind, the giver of gifts, the listener of hearts...but for now, he would be a dwarf, among dwarves.
Fardnost....the image of Goodwife Merrymar's face came into his head for some strange reason, as he struck the glowing metal with a solid blow.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
The hammer slammed upon the glowing mithril. The anger would not leave. Raulk was gone. The hammer slammed down again, harder, the sparks flying. The others of the forge had left him alone for days. Not even the young apprentices would near him. The hammer slams down.
A warding. He had found Raulk and Kusil days before within the safety of the legion outpost of Fourthpeek. Dead. Both. Left there for dead. It had been many days since his trips to Settlestone and Felbarr, but he returned to the silence of this place, drawn to it as if drawn to ore. As the morning sun arose within the sky, Garlus offered his prayers of morning, drawing with the char from last eves fire runes of warding upon the stones of the fort itself. But unlike previous times, he was answered, as the runes began to glow, and then slowly melted away, in their place...a small ruby.
The hammer flashed down even harder, sparks from the slowly shapen glowing ingot flying about the dwarves face, as he gritted his teeth, wild eyed.
Dead kin, so close to Felbarr itself. He delivered the body, searched for the others. Two halflings and a gnome.....He handed over the hammers to the faenor, and they made the treck toward the city.
The hammer falls heavier, the glowing metal groaning under the brute force of the blows, as the enraged dwarf strikes again and again...
To die. Under the earth. Dumathoin's punishment for his carelessness. Dumathoin's punishment for his abandon. Do you forget your duties so quickly, Talhund, when rocks are near? Do you love them...perhaps...too much?
The hammer forms a crack, and still the dwarf swings.
The Kaxanar fell to the beetle, as Garlus did battle with it. No....not under his watch....
The hammerhead snaps from the body and goes spinning off into the forge, as Garlus quivers with rage. It is said his scream could be heard all of the way to the festhall....
NO MORE!
A warding. He had found Raulk and Kusil days before within the safety of the legion outpost of Fourthpeek. Dead. Both. Left there for dead. It had been many days since his trips to Settlestone and Felbarr, but he returned to the silence of this place, drawn to it as if drawn to ore. As the morning sun arose within the sky, Garlus offered his prayers of morning, drawing with the char from last eves fire runes of warding upon the stones of the fort itself. But unlike previous times, he was answered, as the runes began to glow, and then slowly melted away, in their place...a small ruby.
The hammer flashed down even harder, sparks from the slowly shapen glowing ingot flying about the dwarves face, as he gritted his teeth, wild eyed.
Dead kin, so close to Felbarr itself. He delivered the body, searched for the others. Two halflings and a gnome.....He handed over the hammers to the faenor, and they made the treck toward the city.
The hammer falls heavier, the glowing metal groaning under the brute force of the blows, as the enraged dwarf strikes again and again...
To die. Under the earth. Dumathoin's punishment for his carelessness. Dumathoin's punishment for his abandon. Do you forget your duties so quickly, Talhund, when rocks are near? Do you love them...perhaps...too much?
The hammer forms a crack, and still the dwarf swings.
The Kaxanar fell to the beetle, as Garlus did battle with it. No....not under his watch....
The hammerhead snaps from the body and goes spinning off into the forge, as Garlus quivers with rage. It is said his scream could be heard all of the way to the festhall....
NO MORE!
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Very Good 
...Nothing like a Angered Dwarf for entertainment..unless he is Angry with you 
...Nothing like a Angered Dwarf for entertainment..unless he is Angry with you 
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
nothing to see... its just another normal dwarven smith 
well written and a very good read
well written and a very good read
DM viigas (TSM)
Retired toon: Faenor Bital
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when online: GMT thursday 2130-0230 + when RL allow me
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granite stonejaw:
- damn, I didnt mean to drink
Retired toon: Faenor Bital
-----------------------------------------------------
when online: GMT thursday 2130-0230 + when RL allow me
-----------------------------------------------------
granite stonejaw:
- damn, I didnt mean to drink
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
It was the first time in many years Garlus had turned away when help was asked. He could see the man's pleading eyes still, as the sun slowly crept upon the horizon. He was right though....the only one he truely trusted that was not of his own was Marcus. Everything kept swirling in a changing cloud. He trusted the man with pleading eyes to a point, but he had too many faults to trust completely...took the easy path too often. Easy it was to hate, to cut, to blame. He watched the sun rise slowly. His heart was filled with none of these things...but neither would he be abused. Nor would he be pointed to for the reasons why things were the way they were. He was a stone to be leaned upon, not a foundation to be built upon and then blamed for the crumbling when bad morter had been used. She had turned away on the bridge. She had chosen. She went to the man with pleading eyes, not him, with her problems. He has said her changing had more to do with Garlus than himself. Blaming the foundation. No, it was her own. He HAD been there for her, when she sought help. If she chose to seek help from another instead, he could do nothing but let it be. Do nothing but let her walk her path, as he had done so many times before. He placed blame on nothing, it was her path to walk. He hoped she would come clear of it, but neither was it his place to force change when it was not asked for. And trust was something given...and could be abused just as easily, as well as taken back.
Whom do you trust now, Garlus of Clan Ironbeard? Whom will abuse you? Who will offer their hand, when you ask, when that day comes? Will you offer your hand to those who do not ask for it? Refuse to offer your hand when it is needed? He needed you. Or did he? He was content not to speak of her before you yourself mentioned her, content perhaps to let you go up the Pass had you not mentioned her. She went to him. If he failed, he can blame you all he wants. You saw her through the loss of Thoron, the loss of her child, the alienation of the church, and even when her faith was lost, when she let you. You've done what you could without forcing the change.
Whom do you trust now, Garlus of Clan Ironbeard? Whom will abuse you? Who will offer their hand, when you ask, when that day comes? Will you offer your hand to those who do not ask for it? Refuse to offer your hand when it is needed? He needed you. Or did he? He was content not to speak of her before you yourself mentioned her, content perhaps to let you go up the Pass had you not mentioned her. She went to him. If he failed, he can blame you all he wants. You saw her through the loss of Thoron, the loss of her child, the alienation of the church, and even when her faith was lost, when she let you. You've done what you could without forcing the change.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
The blond strode from the direction of Rauvenwatch, her once bright armour now darkened beyond recognition in the dancing flames of the guards torches. She stared across the water a long moment, and then turned to the guards.
"You know you are in danger because that spirit wants alyra, yes? She could give herself up....save everyone...she won't, though." She turned to stride off....and her gaze caught the watcher from above.
Garlus stood on the ramparts, looking out over the river through a bronze tube...ironic actually. He had bought the peice more than a year ago for Thoron...but the elf had left it with him when he left for the High Forest...returning home. Since then....she had twisted. And these were the last words Garlus would hear from Dawn Shiningeye, once a very close friend, and someone he called sister. To let her walk her path....
he had no reason to stop her. She had become what she had become. In the end, things do work that way...you either have the iron, or you don't.
Days later, a Knight messenger brought word through the Hold that Lady Dawn had been stricken down whilst attacking a Knight in Silver outpost. Garlus was struck heavily...he really had not known just how far she had fallen, but that was to be expected. She had stopped confiding in him moons ago, when she turned to Corio on the bridge. Garlus himself had just come from the cells, the only place he could find for a quiet place to write since the undead had closed off the inn across the river..and to watch over Venrill. Corio followed the Knight messenger, himself covered in dried blood. Of coarse, Corio stood in between Garlus and the messenger, glaring down at him as if to prove a point. Garlus merely took a step to the side to hear what was being said, he really didn't give two shits weather Corio blamed him or not.
"Will you help me now, to make this right?" Corio asked, still starring down at the dwarf. Garlus ignored him. Corio was much like Rathalan...Never wrong, and always willing to shove someones nose in it if they thought otherwise. Garlus wasn't about to start up with him so close to his lovers death....he might end up doing stupid and Garlus would have to put him down. As the messenger left, and the others began to discuss the situation, Corio broadcast his own thoughts, to any who did care. "Any who shall speak ill of Dawn Shiningeye ... I challenge you to honest combat to the death, in honor of her name, her honor ... and her memory." Dumb shit was itching for a fight in the name of chivilric honor or some other nonsense that didn't even apply to him.
Garlus merely retorted... "Yeh best catch ehp whit aht Knioght ehn." That shut him up.
In truth...Dawn had died for him months ago. As the others showed sympathy for the man, Garlus replied.... "Taint feel sarrah fer ehm. Tink I'll gah see ehr." Just because she turned into what she was, didn't mean he couldn't celebrate what she had been....once....before.
"You know you are in danger because that spirit wants alyra, yes? She could give herself up....save everyone...she won't, though." She turned to stride off....and her gaze caught the watcher from above.
Garlus stood on the ramparts, looking out over the river through a bronze tube...ironic actually. He had bought the peice more than a year ago for Thoron...but the elf had left it with him when he left for the High Forest...returning home. Since then....she had twisted. And these were the last words Garlus would hear from Dawn Shiningeye, once a very close friend, and someone he called sister. To let her walk her path....
he had no reason to stop her. She had become what she had become. In the end, things do work that way...you either have the iron, or you don't.
Days later, a Knight messenger brought word through the Hold that Lady Dawn had been stricken down whilst attacking a Knight in Silver outpost. Garlus was struck heavily...he really had not known just how far she had fallen, but that was to be expected. She had stopped confiding in him moons ago, when she turned to Corio on the bridge. Garlus himself had just come from the cells, the only place he could find for a quiet place to write since the undead had closed off the inn across the river..and to watch over Venrill. Corio followed the Knight messenger, himself covered in dried blood. Of coarse, Corio stood in between Garlus and the messenger, glaring down at him as if to prove a point. Garlus merely took a step to the side to hear what was being said, he really didn't give two shits weather Corio blamed him or not.
"Will you help me now, to make this right?" Corio asked, still starring down at the dwarf. Garlus ignored him. Corio was much like Rathalan...Never wrong, and always willing to shove someones nose in it if they thought otherwise. Garlus wasn't about to start up with him so close to his lovers death....he might end up doing stupid and Garlus would have to put him down. As the messenger left, and the others began to discuss the situation, Corio broadcast his own thoughts, to any who did care. "Any who shall speak ill of Dawn Shiningeye ... I challenge you to honest combat to the death, in honor of her name, her honor ... and her memory." Dumb shit was itching for a fight in the name of chivilric honor or some other nonsense that didn't even apply to him.
Garlus merely retorted... "Yeh best catch ehp whit aht Knioght ehn." That shut him up.
In truth...Dawn had died for him months ago. As the others showed sympathy for the man, Garlus replied.... "Taint feel sarrah fer ehm. Tink I'll gah see ehr." Just because she turned into what she was, didn't mean he couldn't celebrate what she had been....once....before.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Nice dan..very Good
Re: The Shine of Blade and Stone
Garlus puffed on his carved stone pipe as the wind whipped at him, making his cloak and beard float within it's cold embrace. He paid the bitter cold little mind as he stared out from the ramparts of the Anvil. He was glad of the reprieve he had finally recieved...it had been long months being involved in the affairs of lowlanders. If it were not for the fact that the elven ruins had turned up so close to the doorstep of Felbarr, Garlus doubted he would have involved himself at all...except also for the fact that Marcus was involved. The night was quiet, which was what Garlus needed. He had not taken away much from the experience under the earth...the real impact came with the travelling...the...past revealed to him...the alternatives revealed to him. He would need a long long time to fully digest all that he had seen within his own mind.
In truth, he had helped little during the Dean's tests that led up to the travel. He had traveled to the human and elf logging town with Aashton to gather some sort of regeant..the belly of some beatle. He had helped..or perhaps just accompanied, Marcus into the crypts of the great city itself to witness a great battle of dragons, and had almost been buried alive after traveling through a portal to the plane of Grumbar. The more he saw of these tests, the more he disagreed and abhored them, as they were in and of themselves a very dangerous way to test the young mages of the college. He had been vocal enough in his disagreement when he had hammered his greivances into the door of the university, though that act had only prompted the Dean to visit Warcrown, in turn involving Garlus further in the whole affair, though an agreement was reached that would later prove a gain at a loss, as Silvertrails death whilst defending Aashton would lead to a dwarven claim on the portal that lead to the plane of earth Garlus was nearly buried alive in. Garlus had been ordered to keep an eye on the mages and their activity once it was found that these elven ruins that were behind the whole testing of the mages were right on the steps of Felbarr. Garlus was not pleased with the assignment...he had no interest in elven ruins, or in risking his own life for the sake of the foolish humans in the University or the elves that sought their past. But one never voices ones own opinions to a King when one is told to do something....not if one values one's own head. In fact, to be ordered by Warcrown to partake in a task was an honor of its own, and one not lightly declined. Garlus grudgingly accepted the task, if just to make sure his people were represented in the struggle, and to make sure Marcus lived through the ordeal.
In truth, he had helped little during the Dean's tests that led up to the travel. He had traveled to the human and elf logging town with Aashton to gather some sort of regeant..the belly of some beatle. He had helped..or perhaps just accompanied, Marcus into the crypts of the great city itself to witness a great battle of dragons, and had almost been buried alive after traveling through a portal to the plane of Grumbar. The more he saw of these tests, the more he disagreed and abhored them, as they were in and of themselves a very dangerous way to test the young mages of the college. He had been vocal enough in his disagreement when he had hammered his greivances into the door of the university, though that act had only prompted the Dean to visit Warcrown, in turn involving Garlus further in the whole affair, though an agreement was reached that would later prove a gain at a loss, as Silvertrails death whilst defending Aashton would lead to a dwarven claim on the portal that lead to the plane of earth Garlus was nearly buried alive in. Garlus had been ordered to keep an eye on the mages and their activity once it was found that these elven ruins that were behind the whole testing of the mages were right on the steps of Felbarr. Garlus was not pleased with the assignment...he had no interest in elven ruins, or in risking his own life for the sake of the foolish humans in the University or the elves that sought their past. But one never voices ones own opinions to a King when one is told to do something....not if one values one's own head. In fact, to be ordered by Warcrown to partake in a task was an honor of its own, and one not lightly declined. Garlus grudgingly accepted the task, if just to make sure his people were represented in the struggle, and to make sure Marcus lived through the ordeal.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
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Blindhamsterman
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