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Story Hour
The Journey across Midnight (Updated 07SEP03)
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<blockquote data-quote="Tokiwong" data-source="post: 1099402" data-attributes="member: 961"><p><strong>The Task at Hand</strong></p><p></p><p>Corine trained her arrow on the Dorn as he drug his companion from the water, wrapped a quick bandage around his chest to stymie the black-red blood. She spoke harshly, “Identify yourself stranger,” not sure yet if she was dealing with a friend or foe, the man had only one choice, to give her honest answers.</p><p></p><p>The Dorn looked up and scowled, but his scowl turned to a grimace as he realized he was wounded as well, “Dae, my friend and I are injured, and I am not your enemy.”</p><p></p><p>She glanced down to the dworg, his body still, and his breathing slight. She kept her arrow trained on Dae, as he held up his empty hands, and stepped back trying to appease the woman as best as he could. Corine spoke again lowering her arrow, “You fought and killed orcs, for now we are on the same side. Help me carry your companion, I know a safe place,” as she thought, <em>at least safe as any place can be in these lands</em>.</p><p></p><p>Dae nodded and helped Corine lift the dworg; the two humans carried the large half-breed into the woods, and along a faint trail, as quickly as they could. Dae’s arms ached, and his injuries wrought great pain across his body, as he struggled to keep pace with the smaller woman. The two made haste under cover of the thick canopy of trees, and the darkness of the moonlit sky. Until they arrived at the woman’s safe haven, a ruined and forgotten tower.</p><p></p><p>Inside were several individuals, some of them reaching for their weapons as the trio entered the tower. A dwarf reached for his warhammer, his long brown beard braided in several place, singing freely over his dwarf wrought chainmail. Another Dorn stood, his head shaved, and tattoos adorning his bare arms, lifting a well-kept bastard sword, towards the three. A halfling carrying a spear stood as well, more so because the others did, then out of any alarm, it was obvious fighting was not his best trait. Another human of Erenland stock, stayed seated, his eyes watching the scene with great interest and worry, but thankfully Corine pulled her hood back, allaying some of the fear and suspicion in the room.</p><p></p><p>Corine cleared her throat, “Relax Borca, Salas, they are with me, we just fought some orcs out near the Eren, a patrol from Hope Point.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf grinned, “Aye I see you keep busy, it seems like you have a penchant for picking up strays,” as he lowered his warhammer, and rested his hand on the hilt of his short blade, the bottom fitted with midnight black jewel. Salas sat back down, resting his blade across his knees, and closed his eyes, but his ears were still alert.</p><p></p><p>Corine and Dae place the dworg on the floor, clearing a place for the wounded warrior, the slim human male and approached the dworg, “His injuries are grievous, but this dworg seems to have somehow held on to the world of the living, Tuk fetch me my things, he will need immediate help.”</p><p></p><p>The halfling sprang to his feet, and scampered towards a pile of gear, and rummaged through them, as the male Erenlander knelt down, uttered words of arcane power, his hands took on a brief, as light danced between his hands, and placed them on the dworg’s chest, the glow washing over the injured warrior, as the others watched in awe. The dworg opened his eyes, and sat up jabbering in the language of the dwarves, confusing the poor Erenlander as he stared at the dworg in confusion.</p><p></p><p>Borca though understood the dworg, “Calm down lad, you are in a safe place. We is not here to hurt ye, Valthis, the man kneeling next to you used his magic to heal you. Oh and me name is Borca, Borca Ironguard. And if you were killing orcs you is alright by me.”</p><p></p><p>The dworg focused his attention on the dwarf first nodding, and then replying, “Thanks for your help, please tell Valthis that I am thankful. My name is Malstrom, and I have to say that among all the dwarves I have met, you are nicest so far outside of my mother.”</p><p></p><p>Borca snorted, “The way I see it lad, if you fight the Shadow, and you kill orcs, you is good in my book. Besides we is in this together, if we can’t get along now, then this war is already lost eh?”</p><p></p><p>The rest of the insurgents watched as the two jabbered on in dwarf, seeing the both were in good spirits the mood relaxed. Questions would be asked, and decisions would be made, but at least for a moment, things seemed to be going well. But as all things in Eredane, such moments of levity did not last…</p><p></p><p><strong>***********************************************</strong></p><p></p><p>The orc soldiers tried their best to keep pace with their prey, but he was proving to be much more nimble, and knowledgeable then they had originally anticipated. Already they could feel themselves becoming winded, under their heavier armor, as the spry elfling dropped from his perch, and ducked into the shadows, keeping his shortbow ready, and a keen eye out for his pursuers.</p><p></p><p>The elfling breathed a quick sigh of relief as the orcs took a moment to rest., and squabbled with each other in the Black Tongue, disgust in their voices as a goblin scout relayed back the fruit of his forays, which was precious little. It had been nearly six hours since the hunt began and the elfling, had faith that he could keep the pace up at least long enough that the orcs may give up the chase. But then again, he was thinking optimistically.</p><p></p><p>It was an ambush he had realized a thousand times over, Sildarin must have either been in trouble or perhaps dead, and his two allies Velshana and Gilthanis were dead killed by orcs while he was scouting around. If anything someone had betrayed them, but who, and how and why? Maybe there was no traitor, maybe they were just unlucky, and the Shadow was everywhere, after all. </p><p></p><p><em>Well Semmarin don’t let the Shadow take you, if I can live maybe I can contact Sildarin, and find out what to do next, or-</em>, the elfling thought, as a stray arrow, jarred him from his thoughts. The goblin had spotted him, he ducked as a second arrow sailed towards him. He took careful aim and let the arrow fly, finding the goblin’s throat as he bounded off again, through the forests.</p><p></p><p>The goblin gurgled a scream, as Semmarin ran through the forest, his footsteps light, as he used the trees, the brush and his size to his advantage. The larger orcs were stronger, but the wilds were his home, he could feel the pulse of nature around him, and it barred no path to him, as he continued to run. But only the Shadow knew how long he could keep running…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Tokiwong, post: 1099402, member: 961"] [b]The Task at Hand[/b] Corine trained her arrow on the Dorn as he drug his companion from the water, wrapped a quick bandage around his chest to stymie the black-red blood. She spoke harshly, “Identify yourself stranger,” not sure yet if she was dealing with a friend or foe, the man had only one choice, to give her honest answers. The Dorn looked up and scowled, but his scowl turned to a grimace as he realized he was wounded as well, “Dae, my friend and I are injured, and I am not your enemy.” She glanced down to the dworg, his body still, and his breathing slight. She kept her arrow trained on Dae, as he held up his empty hands, and stepped back trying to appease the woman as best as he could. Corine spoke again lowering her arrow, “You fought and killed orcs, for now we are on the same side. Help me carry your companion, I know a safe place,” as she thought, [i]at least safe as any place can be in these lands[/i]. Dae nodded and helped Corine lift the dworg; the two humans carried the large half-breed into the woods, and along a faint trail, as quickly as they could. Dae’s arms ached, and his injuries wrought great pain across his body, as he struggled to keep pace with the smaller woman. The two made haste under cover of the thick canopy of trees, and the darkness of the moonlit sky. Until they arrived at the woman’s safe haven, a ruined and forgotten tower. Inside were several individuals, some of them reaching for their weapons as the trio entered the tower. A dwarf reached for his warhammer, his long brown beard braided in several place, singing freely over his dwarf wrought chainmail. Another Dorn stood, his head shaved, and tattoos adorning his bare arms, lifting a well-kept bastard sword, towards the three. A halfling carrying a spear stood as well, more so because the others did, then out of any alarm, it was obvious fighting was not his best trait. Another human of Erenland stock, stayed seated, his eyes watching the scene with great interest and worry, but thankfully Corine pulled her hood back, allaying some of the fear and suspicion in the room. Corine cleared her throat, “Relax Borca, Salas, they are with me, we just fought some orcs out near the Eren, a patrol from Hope Point.” The dwarf grinned, “Aye I see you keep busy, it seems like you have a penchant for picking up strays,” as he lowered his warhammer, and rested his hand on the hilt of his short blade, the bottom fitted with midnight black jewel. Salas sat back down, resting his blade across his knees, and closed his eyes, but his ears were still alert. Corine and Dae place the dworg on the floor, clearing a place for the wounded warrior, the slim human male and approached the dworg, “His injuries are grievous, but this dworg seems to have somehow held on to the world of the living, Tuk fetch me my things, he will need immediate help.” The halfling sprang to his feet, and scampered towards a pile of gear, and rummaged through them, as the male Erenlander knelt down, uttered words of arcane power, his hands took on a brief, as light danced between his hands, and placed them on the dworg’s chest, the glow washing over the injured warrior, as the others watched in awe. The dworg opened his eyes, and sat up jabbering in the language of the dwarves, confusing the poor Erenlander as he stared at the dworg in confusion. Borca though understood the dworg, “Calm down lad, you are in a safe place. We is not here to hurt ye, Valthis, the man kneeling next to you used his magic to heal you. Oh and me name is Borca, Borca Ironguard. And if you were killing orcs you is alright by me.” The dworg focused his attention on the dwarf first nodding, and then replying, “Thanks for your help, please tell Valthis that I am thankful. My name is Malstrom, and I have to say that among all the dwarves I have met, you are nicest so far outside of my mother.” Borca snorted, “The way I see it lad, if you fight the Shadow, and you kill orcs, you is good in my book. Besides we is in this together, if we can’t get along now, then this war is already lost eh?” The rest of the insurgents watched as the two jabbered on in dwarf, seeing the both were in good spirits the mood relaxed. Questions would be asked, and decisions would be made, but at least for a moment, things seemed to be going well. But as all things in Eredane, such moments of levity did not last… [b]***********************************************[/b] The orc soldiers tried their best to keep pace with their prey, but he was proving to be much more nimble, and knowledgeable then they had originally anticipated. Already they could feel themselves becoming winded, under their heavier armor, as the spry elfling dropped from his perch, and ducked into the shadows, keeping his shortbow ready, and a keen eye out for his pursuers. The elfling breathed a quick sigh of relief as the orcs took a moment to rest., and squabbled with each other in the Black Tongue, disgust in their voices as a goblin scout relayed back the fruit of his forays, which was precious little. It had been nearly six hours since the hunt began and the elfling, had faith that he could keep the pace up at least long enough that the orcs may give up the chase. But then again, he was thinking optimistically. It was an ambush he had realized a thousand times over, Sildarin must have either been in trouble or perhaps dead, and his two allies Velshana and Gilthanis were dead killed by orcs while he was scouting around. If anything someone had betrayed them, but who, and how and why? Maybe there was no traitor, maybe they were just unlucky, and the Shadow was everywhere, after all. [i]Well Semmarin don’t let the Shadow take you, if I can live maybe I can contact Sildarin, and find out what to do next, or-[/i], the elfling thought, as a stray arrow, jarred him from his thoughts. The goblin had spotted him, he ducked as a second arrow sailed towards him. He took careful aim and let the arrow fly, finding the goblin’s throat as he bounded off again, through the forests. The goblin gurgled a scream, as Semmarin ran through the forest, his footsteps light, as he used the trees, the brush and his size to his advantage. The larger orcs were stronger, but the wilds were his home, he could feel the pulse of nature around him, and it barred no path to him, as he continued to run. But only the Shadow knew how long he could keep running… [/QUOTE]
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