The Psionicle, Part VIII

[Creamsteak]

Animus thinks to himself about how unthreatening the little vicious squirrel is. "All it did was almost bite my finger off... it's not really that bad. The blood is bad, and I'll need to watch the wound, but really... it's not like it was going to kill me...... would it?"

(I assume, from the group's intentions, that we are heading out, and hoping we were lucky enough to get out in the right location.)

Animus mounts up and double-checks the rope-work on the squirrel holding bag. He then proceeds to examine the woods for the next 'trick' that could come at any time.

 

[Zhure]

Osius

"At least it wasn't those darned rabbit things from when we first went to the city... those things creeped me out as much as the squirrels."

 

[dkoz]

Desimus follows Narok's lead hoping that the druid knows the best way out.

 

[Creamsteak]

Animus draws up the rear of the mounted group, arming his shortbow and scouring the woods as best he can with his eyesight.

 

[Jarval]

Pistol in hand, Jansson follows after Narok. He looks around the surrounding forest with suspicion, gently tapping the pistol barrel against his scabbard.

 

[The Forsaken One]

Moves up to the front of the group.

 

[Zhure]

Osius

Osius follows Narok through the forest.

 

[Dalamar]

Syld's head starts bopping up and down as he almost falls asleep on the horse.

 

[GnomeWorks]

A Voice in the Wind

You travel through the woods, led by Narok and his panther. Though you believe that you are being led out, you aren't entirely certain... one stretch of unusual trees looks much like any other.

As you go, the moons begin setting, and the soft light that they provide is lessened.

Then, from out of nowhere, a strange voice, like the blowing of wind through the branches of dead trees, comes fleeting through the air...

"You are foolish, blue one..." The voice speaks. "You should have left when you still could. You think you will escape us now, when you know of our secrets?"

There is shrill laughter, that sends shivers up your spines. "No, we will not let you go so easily... no matter which way you go now, you will be led to the heart of this place. You cannot escape us - our agents are everywhere, as you have found..."

The voice then takes on a hostile, acid tone. "And you, the silent one, he who bears our kindred... release him, or you will suffer a far worse fate than the one that awaits you..."

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the wind that bore the voice dies. The forest is as silent as it had been before the voice spoke.

 

[Creamsteak]

Animus will get off his horse, expecting the whole party to stop up briefly as well, and put away his bow, only to grab up his sword in his right hand, and the burlap containing the squirrel in his left hand.

Thinking to himself, "Good... now they want to fight us themselves."

Animus taps his sword with his wrist before he flicks the blade up into his hand, and sets the burlap onto a spot on the ground (it's still tied though), and proceeds to activate his skin of tumbling. "They can have their pet, but I want them to come out and get it first."

Animus tries to inkle out one message to his friends, "Which direction are they coming from?"

Expectant that he will get what he wants, Animus waits patiently. If nothing comes for more than a minute, he grabs up the bag and gets onto his horse, and continues the journey, waiting for the opposition to face him directly. "I'm not giving them anything. They didn't threaten anyone else with a worse fate, only myself. I'll suffer their challenges, and if they are so afraid of confronting us, their challenges are just whispers in the air."

Animus doesn't let down his psy-skin guard, feeling ready to manuever into combat at the sight of one or more threatening, dominating, cowards...