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Story Hour
A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour - updated 19th December
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<blockquote data-quote="Spider_Jerusalem" data-source="post: 2220669" data-attributes="member: 5507"><p><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="color: RoyalBlue"><strong>Interlude Number One: A Tale of Honour</strong></span></span></p><p></p><p>“We don’t serve your kind” growled the stout bar keep, </p><p>“Leave before I make Limmet hurt ya”</p><p></p><p>Torious looked to where the barkeep nodded his greasy curls. A large man with a scar running the length of his arm was slouching in the corner, a young maiden draped over his knee. Torious grimaced and looked back at the squinted eyes of the barkeep.</p><p></p><p>“I am sorry to have offended you.” Torious nodded curtly and turned to go. He knew his birth scars were starting to flare and it never boded well in these situations. He headed for the door. The inns occupants seemed to watch him as he walked the length of the rotten floor. </p><p></p><p>Limmet laughed in the corner and yelled a curse which became too slurred to understand. Even so the bar picked the chant up and quickly the silence was filled with jeering and screaming at the man who quickly exited.</p><p></p><p>Torious stepped into the night air of Darmshall city. The jeering faded almost as soon as he turned out of sight. It was nothing new to Torious, for almost a year now he had been hounded from tavern to tavern, village to village and realm to realm. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>- - - - - - - - - -</strong></p><p></p><p>The Gate warden that held the pass between the icy lands of Damara and Vaasa had almost not admitted the tall, well built man who stood alone before the towering gates.</p><p>“Who goes there?” had echoed from above, “Friend or foe?”</p><p>Torious almost turned back then. But this was the way shown in his dreams.</p><p></p><p>“I am Torious Mangrane. Traveller to the city of Darmshall, I request passage through Bloodstone Pass and a nights stop at the Bloodstone Inn.”</p><p>“I can let ya through but you ‘ave to ask at the inn for a room” the watchman paused, “what are ya… human or otherwise?”</p><p></p><p>Torious had this question any number of times each day. His beauty had been unparalleled in his travels so far, the cascade of golden hair rolled down his face, framing the features which drew both friendly and jealous attention. Each cheekbone bore a deep white scar that ran for no more than three inches towards his jaw, from just beneath his eyes. They had been present from birth and no form of healing, magic or otherwise, would heal the scars. They enhanced his features and pronounced his gold flecked eyes.</p><p></p><p>“I am a traveller. That is all”</p><p>“Aye, you said that.” said the watchman suspiciously, “Answer my question or you will have no passage to Vaasa”</p><p></p><p>Torious looked up at the guard and tensed the skin around the scars, his heavy hood fell away and he felt the scars surge with energy. The gate and its towers ahead of him lit up with the pulsating yellow light that poured from the scars. </p><p></p><p>“I am Aasimar, descendant of Tyr the Even-Handed.” Torious brandished a wooden symbol of a warhammer-on-scales in his right hand, “I speak his words and wield his justice. Open the gates lest you be judged and face his holy wrath.” </p><p>A thunderous grinding noise heralded the opening of the Bloodstone gates.</p><p></p><p>Torious walked into the small village that lay beyond. The gates echoed shut behind him and the guard yelled “all is clear”. The night air highlighted the rough edges of the buildings that lay around him and rose up the chasm faces. Stone houses seemed to jut from the walls of the slate walls as if built straight from them. Torious did not doubt they would be. </p><p></p><p>Three dwarves crossed his path, their beards braided with some unknown monstrous teeth as pins. They scowled at Torious as he stopped to let them wander past, they headed for one of the only lights in the stone village, the inn; The Gorges Gift.</p><p></p><p>The nights stay was pleasant and Torious was not bothered by the locals. Indeed, it seemed every one of the occupants was a traveller and had their own business and reasons to keep to themselves. The next day he travelled before dawn to ensure he was alone for prayer to Tyr. That was a ten day hence.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>- - - - - - - - - -</strong></p><p></p><p>Torious sat at the base of the great tree in the market square of Darmshall. It's crooked fingers long since dead to the ferocious storms that would sometimes rack the city for days on end, bringing the ice blizzards from the north. And worse. </p><p></p><p>The wind whipped at Torious’ cloak as he sat silent in the night air. The city was quiet around him. He had only seen three other persons, a human man and a half-orc couple since exiting the inn. </p><p></p><p>His sword scabbard lay across his knees, its leather sheath cracked and brittle from the cold. He brushed a hand down it. A new sword is needed. And more. He looked down at the rusting scale mail that hung too large for him. A golden strand of hair whipped across his face and crossed and eye. Torious blinked and pulled the strand free, pushing it behind his ear.</p><p></p><p>A sound, from the alley ahead. He kept his hand at his ear, holding the cloak hood back from his keen ears. His eyes scanned the dark. Torious knew his eyes were better in the dark than any humans and for this he could see Limmet heading into the alleyway. Staggering against the wall? No. Someone else was there. The woman from before. </p><p></p><p>Torious didn’t move for a moment then a muffled shriek came from the woman and the Aasimar leapt to his feet and unsheathed his Longsword, <em>Justicar</em>. His steps clattered off the frosted flagstones as he headed for Limmet and the woman. Torious broke into a run as another, more painful shriek came from the alleyway.</p><p></p><p>“Stop it!” screamed a female voice, just ahead of Torious.</p><p>“Shut up.” A small sound of fist on flesh then a whimper.</p><p></p><p>Torious turned the corner to see Limmet crouched over the fallen woman. Her frail body was lain on the ground, her face was half covered in mud but a bruise could be seen against the moonlight, a deep purple in the blues, blacks and whites that covered the alleyway. Limmet looked up and took a step backwards, seeing the sword in Torious’ hand. Recognition passed over his ugly face.</p><p></p><p>“You?” he slurred into a laugh, “The scar boy?”</p><p>Limmet drew a shortsword from a scabbard at his waist. He was built a deal taller than Torious but not much more muscle. He grinned again, yellow teeth protruding into the night air</p><p>“Think you can beat me pretty boy? Take off your scales”</p><p></p><p>Torious thought about this. His knowledge of Limmet was limited to the previous hour but he assumed as soon as he began to de-scale, Limmet would attack. Torious passed this out of his mind. Looking down at the body of the woman, she groaned once then heaved. Her stomach emptied onto her torn dress and into the frozen mud. Limmet was quicker than Torious would have thought. </p><p></p><p>The shortsword flickered forward, clattering against <em>Justicar</em> as Torious defended himself. He set his back foot in the mud, determined to stay his ground against Limmet. Another sword strike whirled at his stomach then his face, they were both turned aside. Torious made no move to attack.</p><p></p><p>“Tyr has seen the darkness that sits in you,” Torious guided Limmet’s side slash into a wall and took a step forwards, connecting his gauntleted left fist to the rogue's face with a gruesome chime of gauntlet on skin.</p><p></p><p>“His eyes see through mine,” Torious grasped Limmet’s sword hand in his mailed fist. </p><p></p><p>“His hand guides my own” Torious clenched down on Limmet’s hand. </p><p>Limmet screamed, a spatter of blood and spit sprayed from his bloodied face onto Torious’ chestplate. Torious let the sword hand drop and the short sword clattered into the mud. Limmet backed away, but the Aasimar was faster.</p><p></p><p>“I speak his words” <em>Justicar</em> drove quickly upwards in a smooth arc, “and wield his justice” the sword slid easily into Limmet’s chest. </p><p></p><p>Limmet slid from the blade with a soft sigh. His eyes darted everywhere all at once, taking in the bloodied blade, the dark alley way, the bruised body of the woman and the twin glowing scars that gave form to the silhouette standing over him. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>- - - - - - - - - -</strong></p><p></p><p>An hour later Torious stoked the small fire infront of him, his possessions lay on the ground to his left and to his right lay <em>Justicar</em>. He swept the cloth over the spattered scale mail again, trying to work the blood from underneath the individual plates. </p><p></p><p>After dispensing a final blow to Limmet he had taken the girl to the city temple of Oghma. Father Rellin, a devout man with piercing eyes, had thanked him then suggested he stay away from the city for a number of nights and wait for the next caravan party leading West. Torious did not argue. </p><p></p><p>No doubt Limmet would be found soon after dawn and his body reported to Noristour, the city mage who seemed to be a law enforcement in himself. But this for the moment did not worry Torious, his thoughts lay simply with Tyr and the thanks he would have for the justice dutifully dispensed to Limmet. </p><p></p><p>With a sigh Torious rolled onto his back and watched the stars sparkle overhead. Counting the different gods and deeds that lay up there for all to read. </p><p>Shall I serve Tyr highly enough to grant me a place in the stars? Or am I to wander till my limbs grow tired and I lay on the grass, never to move again?</p><p></p><p>Torious glided to sleep watching a dim green star move slowly between the constellations of The Great Justice, a secondary constellation of Tyr, and The Furnace, a curled formation granted to Kossuth, the Lord of Flames.</p><p>Stars should not move.</p><p>Yet sleep was too close and Torious’ eyes closed to await the dawn light.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Spider_Jerusalem, post: 2220669, member: 5507"] [SIZE=4][COLOR=RoyalBlue][B]Interlude Number One: A Tale of Honour[/B][/COLOR][/SIZE] “We don’t serve your kind” growled the stout bar keep, “Leave before I make Limmet hurt ya” Torious looked to where the barkeep nodded his greasy curls. A large man with a scar running the length of his arm was slouching in the corner, a young maiden draped over his knee. Torious grimaced and looked back at the squinted eyes of the barkeep. “I am sorry to have offended you.” Torious nodded curtly and turned to go. He knew his birth scars were starting to flare and it never boded well in these situations. He headed for the door. The inns occupants seemed to watch him as he walked the length of the rotten floor. Limmet laughed in the corner and yelled a curse which became too slurred to understand. Even so the bar picked the chant up and quickly the silence was filled with jeering and screaming at the man who quickly exited. Torious stepped into the night air of Darmshall city. The jeering faded almost as soon as he turned out of sight. It was nothing new to Torious, for almost a year now he had been hounded from tavern to tavern, village to village and realm to realm. [CENTER][B]- - - - - - - - - -[/B][/CENTER] The Gate warden that held the pass between the icy lands of Damara and Vaasa had almost not admitted the tall, well built man who stood alone before the towering gates. “Who goes there?” had echoed from above, “Friend or foe?” Torious almost turned back then. But this was the way shown in his dreams. “I am Torious Mangrane. Traveller to the city of Darmshall, I request passage through Bloodstone Pass and a nights stop at the Bloodstone Inn.” “I can let ya through but you ‘ave to ask at the inn for a room” the watchman paused, “what are ya… human or otherwise?” Torious had this question any number of times each day. His beauty had been unparalleled in his travels so far, the cascade of golden hair rolled down his face, framing the features which drew both friendly and jealous attention. Each cheekbone bore a deep white scar that ran for no more than three inches towards his jaw, from just beneath his eyes. They had been present from birth and no form of healing, magic or otherwise, would heal the scars. They enhanced his features and pronounced his gold flecked eyes. “I am a traveller. That is all” “Aye, you said that.” said the watchman suspiciously, “Answer my question or you will have no passage to Vaasa” Torious looked up at the guard and tensed the skin around the scars, his heavy hood fell away and he felt the scars surge with energy. The gate and its towers ahead of him lit up with the pulsating yellow light that poured from the scars. “I am Aasimar, descendant of Tyr the Even-Handed.” Torious brandished a wooden symbol of a warhammer-on-scales in his right hand, “I speak his words and wield his justice. Open the gates lest you be judged and face his holy wrath.” A thunderous grinding noise heralded the opening of the Bloodstone gates. Torious walked into the small village that lay beyond. The gates echoed shut behind him and the guard yelled “all is clear”. The night air highlighted the rough edges of the buildings that lay around him and rose up the chasm faces. Stone houses seemed to jut from the walls of the slate walls as if built straight from them. Torious did not doubt they would be. Three dwarves crossed his path, their beards braided with some unknown monstrous teeth as pins. They scowled at Torious as he stopped to let them wander past, they headed for one of the only lights in the stone village, the inn; The Gorges Gift. The nights stay was pleasant and Torious was not bothered by the locals. Indeed, it seemed every one of the occupants was a traveller and had their own business and reasons to keep to themselves. The next day he travelled before dawn to ensure he was alone for prayer to Tyr. That was a ten day hence. [CENTER][B]- - - - - - - - - -[/B][/CENTER] Torious sat at the base of the great tree in the market square of Darmshall. It's crooked fingers long since dead to the ferocious storms that would sometimes rack the city for days on end, bringing the ice blizzards from the north. And worse. The wind whipped at Torious’ cloak as he sat silent in the night air. The city was quiet around him. He had only seen three other persons, a human man and a half-orc couple since exiting the inn. His sword scabbard lay across his knees, its leather sheath cracked and brittle from the cold. He brushed a hand down it. A new sword is needed. And more. He looked down at the rusting scale mail that hung too large for him. A golden strand of hair whipped across his face and crossed and eye. Torious blinked and pulled the strand free, pushing it behind his ear. A sound, from the alley ahead. He kept his hand at his ear, holding the cloak hood back from his keen ears. His eyes scanned the dark. Torious knew his eyes were better in the dark than any humans and for this he could see Limmet heading into the alleyway. Staggering against the wall? No. Someone else was there. The woman from before. Torious didn’t move for a moment then a muffled shriek came from the woman and the Aasimar leapt to his feet and unsheathed his Longsword, [I]Justicar[/I]. His steps clattered off the frosted flagstones as he headed for Limmet and the woman. Torious broke into a run as another, more painful shriek came from the alleyway. “Stop it!” screamed a female voice, just ahead of Torious. “Shut up.” A small sound of fist on flesh then a whimper. Torious turned the corner to see Limmet crouched over the fallen woman. Her frail body was lain on the ground, her face was half covered in mud but a bruise could be seen against the moonlight, a deep purple in the blues, blacks and whites that covered the alleyway. Limmet looked up and took a step backwards, seeing the sword in Torious’ hand. Recognition passed over his ugly face. “You?” he slurred into a laugh, “The scar boy?” Limmet drew a shortsword from a scabbard at his waist. He was built a deal taller than Torious but not much more muscle. He grinned again, yellow teeth protruding into the night air “Think you can beat me pretty boy? Take off your scales” Torious thought about this. His knowledge of Limmet was limited to the previous hour but he assumed as soon as he began to de-scale, Limmet would attack. Torious passed this out of his mind. Looking down at the body of the woman, she groaned once then heaved. Her stomach emptied onto her torn dress and into the frozen mud. Limmet was quicker than Torious would have thought. The shortsword flickered forward, clattering against [I]Justicar[/I] as Torious defended himself. He set his back foot in the mud, determined to stay his ground against Limmet. Another sword strike whirled at his stomach then his face, they were both turned aside. Torious made no move to attack. “Tyr has seen the darkness that sits in you,” Torious guided Limmet’s side slash into a wall and took a step forwards, connecting his gauntleted left fist to the rogue's face with a gruesome chime of gauntlet on skin. “His eyes see through mine,” Torious grasped Limmet’s sword hand in his mailed fist. “His hand guides my own” Torious clenched down on Limmet’s hand. Limmet screamed, a spatter of blood and spit sprayed from his bloodied face onto Torious’ chestplate. Torious let the sword hand drop and the short sword clattered into the mud. Limmet backed away, but the Aasimar was faster. “I speak his words” [I]Justicar[/I] drove quickly upwards in a smooth arc, “and wield his justice” the sword slid easily into Limmet’s chest. Limmet slid from the blade with a soft sigh. His eyes darted everywhere all at once, taking in the bloodied blade, the dark alley way, the bruised body of the woman and the twin glowing scars that gave form to the silhouette standing over him. [CENTER][B]- - - - - - - - - -[/B][/CENTER] An hour later Torious stoked the small fire infront of him, his possessions lay on the ground to his left and to his right lay [I]Justicar[/I]. He swept the cloth over the spattered scale mail again, trying to work the blood from underneath the individual plates. After dispensing a final blow to Limmet he had taken the girl to the city temple of Oghma. Father Rellin, a devout man with piercing eyes, had thanked him then suggested he stay away from the city for a number of nights and wait for the next caravan party leading West. Torious did not argue. No doubt Limmet would be found soon after dawn and his body reported to Noristour, the city mage who seemed to be a law enforcement in himself. But this for the moment did not worry Torious, his thoughts lay simply with Tyr and the thanks he would have for the justice dutifully dispensed to Limmet. With a sigh Torious rolled onto his back and watched the stars sparkle overhead. Counting the different gods and deeds that lay up there for all to read. Shall I serve Tyr highly enough to grant me a place in the stars? Or am I to wander till my limbs grow tired and I lay on the grass, never to move again? Torious glided to sleep watching a dim green star move slowly between the constellations of The Great Justice, a secondary constellation of Tyr, and The Furnace, a curled formation granted to Kossuth, the Lord of Flames. Stars should not move. Yet sleep was too close and Torious’ eyes closed to await the dawn light. [/QUOTE]
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