(Casual D&D III) The Man in Black
- Thread starter Guilt Puppy
- Start date
Guilt Puppy
First Post
Oliver: As the group rides, late into the day, you catch sight of something in the trees, some distance away... Or rather, you feel as though you've caught sight of something, but every time you try to focus on it you find nothing, as though you were trying to watch yourself blink in the mirror... Just as you are ready to curse your stumbling imagination, however, it at last resolves: A figure, an elf, most probably, perched on a branch about forty yards away to the east, clothed to match the colors of leaf and bark... At first it appears to stand motionless, but no, the figure sways just as the branches do, equally responsive to the currents of wind...
And noticing that, you pick out another detail: This figure is holding a longbow, and it has been nocked, but neither aimed nor pulled...
And noticing that, you pick out another detail: This figure is holding a longbow, and it has been nocked, but neither aimed nor pulled...
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Sparky
Registered User
Oliver’s stomach rumbles as the group picks its way toward the Glades. He plays a simple duet with Tatlock, teaching the lad some of the whistled signals the soldiers of Hedrogura use. Signals stolen from the rogues of Hedrogura. He pats his stomach and takes a deep breath, riding easily. Winkle is perched on his saddle bags, warbling and spreading his wings tentatively. The young owl is nearly pure white now, only a few patches of down gray adolescent tufts remain. Bastrop plods along quietly beside Oliver’s rangy warhorse, Whistler – named that in honor of Shavah, who, as a favor, had saddled Oliver’s curious mount, only to find her new flute mouthed by the curious animal. Oliver smiles to himself thinking of the flourish of choice words Shavah spouted as the company laughed at her reaching up to take the flute from the horse who tossed its head, and the silver whistle, just out of reach. And he chuckles as he remembers Shavah's furious flush as Nurthk murmured to the animal and calmed it easily and handed her the horse-mouthed flute. Though it was Raven who'd given the horse its name, making Shavah turn a startling shade of purple.
A feeling of unease settles over the old man and his smile slips. He peers into the woods unable to shake the sense of being watched. There! He looks and the imagined shape is gone. Don’t look directly at it… he focuses into the middle distance somewhere near where he’d seen the strange silhouette. Yes… there.
He pats Whistler on the neck and says, “The wardens of the forest have turned out to greet us. Off to the right, and high. I only see one. But they’re like rats; for every one you see, there are a dozen more. Doesn't seem hostile. Yet.”
He unfocuses his eyes and swings his shaggy head to and fro, searching out other lurkers. He scours his memory for anything that Arrowyn might have told him about the elven guardians of the Glades. Or anything he might have picked up listening to the tall tales of bloated nobles. They were sprinkled here and there with facts, from time to time.
A feeling of unease settles over the old man and his smile slips. He peers into the woods unable to shake the sense of being watched. There! He looks and the imagined shape is gone. Don’t look directly at it… he focuses into the middle distance somewhere near where he’d seen the strange silhouette. Yes… there.
He pats Whistler on the neck and says, “The wardens of the forest have turned out to greet us. Off to the right, and high. I only see one. But they’re like rats; for every one you see, there are a dozen more. Doesn't seem hostile. Yet.”
He unfocuses his eyes and swings his shaggy head to and fro, searching out other lurkers. He scours his memory for anything that Arrowyn might have told him about the elven guardians of the Glades. Or anything he might have picked up listening to the tall tales of bloated nobles. They were sprinkled here and there with facts, from time to time.
Guilt Puppy
First Post
Aerda looks at Oliver's direction, seeming not to expect much, then blinks his eyes hard as his gaze finds the archer. "This far from the city?" he asks quietly, to no one in particular, then dismounts his horse silently.
"Wait here," he says to the group. "I'm going to make an introduction."
He walks over, slowly, and the figure comes down from the tree to meet him, stepping from branch to branch before finally coming back to earth, and continuing forward at a casual pace, all as one natural motion.
The two share a short, quiet conversation, and Aerda returns with the word.
"He wants us to load all our weapons onto the mule. Then, he says, he will escort us into Sesphar."
"Wait here," he says to the group. "I'm going to make an introduction."
He walks over, slowly, and the figure comes down from the tree to meet him, stepping from branch to branch before finally coming back to earth, and continuing forward at a casual pace, all as one natural motion.
The two share a short, quiet conversation, and Aerda returns with the word.
"He wants us to load all our weapons onto the mule. Then, he says, he will escort us into Sesphar."
Raven unstrings his bow, wraps it and stacks it on the mule. His twohander and shortswords follow, leaving only his knife hanging from his belt.
"Poor Jake, what have you done to upset that elven lad, that he wishes to burden you so?"
He unbuckles his cloak, and turns around showing the Elf he's got no hidden weapons.
"Poor Jake, what have you done to upset that elven lad, that he wishes to burden you so?"
He unbuckles his cloak, and turns around showing the Elf he's got no hidden weapons.
Sparky
Registered User
Oliver nods as Aerda pads into the brush. He sits quietly, listening to the sounds of the forest that grow and flow around him. Arrowyn knew this place. He closes his eyes and opens them when the slim red-eyed elf returns.
An astonishing number of daggers are hidden about the old man's belongings. One after another come out from saddlebags, boots, he even pulls one from Fendric's saddle and another from Tatlock's backpack. He shrugs. He stows the gear neatly and helps the others stash their weapons safely, splitting them between Bastrop and Jake.
I wonder if he knows who I am. The old man draws himself up very straight and smooths his pale, wild mane of hair. He turns a carefully expressionless face on the elf.
An astonishing number of daggers are hidden about the old man's belongings. One after another come out from saddlebags, boots, he even pulls one from Fendric's saddle and another from Tatlock's backpack. He shrugs. He stows the gear neatly and helps the others stash their weapons safely, splitting them between Bastrop and Jake.
I wonder if he knows who I am. The old man draws himself up very straight and smooths his pale, wild mane of hair. He turns a carefully expressionless face on the elf.
Festy_Dog
First Post
Nurthk grudgingly transfered his weapons onto the mule, paying special attention to his double axe. Afterwards he cast a suspicious glance towards the elf in sight, hesitant to be unarmed in the presence of elves. Especially hidden elves, with bows. He remained silent, but was clearly stressed and on the defensive.
Travelling with one is difficult enough. I should've took the long way around and met the others when they were done.
Travelling with one is difficult enough. I should've took the long way around and met the others when they were done.
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