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[FR] Heroes of the Vilhon Reach II (updated 3/6!)
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<blockquote data-quote="Broccli_Head" data-source="post: 655873" data-attributes="member: 105"><p><span style="color: red"><strong>7-8 Tarsakh, Year of Rogue Dragons <em> The Beginning of the End, part I</em></strong></span> </p><p></p><p>Ellysidell, Chosen of Fenmaril Mestarine, could not sleep. Actually, to be more accurate, Ellysidell did not need to go into reverie. He was always awake and always alert. </p><p></p><p><em>The benefits of meeting your god, I guess...</em> he thought to himself as he wandered the High Tower, the seat of power in Iriaebor, while the rest on his companions rested. </p><p></p><p>That was not wholly accurate either. The strong-willed clerics, Benito of Tyr and Khirin of Waukeen stood watch in shifts in the dungeon where the <em>Starym Moonblade</em> lay captured. So too did the Inquisitors of Tyr from Zassespur keep vigil over the broken and twisted Mourn, former companion of the Heroes of the Vilhon Reach, in the tower room of the castle. They had arrived earlier that day shortly before Benito had returned with a strange, lead sword-case that they kept very close to themselves. Souliess had a natural aversion to the item. </p><p></p><p>Grim and Sergei slept near by and half of the Comyrean Expeditionary Force watched the stairs in shifts. The other half rested at the stairs to the dungeons with their leader, Ivan the Terrible. Two watched the door leading down. </p><p></p><p>Still Ellysidell felt alone as he made his way to the Grand Dining Hall. Suddenly, a shadow and then another, moved across the hall towards the exit.</p><p></p><p>"Who goes there?" challenged the wild elf. </p><p></p><p>A wild elven woman, her face scarred as if by fire, stepped from the shadows.</p><p></p><p>"Your people. We have come to claim our own and what rightfully belongs to us. Join us so that we may seek revenge upon the humans."</p><p></p><p>Ellysidell bristled, gripping his dwarven waraxe, <em>Son of Fury</em> even as the she-elf twirlled a great axe. The two warriors began to circle, taking a measure of one another. </p><p></p><p>"Whatever has twisted your view of humans, I know not, but I will not let you take that foul blade or do harm to my companions or the soldiers under the lord of this castle. Elderth Veluthra is not for me."</p><p></p><p>"Too late for that, brother, and more human corpses will litter these halls this night. I give you another chance. Join us or die."</p><p></p><p>She whistled and four more elves, two wood elves and two high elves joined her watching Ellysidell, while several others scampered from the dining hall towards the exit that Ell realized led to the dungeons. </p><p></p><p>Ellysidell sighed, "I am reluctant to kill you, but if you refuse to submit--"</p><p></p><p>But before he could finish, the wild elf attacked him. Ellysidell dodged and swung his axe into the haft of hers. In two quick blows, the Chosen hewed her great axe in pieces. Magic from her weapon leaked out as motes of glowing dust. The wild elf female growled and with more strength than Ellysidell was ready for, tore his axe from his hands, and sliced him across the torso. Ellysidell drew his back-up, <em>Golden Fire</em> and smacked his adversary across the head. </p><p></p><p>She did not let up and continued to attack Ellysidell with ferocity. He responded in kind and let the <em>rage</em> take him, but still made sure that he struck her with the flat of his blade. They exchanged blows, she fighting to kill, while he trying to grant mercy. The fierce exchange fortunately kept the other elves back with haughty looks of disdain for their wild brethren as they danced the dance of death....</p><p></p><p>**</p><p></p><p>Ivan sat up and sprung to his feet as he heard the cries of his men beyond the doors leading to the dungeon. They blew open and elves with weapons poured in. At their feet lay two of his troops. Behind them two robed elves followed. He was engulfed in darkness and subsequently heard two explosions as fire and smoke and the smell of charred flesh washed over him. He yelled and charged up the stairs. </p><p></p><p>Behind him Benito also was caught in the darkness and felt the heat of the magical detonations, but not the pain. He activated his cape and flew up the passageway, calling back to Khirin, "Fall back! Guard the sword!"</p><p></p><p>He passed the heavy fighting on the stairs where two more of Ivan's men had fallen and the Weaponmaster was engaged with two elven, dual-scimitar wielders who had sword prowess near to his own. Blood dripped down the stairs making the footing tricky and Ivan lost one of his blades. However, Benito went right at the elven mages. One he touched and the mage screamed, crumbling to dust. The other blasted him with magic. Unphased the cleric of Tyr finished him with another touch spell, forcing many wounds to bleed simultaneously. A slice from <em>Mano de la Justicia</em> finished him.</p><p></p><p><em>That was too easy....</em> thought the cleric. </p><p></p><p>A cry from Khirin below supported his suspicion and he bolted down the stairs knocking one of the elves' scimitars from his grasp into the empty hand of Ivan. Ivan winked as the cleric passed and thanked him and Tymora. </p><p></p><p>"Hold them as best you can, Ivan! Khirin's in trouble!"</p><p></p><p>...<em>and so is the sword!</em></p><p></p><p>**</p><p></p><p>Souliess hearing the commotion from downstairs awoke, hungry as usual. As he made his way leisurely towards the dining hall and kitchen a whooshing sound and a brisk breeze blew through the open apetures of the castle. Souliess made a face. The wind had a bitter, acrid smell. </p><p></p><p>Then something heavy hit the side of the castle. More specifically what ever it had been shook the high tower, startling the clerics of Tyr from their vigil, waking Grim and alerting the Cormyrean soldiers on duty, upsetting the balance of some. Mourn began to writhe spasmodically. </p><p></p><p>In the dining hall, the elven barbarians continued to fight, bruised and bloodied. Dust and a few loose bits of rock fell from the ceiling. </p><p></p><p>Down in the dungeons and Ivan and his men fell back defensively, more dust and bits of loose earth dropped from the above. </p><p></p><p>Ivan looked up and cursed. He had a bad feeling that things had just gone from bad to worse...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Broccli_Head, post: 655873, member: 105"] [COLOR=red][b]7-8 Tarsakh, Year of Rogue Dragons [i] The Beginning of the End, part I[/i][/b][/COLOR] Ellysidell, Chosen of Fenmaril Mestarine, could not sleep. Actually, to be more accurate, Ellysidell did not need to go into reverie. He was always awake and always alert. [i]The benefits of meeting your god, I guess...[/i] he thought to himself as he wandered the High Tower, the seat of power in Iriaebor, while the rest on his companions rested. That was not wholly accurate either. The strong-willed clerics, Benito of Tyr and Khirin of Waukeen stood watch in shifts in the dungeon where the [i]Starym Moonblade[/i] lay captured. So too did the Inquisitors of Tyr from Zassespur keep vigil over the broken and twisted Mourn, former companion of the Heroes of the Vilhon Reach, in the tower room of the castle. They had arrived earlier that day shortly before Benito had returned with a strange, lead sword-case that they kept very close to themselves. Souliess had a natural aversion to the item. Grim and Sergei slept near by and half of the Comyrean Expeditionary Force watched the stairs in shifts. The other half rested at the stairs to the dungeons with their leader, Ivan the Terrible. Two watched the door leading down. Still Ellysidell felt alone as he made his way to the Grand Dining Hall. Suddenly, a shadow and then another, moved across the hall towards the exit. "Who goes there?" challenged the wild elf. A wild elven woman, her face scarred as if by fire, stepped from the shadows. "Your people. We have come to claim our own and what rightfully belongs to us. Join us so that we may seek revenge upon the humans." Ellysidell bristled, gripping his dwarven waraxe, [i]Son of Fury[/i] even as the she-elf twirlled a great axe. The two warriors began to circle, taking a measure of one another. "Whatever has twisted your view of humans, I know not, but I will not let you take that foul blade or do harm to my companions or the soldiers under the lord of this castle. Elderth Veluthra is not for me." "Too late for that, brother, and more human corpses will litter these halls this night. I give you another chance. Join us or die." She whistled and four more elves, two wood elves and two high elves joined her watching Ellysidell, while several others scampered from the dining hall towards the exit that Ell realized led to the dungeons. Ellysidell sighed, "I am reluctant to kill you, but if you refuse to submit--" But before he could finish, the wild elf attacked him. Ellysidell dodged and swung his axe into the haft of hers. In two quick blows, the Chosen hewed her great axe in pieces. Magic from her weapon leaked out as motes of glowing dust. The wild elf female growled and with more strength than Ellysidell was ready for, tore his axe from his hands, and sliced him across the torso. Ellysidell drew his back-up, [i]Golden Fire[/i] and smacked his adversary across the head. She did not let up and continued to attack Ellysidell with ferocity. He responded in kind and let the [i]rage[/i] take him, but still made sure that he struck her with the flat of his blade. They exchanged blows, she fighting to kill, while he trying to grant mercy. The fierce exchange fortunately kept the other elves back with haughty looks of disdain for their wild brethren as they danced the dance of death.... ** Ivan sat up and sprung to his feet as he heard the cries of his men beyond the doors leading to the dungeon. They blew open and elves with weapons poured in. At their feet lay two of his troops. Behind them two robed elves followed. He was engulfed in darkness and subsequently heard two explosions as fire and smoke and the smell of charred flesh washed over him. He yelled and charged up the stairs. Behind him Benito also was caught in the darkness and felt the heat of the magical detonations, but not the pain. He activated his cape and flew up the passageway, calling back to Khirin, "Fall back! Guard the sword!" He passed the heavy fighting on the stairs where two more of Ivan's men had fallen and the Weaponmaster was engaged with two elven, dual-scimitar wielders who had sword prowess near to his own. Blood dripped down the stairs making the footing tricky and Ivan lost one of his blades. However, Benito went right at the elven mages. One he touched and the mage screamed, crumbling to dust. The other blasted him with magic. Unphased the cleric of Tyr finished him with another touch spell, forcing many wounds to bleed simultaneously. A slice from [i]Mano de la Justicia[/i] finished him. [i]That was too easy....[/i] thought the cleric. A cry from Khirin below supported his suspicion and he bolted down the stairs knocking one of the elves' scimitars from his grasp into the empty hand of Ivan. Ivan winked as the cleric passed and thanked him and Tymora. "Hold them as best you can, Ivan! Khirin's in trouble!" ...[i]and so is the sword![/i] ** Souliess hearing the commotion from downstairs awoke, hungry as usual. As he made his way leisurely towards the dining hall and kitchen a whooshing sound and a brisk breeze blew through the open apetures of the castle. Souliess made a face. The wind had a bitter, acrid smell. Then something heavy hit the side of the castle. More specifically what ever it had been shook the high tower, startling the clerics of Tyr from their vigil, waking Grim and alerting the Cormyrean soldiers on duty, upsetting the balance of some. Mourn began to writhe spasmodically. In the dining hall, the elven barbarians continued to fight, bruised and bloodied. Dust and a few loose bits of rock fell from the ceiling. Down in the dungeons and Ivan and his men fell back defensively, more dust and bits of loose earth dropped from the above. Ivan looked up and cursed. He had a bad feeling that things had just gone from bad to worse... [/QUOTE]
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