Hope Never Dies - Part 1 : On the threshold of dawn
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Lichtenhart
First Post
You close your eyes for a moment, drawing breath, and the memory the air retains of the power of a lightning. You feel it flow in your blood to your fingertips, then you open your eyes and you let go the violence of the bolt again. Its light remains etched on your eyes as you see it discharge on your opponent again, too slow to dodge it as he was preparing his blow. Even more blood rushes to the other George's eyes which seem now completely red, but his movement as he thrashes with his club is easy for you to foresee, and you roll away on the sand to safety. He has no more words for you. Only a deep growl.
Lichtenhart
First Post
Alone in the dark, you begin to swim in the direction you think leads you to the air you so desperately need. As pressure keep exacting its toll on your body (-9 hp) you see the glimmer of a lightning, and your blood rushes with the newly found hope. Another effort, and you'll be there...if you don't run out of air before.
Lichtenhart
First Post
One of the black arrows hits you (-4 hp), and you expected that. What you didn't expect is what happens behind you. The black knight's armor explodes into two pairs of black batlike wings. He jumps forward right over you as the people escape in terror at his appearance, lands before you, cutting your escape, and makes a lunge with his black sword that goes less than an inch wide from slitting your throat as you stop short in your tracks.
"Where do you think you're going? You're mine." he says as the black rain of death keeps falling from the sky except all around him.
"Where do you think you're going? You're mine." he says as the black rain of death keeps falling from the sky except all around him.
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Lichtenhart
First Post
Suddenly, you feel an invisible hand grabbing your arm.
"It's me, Kur. Just follow me and climb on that rock there. Whatever happens stay out of the water!"
George leads you to a small rock outcropping above the swamp as the lizardmen keep circling around. Finally they stop, aim their spears at you and charge you with a guttural growl. Their paws lift spurts of muddy water as they run towards you.
Then, just at your right, George appears, as if a curtain fell from his body. You hear him murmuring his mystical words and pointing his finger at the waters. A blue-white lightning leaves his hand and blossoms into a lotus of sparkles as it touches the water. Only a few lizardmen manage to stop in time to avoid its deadly petals. The others fall in the mud, their limbs and tail wildly shaking. Those who survived run from the warlock that killed their brethren.
"Now run! Your people needs you. I'll keep them away if they try something else."
"It's me, Kur. Just follow me and climb on that rock there. Whatever happens stay out of the water!"
George leads you to a small rock outcropping above the swamp as the lizardmen keep circling around. Finally they stop, aim their spears at you and charge you with a guttural growl. Their paws lift spurts of muddy water as they run towards you.
Then, just at your right, George appears, as if a curtain fell from his body. You hear him murmuring his mystical words and pointing his finger at the waters. A blue-white lightning leaves his hand and blossoms into a lotus of sparkles as it touches the water. Only a few lizardmen manage to stop in time to avoid its deadly petals. The others fall in the mud, their limbs and tail wildly shaking. Those who survived run from the warlock that killed their brethren.
"Now run! Your people needs you. I'll keep them away if they try something else."
hafrogman
Adventurer
Peregrine gazes into the face of his enemy and nods. He lightly drops the elven girl down behind him and holds Laerad in front of him. A calm numbness suffuses him as he stares down his opponent and embraces whatever fate is in store for him.
His staff blurs in his hands as he swings for the knight with all his strength.
"Very well, I am yours. Now we see if you can handle what you have bitten off."
[ooc - flurry of blows, +10/+10, 1d8+3 dmg]
His staff blurs in his hands as he swings for the knight with all his strength.
"Very well, I am yours. Now we see if you can handle what you have bitten off."
[ooc - flurry of blows, +10/+10, 1d8+3 dmg]
Lichtenhart
First Post
Time slows as you reach for the surface. Just as you think your lungs are going to explode, you find yourself to open air. The pain when you breathe doesn't compare to the elation you feel. You escaped the depths alive. Now you only have to survive the storm. As the huge waves wash over you, you manage to guess the general direction of the wind. You realize that if you were able to swim in that direction, or at least to avoid to be carried along by the storm, you could be out of the worse. But it would weary you to the bone. Will you be tough enough?
Lichtenhart
First Post
The world seems to slow down and fall silent as the two fighters face each other. The knight easily deflects the elf's first blow, but he didn't take into account the monk's speed. The other end of the stick seems to sink in the blackness that should be the knight's shoulder, drawing a thick, black liquid from an unseen wound. Immediately the creature shrieks in pain and the wing fall back on its body, taking once again the shape of the armor. The fiery orbs look at you with something older than anger, as he swipes Laerad and goes for your heart. As the black sword plunges in your chest you feel all its burning coldness (-9 hp). But you are not ready to die. You step back before the blade can claim your life, and in a blur of motion you strike below the knight's overextended arm, and at his neck as he winces. He feebly tries to stab your leg, but this leaves his back undefended from your final attack. Laerad strikes from above, and as it touches the black armor you can hear a sound as of glass shattering.
The black armor crumbles in dust at your feet, as something black is swept away by a swift wind. All around you suddenly notice that many other fighters coming from every land of the known war, have similarly ended their battle. The rain of black arrows stops, as the first cheers for victory beging to resound.
You hear a voice, clearly, though you couldn't say where it comes from.
Remember. Remember that you can change the world and its fate. Never lose your faith in this. Tell your companions too. Remember.
Everything around you begins to fade, to become less real, as if it was just painting on a wall. The last thing you can feel is the little girl jumping in your arms, hugging you tightly as she whispers in elven.
"Oh, daddy, I was so scared."
For a moment you think you'll keep this sensation, to feel her in your arms, forever in your heart like a precious treasure. But as the scene fades into the picture, it fades from your mind as well, until you are left in front of the field of barley you just painted, the salty wind ruffling your hair, wondering why you stopped.
The black armor crumbles in dust at your feet, as something black is swept away by a swift wind. All around you suddenly notice that many other fighters coming from every land of the known war, have similarly ended their battle. The rain of black arrows stops, as the first cheers for victory beging to resound.
You hear a voice, clearly, though you couldn't say where it comes from.
Remember. Remember that you can change the world and its fate. Never lose your faith in this. Tell your companions too. Remember.
Everything around you begins to fade, to become less real, as if it was just painting on a wall. The last thing you can feel is the little girl jumping in your arms, hugging you tightly as she whispers in elven.
"Oh, daddy, I was so scared."
For a moment you think you'll keep this sensation, to feel her in your arms, forever in your heart like a precious treasure. But as the scene fades into the picture, it fades from your mind as well, until you are left in front of the field of barley you just painted, the salty wind ruffling your hair, wondering why you stopped.
hafrogman
Adventurer
Peregrine pauses in his painting and glances absentmindedly at the brush in his hand. He gets a strange expression on his face and reaches out with one finger to test the paint on the wall in front of him.
[ooc - so I do not actually recall any of the encounter, not even as a daydream?]
[ooc - so I do not actually recall any of the encounter, not even as a daydream?]
Lichtenhart
First Post
You barely avoid your raging opponent's blow as you focus your magical energies in your hand. Three little stars, very similar to the ones above you, appear in the palm of your hand.
And as little shooting stars, they rush to your enemy, your mirror image.
The first one hits him on his right shoulder, dislocating it with a loud crack, that echoes through your own body.
The second one hits him on his stomach, knocking the breath out of him and making him fall to his knees. As he looks up to you again, you see something new in his eyes - respect, maybe?-. He chuckles, and a trickle of blood escape his lips. "And I thought you were the weak one..."
The third one hits him on his forehead, erasing the mark the fire left on him, as what life remained in him is extinguished.
Everything falls silent in the desert as George's dead body hits the ground.
Then a gentle breeze rises, and his body dissolves in a thin, red smoke. As you breathe it, you realize that maybe now you're stronger. Maybe finally you know who you really are. The pain and the mark in your hand fade away, like they were never been there. And a voice ring in your ears.
Remember. Remember that you can take the right decision. Never lose your faith in this. Tell your friends too. Remember.
The smoke around you gets darker and darker, till you're in the shadows. Then, the cloud that blocked the sun is carried away by the wind, and you see Grey with his paws on his nose, and a rather offended honey bee buzzing away. You can't help but chuckle, as as you do, your experience in the desert buries itself deep in your subconscious, disappearing from your mind. The pain in your ankle is gone as well.
Your wall is nearly done, you only need to darken the sky a bit.
And as little shooting stars, they rush to your enemy, your mirror image.
The first one hits him on his right shoulder, dislocating it with a loud crack, that echoes through your own body.
The second one hits him on his stomach, knocking the breath out of him and making him fall to his knees. As he looks up to you again, you see something new in his eyes - respect, maybe?-. He chuckles, and a trickle of blood escape his lips. "And I thought you were the weak one..."
The third one hits him on his forehead, erasing the mark the fire left on him, as what life remained in him is extinguished.
Everything falls silent in the desert as George's dead body hits the ground.
Then a gentle breeze rises, and his body dissolves in a thin, red smoke. As you breathe it, you realize that maybe now you're stronger. Maybe finally you know who you really are. The pain and the mark in your hand fade away, like they were never been there. And a voice ring in your ears.
Remember. Remember that you can take the right decision. Never lose your faith in this. Tell your friends too. Remember.
The smoke around you gets darker and darker, till you're in the shadows. Then, the cloud that blocked the sun is carried away by the wind, and you see Grey with his paws on his nose, and a rather offended honey bee buzzing away. You can't help but chuckle, as as you do, your experience in the desert buries itself deep in your subconscious, disappearing from your mind. The pain in your ankle is gone as well.
Your wall is nearly done, you only need to darken the sky a bit.
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Lichtenhart
First Post
You rush forward, away from the worst of the swamp, and soon you are on firmer ground. The wind blows from the east, carrying again the bitter smell of ashes. This time you recognize the stingy scent of burnt leather, and realize it's the smell of burning tents. Your heart begins to pump faster as your mind screams 'Blazehorns'!
The human tribe of the Blazehorns, who's totem is a stag with horns afire, has never been an ally of the Blackfangs. They claim their honor is undaunted, but are the only ones who would raze in such a way. They must have changed their territory, and thought your tribe was in the way.
As you approach your tribe's camp, you realize there hasn't been much of a fight. The invaders fell on your tribe while the strongest warriors were away hunting, and easily overcame the resistance of the few ones left with the women, the old and the children. You stop in a small wood, thinking what to do.
If they're not stupid they surely put some sentinels around, to prevent the Blackfang warrior to fall on them, but if you could reach their chief, you could still save your people. The Blazehorns believe that their leaders can fall only if the spirits dislike their deeds. Once you heard that they retreated from a battle already won because their chief died.
The human tribe of the Blazehorns, who's totem is a stag with horns afire, has never been an ally of the Blackfangs. They claim their honor is undaunted, but are the only ones who would raze in such a way. They must have changed their territory, and thought your tribe was in the way.
As you approach your tribe's camp, you realize there hasn't been much of a fight. The invaders fell on your tribe while the strongest warriors were away hunting, and easily overcame the resistance of the few ones left with the women, the old and the children. You stop in a small wood, thinking what to do.
If they're not stupid they surely put some sentinels around, to prevent the Blackfang warrior to fall on them, but if you could reach their chief, you could still save your people. The Blazehorns believe that their leaders can fall only if the spirits dislike their deeds. Once you heard that they retreated from a battle already won because their chief died.
Voadam
Legend
Kur peers from his wood, looking for where the blazehorn leader would be and where the sentries might be.
The orc's plan is simple, one cast of the spear if he needs to dispatch a sentry, then sneak his way into his burning village to spring upon their leader in rush. A shiv against a war leader armed for battle is not an even match, but it will do. If Kur can catch him by surprise it will do quite nicely.
Kur inhales deeply seeking man scent to confirm his conclusion about the invaders as he scans for picket guards and the chieftan.
The orc's plan is simple, one cast of the spear if he needs to dispatch a sentry, then sneak his way into his burning village to spring upon their leader in rush. A shiv against a war leader armed for battle is not an even match, but it will do. If Kur can catch him by surprise it will do quite nicely.
Kur inhales deeply seeking man scent to confirm his conclusion about the invaders as he scans for picket guards and the chieftan.
Lichtenhart
First Post
The spirits of nature heed your call and grant you the resistance you asked for, because the challenge ahead of you is desperate.
You have to fight against the might of the sea, that wins even over stone.
(-6 hp, subdual damage)
Barely remaining above water is an effort that slowly drains your strength.
(-1 hp,sd )
The maddening winds of the storm keep blowing foam in your eyes, nearly blinding you.
(-2 hp, sd)
Waves higher and heavier than buildings roll over you, with the force of a hundred hammers.
(-6 hp, sd)
You feel your nose, your lips, burning because of the salt. Thirst clutches your throat, but drinking the ocean water would give you no relief.
(-4 hp, sd)
You keep struggling, your mind totally absorbed in the effort of surviving. You won't let the elements smother you. You won't accept defeat without fighting.
(-5 hp, sd)
Your clothes, your uniform, are not up to the task. They rip, or entangle you, and you're forced to slip out of them, the cold waters gnawing at the heat in your bones.
(-2 hp, sd)
The flashes and lightnings shine over the desperate quest of a man to remain alive, as every sense of time disappears.
(-6 hp, sd).
Just when your body is about to give up and to slip into cold fatal unconsciousness (-1 hp, sd) you notice that the wind is getting feebler. Soon the waves aren't so high and violent anymore. As you catch your breath for long minutes, floating on calmer waters, the thread of clouds lets some wonderful, pure, warm, golden sun rays through.
(1 hp left
)
You have to fight against the might of the sea, that wins even over stone.
(-6 hp, subdual damage)
Barely remaining above water is an effort that slowly drains your strength.
(-1 hp,sd )
The maddening winds of the storm keep blowing foam in your eyes, nearly blinding you.
(-2 hp, sd)
Waves higher and heavier than buildings roll over you, with the force of a hundred hammers.
(-6 hp, sd)
You feel your nose, your lips, burning because of the salt. Thirst clutches your throat, but drinking the ocean water would give you no relief.
(-4 hp, sd)
You keep struggling, your mind totally absorbed in the effort of surviving. You won't let the elements smother you. You won't accept defeat without fighting.
(-5 hp, sd)
Your clothes, your uniform, are not up to the task. They rip, or entangle you, and you're forced to slip out of them, the cold waters gnawing at the heat in your bones.
(-2 hp, sd)
The flashes and lightnings shine over the desperate quest of a man to remain alive, as every sense of time disappears.
(-6 hp, sd).
Just when your body is about to give up and to slip into cold fatal unconsciousness (-1 hp, sd) you notice that the wind is getting feebler. Soon the waves aren't so high and violent anymore. As you catch your breath for long minutes, floating on calmer waters, the thread of clouds lets some wonderful, pure, warm, golden sun rays through.
(1 hp left
)
Festy_Dog
First Post
Saxon coughs and wheezes as the salt seems to burn him inside and out.
The worst is over, it seems.
He bobs listlessly in the water for a minute, watching the aftermath of the storm. The sun's presence is a welcome change, beaming warmth into his near-frozen body. He wills his arms into motion and feebly wheezes out a minor spell.
[ooc: lesser vigor]
The worst is over, it seems.
He bobs listlessly in the water for a minute, watching the aftermath of the storm. The sun's presence is a welcome change, beaming warmth into his near-frozen body. He wills his arms into motion and feebly wheezes out a minor spell.
[ooc: lesser vigor]
Lichtenhart
First Post
Just as you begin to think there's no sentinel around, you nearly walk into one. Both you and the human widen your eyes in surprise but you're the first to react. The spear you were carrying finds a way into his throat, and his shout of alarm dies in blood. This wood doesn't offer you many hiding places, but you played here when you were a child, and you know them owl. You crawl into a brush at the end of the trees, and as an owl cries above you see the Blazehorn chieftain - you know it's him, because he wears the ceremonial cloak, with enormous horns covered in iron, gold and blood on his hood - entering the Blackfang chief's tent.
Lichtenhart
First Post
Lulled by the waters, you feel your energy slowly recovering. Gently floating, you feel as if you were no more than a drop of water in the ocean, you feel as one with the whole universe. Your senses spread in every direction, untill they encompass the whole ocean, its chilling depths, the lands far away, the mountain peaks, every cloud swimming in the vast sky, the moon, the stars, the sun. You can hear the song of the heartbeat of every living thing.
As a wide rainbow appear as a smile over you, you hear a voice, coming from every direction at once.
Remember. Remember this moment, and its precious lesson. Never lose your faith in yourself. Tell your mates too. Remember.
You look at the sky, and the sun blinds you for a moment. You instictively shield your eyes, and when you see again you realize that you have worked in the shadow for much of the morning, but now the sun shines above the little farm. For an instant you have the weirdest sensation, you feel somewhat small, but then you shrug it away and go back to work. The picture of the storm is nearly done, you have only some lightnings left to do.
You pause for a moment looking at the picture. Frowning, you think it reminds you of something, but you just can't tell what.
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