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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Archon Basileus" data-source="post: 7113014" data-attributes="member: 6855545">HAGADARK (N-23)The alchemist watches the chosen sacrifice. Nothing happens at first, but as the trails of blood mix up, Tugg-Face-Biter lowers his head, closing his eyes for a second. As he glances Hagadark once more, the pure-blood’s eyes shine like two red stars in the dark. Mhuagra, keeper of Mysteries, walks among her kin once more. “First things first, shaman” – her cryptic, dark voice echoes through the halls, no trace of Tugg-Face-Biter left in it. “I warned that creature of the consequences of betraying my trust. She scavenged my knowledge, used my words, took my wisdom and shunned away her duties. She should have taken me to the mountains, and such a thing never happened. Now she has to pay the price…” – she starts in the opposite direction, under the startled looks of the others.The remaining pure-bloods stare at Hagadark, waiting for an explanation, hands on clubs and axes. Klutha reaches for her weapon, circling Hagadark and preparing to defend him. She glances quickly over her shoulder, waiting for his words. Tugg – or Mhuagra – keeps moving back through the caves, as if expecting the others to  follow her.“Never trust a half-blood…” – the heavy voice of a pure-blood rises on a menacing tone. Mhuagra slowly stops, turning over her shoulder, as if to see the events unfold. Noise would bring the giant creature straight to them, and the spirit knows it. She waits, contemplating the situation with mocking curiosity.[Oook.... How do you sort this out?]MARIUS/MORGRYM (N-19)The trio goes around the area, passing the watchers unnoticed. As they reach the eastern part of the camp, the group splits. Marius moves west, finding a beaten path, not unlike a dirt road, driving into the encampment. As he moves forward, the trio sees from their distinct positions four horsemen coming into the area at full speed. They explode out of the dark, no torches in hand, and plunge into the camp, reaching a clearance between the tents. The four dismount, and from a central pavilion two dwarves, a male and a female, come out. Both are clad in armor, a full plate for the male and a corselet for the female. They meet the travelers out in the open, a dozen soldiers watching the commotion as a few others leave their tents as well.“What news?” – the clad man yells, so everyone can hear. Apprehension dominates the camp.“The Helen’s shut. Lizards all over. But we managed to keep the rest intact.” – the leader of the riders salutes the ironclad man and bow to the woman.“The odrosan?” “Stanting strong at the walls. We hold the docks. If you ask me, it’ll die out long before it leaves the Helen’s.” – he answers, taking a pair of dusty gloves off.“Grontar?” – she asks.“We don’t know…” – the messenger lowers his head. She looks to her side, to the man.“The Enslaver?” – the other one says, much to the surprise and disappointment of the woman.“They left in time… I believe they made it out. But all was in ruins. We couldn’t follow.”The man returns her surprised glance.“He knew the risks involved…” – he says.“We must return.” – her hardened face shows a glimpse of concern.“No.” – his stern face turns to the messenger once more. “Did you send scouts to the desert entrance?”“Yes. They’ll stay put. Maybe go down if they find a way.”“Fine. Send some scouts with fresh horses. Lest they find them, lead them to Dram. The agreement is only good if he gets the damn thing. The rest of you, arm yourselves. Maran stands and we have plenty to do.” – he turns to the woman. “Get to Kaladrias. We need them.” “I will not leave my husband… Your father… behin..”“GO!” – he yells back. “We need Kaladrias on our side! Without them…” – he falls silent for a moment, his inflexible face showing small empathy for her. “You are the only one I can trust to do this.”She nods, clearly discontent. “I’ll abide. For now.” – she says, before entering the pavilion once more.“What are you waiting for, Braves? MOVE! The profane gods of a demon-city themselves challenge you to a fight! We’ll storm the gates of that accursed place and we’ll bring them down, ONCE AND FOR ALL!” – men yell all around, despite the ragged aspect of the camp. Soon enough, they’re preparing a line, far less generous than one would desire. As for their clad leader, he proceeds to issue commands to the riders on a hushed tone.[Risks are far greater if you want to listen to this one. Wanna go for it? If so, give me a new stealth roll!]<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...hI-57fVXA/edit" target="_blank">https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...hI-57fVXA/edit</a> @<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=24380" target="_blank">Neurotic</a> @<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=87106" target="_blank">MetaVoid</a> @<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6801311" target="_blank">KahlessNestor</a></blockquote>

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