In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
- Thread starter Funeris
- Start date
Funeris
First Post
Hey, if anyone want to root me on at the Ceramic DM contest, here's the link:
http://www.enworld.org/showthread.p...558#post2578558
I just posted my first entry. (Praying it goes well)
~Fune
http://www.enworld.org/showthread.p...558#post2578558
I just posted my first entry. (Praying it goes well)
~Fune
Funeris
First Post
Chapter Somenumber: Minetown
Well its been over two months...time for an update.
~Fune
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The dimming sky fled past the riders, their horses bent hard to the west riding against a foul wind. Soon enough, they were gone from the lands they easily recognized, the verdant—if recently desolate from draught—hills of Dun Moor, Dun Beric, Llyndofare and even Marchford passed away to the east, vanishing from sight. The more recent locale of Andoric’s Steps, the home of Tobias Abel’s raped childhood, also disappeared into the hazy horizon behind the heroes.
The sparse vegetation that blossomed from the hills around the Steps quickly receded to the domination of the softly shifting wheat upon the Traitor’s Plains. With the sun setting, the Heroes decided to slow; soon would be the time to set camp and the horses were tiring from the long ride.
Motega pulled up short, the small Rorn yanking hard against the reins. His steed kicked up, balancing on its powerful hind legs. Not five paces away, a creature rose from the wheat. It barked a command from its loose jowls, dog-like cheeks. Nearby, four other of the beasts rose and stood, bows trained upon the Heroes of Marchford.
“You stop trespassers!” It barked toward the Rorn. Motega slowed his horse to a halt with Magnus drawing up close beside. Tobias and Fitz, placed their hands upon their weapons, trotting their horses farther forward. “STOP or DIE! YOU TRESPASS UPON OUR LAND!!!” the gnollish creature bellowed in broken Valusian. Fitz and Tobias disobeyed again, horses strutting ever farther from the party. The beast roared; its companions unleashed a volley of arrows.
Motega sighed in resignation, rolling backward off his horse while readying his bow. Hitting the dirt, the Rornman crouched low, letting fly two arrows. Both struck true, dropping the roven leader to the earth, his body lurching in its death throes.
Tobias leapt from his horse, running to engage two of the creatures in steel-against-steel combat. Fitz slowly slid from his horse, shifting a wand to the ready while preparing his scythe. An arrow ricocheted off his full plate, shattering into bits of splintered wood.
Magnus nearly fell from his steed, yanking the horse’s long mane to keep upright. Two of the roven rushed the seemingly unarmed child, only to be pummeled back by the Rorn’s arrows. They glanced to the side as Tobias’ blade hacked hungrily through one of their kin and dove into the second. Both dropped to the earth, blood feeding the thirsty earth.
As they wavered between choices, Magnus finished his incantation. An orb of fire leapt from his hand, sailed across the air and detonated in-between the two. Both were engulfed in a mass of fire. They turned to flee, their already dead bodies falling not far from the scorched earth.
Motega shouldered his bow, grabbed the horse and swung up to the top. “That was a foolish mistake,” the Rornman hissed at the paladin. “They were not our enemies. They may have desired knowledge on why we passed, may have even requested some form of payment for traveling their lands. But they were not enemies.”
“They were nothing but petty bandits,” the paladin growled his rationalization.
“No. They were, are a tribe. And now you have committed slaughter against their people. We will find no rest here tonight. We ride for another day.” The Rorn glared ahead, spurring the exhausted animal into motion. The other heroes groaned, climbing onto their horses to follow.
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The campfire slowly dwindled, casting an ever smaller radius of light around the sleeping heroes. Motega had waited for the rest to fall asleep before approaching Tobias cautiously.
“I am sorry I was so coarse with you before,” the Rorn half-apologized. “I once traveled with a band of Roven and they are not so different from my own people.”
Tobias grunted, continuing to sharpen his great sword.
“In the future, though, if you are to lead us, you will need to use a little more thought. We should not battle if it is not necessary.” The Rornman turned quietly to return to his bed but the paladin’s arm shot out and caught him.
“I value your wisdom and your friendship,” Tobias replied.
“And I yours, angel-blessed. Who has next watch?”
“Magnus.”
“Perhaps I should remain awake then,” the Rorn added. “He has been...distracted of late.”
“Yes, the damned child has been doing nothing but scribbling on his papers for the entire journey.” Tobias sighed, unsure of what the crafty mage was up to.
“True, it has been quieter,” Motega grinned. “It’s a bad moon tonight, friend.” The Rorn stared upward into the clear sky. There hung an engorged, red orb. “Keep your eyes open.” With those last words, the Rorn returned to his bed and lie down to a restless sleep.
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Motega’s eyes flitted open and shut–the light from the bloodied moon above tearing at the edges of his consciousness. For a moment, the Rorn drifted back into memories of his homeland; to the memories of his exile.
The cool ground had felt good beneath his bare feet. Above, a full moon had danced halfway across the night sky. But the illumination from the orb was silenced by the flickering torches encircling the battlefield. Motega stared at his brother, waiting at the other edge of the ring, waiting for the trial of blood.
A low horn echoed across the valley and both brothers raised the ceremonial spears, charging to battle. Meeting in the center, the two danced together with a flurry of harsh blows, constantly circling. The wooden shafts clattered off each other, deflecting blows that could kill and turning the crude blade just enough to inflict jagged scratches.
But Motega knew his brother’s heavy-handed style well, too well. And he was shorter, faster, and more fluid with his motions. Motega cut the haft of the spear downward, blocking a low blow, and spun the shaft in a quick arc, smashing his brother’s fingers. The sound of bone cracking retorted within the slim valley’s earthen walls.
Motega stepped in, spinning the blade down, tearing a bloody rent through his brother’s wrist and causing the slower, but stronger man to fall away without his weapon. He lifted his spear for the killing blow but was stopped by surprise as his brother, his blood convulsed. His brother’s flesh contorted and stretched like water under duress.
Motega’s brother was neither human nor beast but some creature between.
A wicked baying erupted around the circle as the beast leapt with preternatural speed from its prone position. Motega brought the spear up to block but the beast’s claws snapped the wood in half. After splintering the wood, the claw dug upward, rending flesh. Motega was in the air, falling backward into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, Motega found himself bandaged and still lying within the circle. The daylight had revealed the valley’s emptiness. The battle had been lost. Motega was alone.
The Rorn snapped his eyes opened. A familiar baying drifted upon the wind. As he leapt upward, already reaching for the blade, a man-sized beast burst into the clearing. Magnus yelped as the monster closed an impossible distance, its large snout clamping shut around the mage’s arm.
“ATTACK!!!” Motega roared, charging toward the beast. Three large, wolf-like animals dove into the clearing, one tearing toward the Rorn, the other two heading toward the other companions.
Magnus’ screams awoke Fitz and Tobias, both scrambling to grab their weapons. Tobias brought his sword around, managing to deflect one of the wolf-creatures. Fitz, at far end of the camp was left unmolested, giving him a chance to gather his usual gear.
Motega jumped over the first of the wolf-like animals, his sword arcing downward and lacerating the beast’s back. “Don’t let them bite you!” he shrieked as he pivoted toward the largest of the beasts, still attached to the mage’s arm.
The smaller wolf had different plans as it spun and charged, fangs bared. Motega was forced to pivot and defend, his sword keeping the infectious teeth at bay.
Magnus reached out, a burst of flame scorching the creature clamped tightly about his wrist. It yelped, backing away. Magnus immediately recognized the above average intelligence burning within its hairy face. He quickly prepared another spell.
Tobias’ blade lobbed off the head of the small beast. The paladin charged toward Magnus, inserting his body between the mage and beast.
Motega’s sword gouged a deep, bubbling hole through the ribcage of the wolf. It collapsed to earth with a yelp. He turned to the side, preparing to charge the creature he knew as a lycanthrope when another of the wolves blocked his path. He screamed in fury, hacking back and forth with the sword, keeping the wolf on the defensive.
The intelligent beast regarded its unarmored opponent for only a split second before running forward, claws slashing and maw clamping. Tobias ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding its powerful jaws. The paladin swung the great sword up and around, and brought it down through the limb. The severed paw fell to the ground, twitching. The beast yelped, leaping back and Tobias strode forward powerfully. His sword darted out, high and low, too fast for a weapon so unwieldy. The beast avoided the bluffed attacks, not noting the subtle changes in the warrior’s body. Tobias steadied his form and as his blade danced in and low again, he twisted his torso. The great sword whistled as he pivoted, digging clean through the monster’s neck. The obvious surprise was etched in the beast’s face as its detached head fell to the ground.
The Rornman bellowed, dropping the final wolf.
“I hope it was okay that we killed these,” Tobias haughtily stated as we moved to wipe the blood from his blade.
“Perfectly acceptable,” the Rorn replied. “I have no problem with killing a lycanthrope, especially one that attacks us.”
Tobias stared increduously at the Rorn before turning to the beast’s detached head. In its place sat the horrified visage of a human, scraggily of beard but no more animal than Fitz. Magnus’ eyes fell toward the ground. “Oh sh*t.”
Well its been over two months...time for an update.
~Fune
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dimming sky fled past the riders, their horses bent hard to the west riding against a foul wind. Soon enough, they were gone from the lands they easily recognized, the verdant—if recently desolate from draught—hills of Dun Moor, Dun Beric, Llyndofare and even Marchford passed away to the east, vanishing from sight. The more recent locale of Andoric’s Steps, the home of Tobias Abel’s raped childhood, also disappeared into the hazy horizon behind the heroes.
The sparse vegetation that blossomed from the hills around the Steps quickly receded to the domination of the softly shifting wheat upon the Traitor’s Plains. With the sun setting, the Heroes decided to slow; soon would be the time to set camp and the horses were tiring from the long ride.
Motega pulled up short, the small Rorn yanking hard against the reins. His steed kicked up, balancing on its powerful hind legs. Not five paces away, a creature rose from the wheat. It barked a command from its loose jowls, dog-like cheeks. Nearby, four other of the beasts rose and stood, bows trained upon the Heroes of Marchford.
“You stop trespassers!” It barked toward the Rorn. Motega slowed his horse to a halt with Magnus drawing up close beside. Tobias and Fitz, placed their hands upon their weapons, trotting their horses farther forward. “STOP or DIE! YOU TRESPASS UPON OUR LAND!!!” the gnollish creature bellowed in broken Valusian. Fitz and Tobias disobeyed again, horses strutting ever farther from the party. The beast roared; its companions unleashed a volley of arrows.
Motega sighed in resignation, rolling backward off his horse while readying his bow. Hitting the dirt, the Rornman crouched low, letting fly two arrows. Both struck true, dropping the roven leader to the earth, his body lurching in its death throes.
Tobias leapt from his horse, running to engage two of the creatures in steel-against-steel combat. Fitz slowly slid from his horse, shifting a wand to the ready while preparing his scythe. An arrow ricocheted off his full plate, shattering into bits of splintered wood.
Magnus nearly fell from his steed, yanking the horse’s long mane to keep upright. Two of the roven rushed the seemingly unarmed child, only to be pummeled back by the Rorn’s arrows. They glanced to the side as Tobias’ blade hacked hungrily through one of their kin and dove into the second. Both dropped to the earth, blood feeding the thirsty earth.
As they wavered between choices, Magnus finished his incantation. An orb of fire leapt from his hand, sailed across the air and detonated in-between the two. Both were engulfed in a mass of fire. They turned to flee, their already dead bodies falling not far from the scorched earth.
Motega shouldered his bow, grabbed the horse and swung up to the top. “That was a foolish mistake,” the Rornman hissed at the paladin. “They were not our enemies. They may have desired knowledge on why we passed, may have even requested some form of payment for traveling their lands. But they were not enemies.”
“They were nothing but petty bandits,” the paladin growled his rationalization.
“No. They were, are a tribe. And now you have committed slaughter against their people. We will find no rest here tonight. We ride for another day.” The Rorn glared ahead, spurring the exhausted animal into motion. The other heroes groaned, climbing onto their horses to follow.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The campfire slowly dwindled, casting an ever smaller radius of light around the sleeping heroes. Motega had waited for the rest to fall asleep before approaching Tobias cautiously.
“I am sorry I was so coarse with you before,” the Rorn half-apologized. “I once traveled with a band of Roven and they are not so different from my own people.”
Tobias grunted, continuing to sharpen his great sword.
“In the future, though, if you are to lead us, you will need to use a little more thought. We should not battle if it is not necessary.” The Rornman turned quietly to return to his bed but the paladin’s arm shot out and caught him.
“I value your wisdom and your friendship,” Tobias replied.
“And I yours, angel-blessed. Who has next watch?”
“Magnus.”
“Perhaps I should remain awake then,” the Rorn added. “He has been...distracted of late.”
“Yes, the damned child has been doing nothing but scribbling on his papers for the entire journey.” Tobias sighed, unsure of what the crafty mage was up to.
“True, it has been quieter,” Motega grinned. “It’s a bad moon tonight, friend.” The Rorn stared upward into the clear sky. There hung an engorged, red orb. “Keep your eyes open.” With those last words, the Rorn returned to his bed and lie down to a restless sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Motega’s eyes flitted open and shut–the light from the bloodied moon above tearing at the edges of his consciousness. For a moment, the Rorn drifted back into memories of his homeland; to the memories of his exile.
The cool ground had felt good beneath his bare feet. Above, a full moon had danced halfway across the night sky. But the illumination from the orb was silenced by the flickering torches encircling the battlefield. Motega stared at his brother, waiting at the other edge of the ring, waiting for the trial of blood.
A low horn echoed across the valley and both brothers raised the ceremonial spears, charging to battle. Meeting in the center, the two danced together with a flurry of harsh blows, constantly circling. The wooden shafts clattered off each other, deflecting blows that could kill and turning the crude blade just enough to inflict jagged scratches.
But Motega knew his brother’s heavy-handed style well, too well. And he was shorter, faster, and more fluid with his motions. Motega cut the haft of the spear downward, blocking a low blow, and spun the shaft in a quick arc, smashing his brother’s fingers. The sound of bone cracking retorted within the slim valley’s earthen walls.
Motega stepped in, spinning the blade down, tearing a bloody rent through his brother’s wrist and causing the slower, but stronger man to fall away without his weapon. He lifted his spear for the killing blow but was stopped by surprise as his brother, his blood convulsed. His brother’s flesh contorted and stretched like water under duress.
Motega’s brother was neither human nor beast but some creature between.
A wicked baying erupted around the circle as the beast leapt with preternatural speed from its prone position. Motega brought the spear up to block but the beast’s claws snapped the wood in half. After splintering the wood, the claw dug upward, rending flesh. Motega was in the air, falling backward into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, Motega found himself bandaged and still lying within the circle. The daylight had revealed the valley’s emptiness. The battle had been lost. Motega was alone.
The Rorn snapped his eyes opened. A familiar baying drifted upon the wind. As he leapt upward, already reaching for the blade, a man-sized beast burst into the clearing. Magnus yelped as the monster closed an impossible distance, its large snout clamping shut around the mage’s arm.
“ATTACK!!!” Motega roared, charging toward the beast. Three large, wolf-like animals dove into the clearing, one tearing toward the Rorn, the other two heading toward the other companions.
Magnus’ screams awoke Fitz and Tobias, both scrambling to grab their weapons. Tobias brought his sword around, managing to deflect one of the wolf-creatures. Fitz, at far end of the camp was left unmolested, giving him a chance to gather his usual gear.
Motega jumped over the first of the wolf-like animals, his sword arcing downward and lacerating the beast’s back. “Don’t let them bite you!” he shrieked as he pivoted toward the largest of the beasts, still attached to the mage’s arm.
The smaller wolf had different plans as it spun and charged, fangs bared. Motega was forced to pivot and defend, his sword keeping the infectious teeth at bay.
Magnus reached out, a burst of flame scorching the creature clamped tightly about his wrist. It yelped, backing away. Magnus immediately recognized the above average intelligence burning within its hairy face. He quickly prepared another spell.
Tobias’ blade lobbed off the head of the small beast. The paladin charged toward Magnus, inserting his body between the mage and beast.
Motega’s sword gouged a deep, bubbling hole through the ribcage of the wolf. It collapsed to earth with a yelp. He turned to the side, preparing to charge the creature he knew as a lycanthrope when another of the wolves blocked his path. He screamed in fury, hacking back and forth with the sword, keeping the wolf on the defensive.
The intelligent beast regarded its unarmored opponent for only a split second before running forward, claws slashing and maw clamping. Tobias ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding its powerful jaws. The paladin swung the great sword up and around, and brought it down through the limb. The severed paw fell to the ground, twitching. The beast yelped, leaping back and Tobias strode forward powerfully. His sword darted out, high and low, too fast for a weapon so unwieldy. The beast avoided the bluffed attacks, not noting the subtle changes in the warrior’s body. Tobias steadied his form and as his blade danced in and low again, he twisted his torso. The great sword whistled as he pivoted, digging clean through the monster’s neck. The obvious surprise was etched in the beast’s face as its detached head fell to the ground.
The Rornman bellowed, dropping the final wolf.
“I hope it was okay that we killed these,” Tobias haughtily stated as we moved to wipe the blood from his blade.
“Perfectly acceptable,” the Rorn replied. “I have no problem with killing a lycanthrope, especially one that attacks us.”
Tobias stared increduously at the Rorn before turning to the beast’s detached head. In its place sat the horrified visage of a human, scraggily of beard but no more animal than Fitz. Magnus’ eyes fell toward the ground. “Oh sh*t.”
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
You know it's never good when the Mage goes 'O 
'
Nope never good at all.
Yeti
'Nope never good at all.
Yeti
OaxacanWarrior
First Post
Funeris said:Well its been over two months...time for an update.
~Fune
A long overdue update! Wahoo! Luckily, I was able to get my fix from the Blade of Phoee.
I can't wait for more! Keep 'em coming.
Funeris
First Post
Long Overdue is definitely an understatement.
And I have been keeping busy with the other SH and life in general. Maybe a part of me wondered if I let it just sit, my views would exponentially increase like PCat's, Sep's, Blackdirge's, Destan's (etc. etc. etc.).
Of course it didn't. And it looked as if it had been forgotten
So, I guess I need to give it a good kick...to get it back up there.
Lucky for everyone, I have a few days off (for my b-day) and I'll be dedicating the majority of my time to writing. So, its possible you may see another update this week!
And of course, possibly one for the other SH as well (cuz I'm an addict like that).
~Fune
And I have been keeping busy with the other SH and life in general. Maybe a part of me wondered if I let it just sit, my views would exponentially increase like PCat's, Sep's, Blackdirge's, Destan's (etc. etc. etc.).
Of course it didn't. And it looked as if it had been forgotten
So, I guess I need to give it a good kick...to get it back up there.
Lucky for everyone, I have a few days off (for my b-day) and I'll be dedicating the majority of my time to writing. So, its possible you may see another update this week!
And of course, possibly one for the other SH as well (cuz I'm an addict like that).
~Fune
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Glad to see you haven't abandoned this story, Funeris.
And I thought I'd drop by to reassure you that I haven't abandoned it either ...
And I thought I'd drop by to reassure you that I haven't abandoned it either ...
Funeris
First Post
Thanks HalfOrc HalfBiscuit! All praise just makes me want to...write more
So..I'll probably update later today sometime...stay tuned. (Would've done it yesterday...but I ended up painting miniatures all day. Considering I bought these minis last year on by birthday...it took me long enough to get a handful of them done).
~Fune
So..I'll probably update later today sometime...stay tuned. (Would've done it yesterday...but I ended up painting miniatures all day. Considering I bought these minis last year on by birthday...it took me long enough to get a handful of them done).
~Fune
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Ha! I have unpainted minis sitting around that I bought nigh on twenty years ago ... but I still fully intended to paint them, one day ... probably.
Funeris
First Post
Haha.
I warn you of one thing then. When you begin to paint them, beware. For not only is the detail required on the part of the painter addictive, it confuses your mind so that any other task in impossible.
I sat down and painted two minis in about three hours yesterday...the first two I've ever actually completed (one is Morrick--Cassock's father in the other SH). And I decided it was time to write again...but I looked at the computer, and my eyes crossed. So I swore...set my table back up...and returned to painting.
(Thankfully I haven't pulled the minis out today. If I did...I'd get nothing done!)
~Fune
I warn you of one thing then. When you begin to paint them, beware. For not only is the detail required on the part of the painter addictive, it confuses your mind so that any other task in impossible.
I sat down and painted two minis in about three hours yesterday...the first two I've ever actually completed (one is Morrick--Cassock's father in the other SH). And I decided it was time to write again...but I looked at the computer, and my eyes crossed. So I swore...set my table back up...and returned to painting.
(Thankfully I haven't pulled the minis out today. If I did...I'd get nothing done!)
~Fune
