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In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
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<blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 1871505" data-attributes="member: 22792"><p><strong>Chapter Five Continued</strong></p><p></p><p>As we can all see...I always update right after that boom boom yeti mage posts something here. So, enjoy this next part of the chapter...that will explain Fune's paladinhood a bit (which consequentially I only recently in game told them about).</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Funeris’ eyes peeled open. The entire world had gone gray. As he climbed to his feet, not a leaf stirred and not a sound was made. Reflexively, he reached for the final arrow that had pierced his throat, bringing the darkness.</p><p></p><p>But his hand just grasped empty air. His eyes darted toward his other wounds but there were none, just bloodstains on his body and armor. The soreness of an overly long journey still washed over his body, but no pain from his wounds echoed through his muscles.</p><p></p><p>As his worry about his wounds faded, another replaced the vacant spot in his mind. Where had his new friends gone?</p><p></p><p>Funeris was still in the proximity of the last battle. They should be nearby. But his searching revealed nothing. The vines and plant-life that had constrained the dwem still looked vivid and alive. He took a step toward it, but nothing moved. He couldn’t even see the dwem that were confined to that living prison. </p><p></p><p>Funeris sighed as he sat and pondered what he was going to do. Even the summer breeze seemed to have disappeared on this accursed day.</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Magnus had watched that last nasty arrow pierce Funeris’ neck. Hell, the spurt of blood had nearly hit me, the mage thought. Motega had since maneuvered back into the dwem’s line of sight. Magnus wasn’t sure what was scarier, the fact that the dwem never seemed to run out of bolts or that Motega was roaring at the top of his lungs and firing back.</p><p></p><p>Magnus slinked along the ground, covered by Motega’s own body and gradually pulled up beside Funeris. Funeris’ eyes had rolled up into his head with only the whites showing. An ashen pale had fallen over his body and blood still flowed feely from the last wound. </p><p></p><p>“D@mn.” Magnus rummaged over the body. “I know he had it here somewhere.” A poorly aimed bolt flew above Magnus’ head and the young mage embraced the ground.</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>On the other side of the battle, Calyx and Fitz had teamed up against the other two dwem that had not been imprisoned in the writhing vines. But through either the quality of the armor of the delve durven or their own inexperience with battle, the little buggers managed to evade their attacks. And although both Calyx and Fitz were missing, the durven were not so ineffectual in battle.</p><p></p><p>If something miraculous did not happen soon, Fitz knew he’d be meeting his goddess this fine day.</p><p></p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Funeris had been sitting on an old, dirty stump for what had seemed an eternity. In his head, he was rationalizing the reasons he could not possibly be dead. At the top of that list, his now questionable beliefs in Morduk resided. Morduk could have had no reason to leave me in a hell as endless as this, he thought.</p><p></p><p>As he sat there, lost in thought, a sudden radiance, not unlike the parting of clouds on a stormy day, fell upon his countenance. He glanced upward, not having felt that warmth since before the last arrow had struck.</p><p></p><p>His eyes stopped their upward glance, upon a woman. Well, at first she looked like a woman. Until his eyes adjusted and took in her full form. Huge, feathered, white wings protruded from her back and stretched upward. Despite their size, the wings glowed of an intrinsic grace. Just as her eyes, crystal blue glowed of a beauty and strength he had never seen in the eyes of a mortal.</p><p></p><p>Golden locks of hair spurted from her head and fell upon her shoulders as water cascading down a fall. Her radiance seemed increased by her full plate mail that shined with its own inner light. And in her hands rested a great sword. The great sword was of a quality Funeris was sure he’d never see again.</p><p></p><p>“My lady,” he started as he dropped to his knees.</p><p></p><p>“Stand up, Tobias.” Her voice and manner were somehow familiar and radiant as her form. The warmth of her breath brought him as near to ecstasy as he had even been.</p><p></p><p>“You know me, my lady?” Funeris’ confusion grew a bit with the use of his real name.</p><p></p><p>“Yes I do, Tobias. And you really should use your real name. Your grandfather’s name is not appropriate for the life you will lead.”</p><p></p><p>“And what life is that, my lady?”</p><p></p><p>“You are to be one of my swords, Tobias.”</p><p></p><p>“But, I am a servant to Morduk. Am I to serve you both?” Funeris’ eyes darted to the ground as her radiant eyes turned for a moment to cold steel.</p><p></p><p>“You do not serve that…god.” Her voice sounded full of insult on the last word. “You were meant for more than their foolish games. You will help me purge this world of evil. You will be a beacon of truth, of light for the lost creatures trapped within those petty gods’ games.”</p><p></p><p>“How my lady?”</p><p></p><p>“If you have faith, dear Tobias,” her voice softened to its former sweet sensuality, “you will know. And I will be there to help you, as I have been for your entire life.”</p><p></p><p>It was only after that last statement, that Funeris noticed the bloodstains that covered her armor and weaponry. Even her perfect white feathers, covered with blood, still shone with purity.</p><p></p><p>“My lady?”</p><p></p><p>“You may call me Reddel my faithful Tobias. What is it?”</p><p></p><p>“Am I not dead then?”</p><p></p><p>“No, dear sweet boy. Prepare yourself, because you’re about to go back.”</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Magnus grabbed the minor healing potion out of Funeris’ satchel.</p><p></p><p>“Did you have to hide it in that bag of yours?” he hissed as he popped the cork. The contents of the vial splashed into Funeris’ mouth, trickling down into the darkness of his throat. As Magnus watched, the neck wound quickly resealed, preventing the loss of any more blood. Funeris’ eyes flickered open as Magnus slid the great sword into the man-child’s hands.</p><p></p><p>But Tobias let the sword hit the ground again as he stood, grabbing an arrow from his quiver. The arrow was nocked and drawn before he was completely on his feet. Once standing, a quick step to the left of the howling Rorn gave him a clear line of sight of the durven that had nearly sent him to his death.</p><p></p><p>A split second later, Tobias returned the favor, an arrow between the durven’s crossed eyes, and another one in hand.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Funeris, post: 1871505, member: 22792"] [b]Chapter Five Continued[/b] As we can all see...I always update right after that boom boom yeti mage posts something here. So, enjoy this next part of the chapter...that will explain Fune's paladinhood a bit (which consequentially I only recently in game told them about). -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Funeris’ eyes peeled open. The entire world had gone gray. As he climbed to his feet, not a leaf stirred and not a sound was made. Reflexively, he reached for the final arrow that had pierced his throat, bringing the darkness. But his hand just grasped empty air. His eyes darted toward his other wounds but there were none, just bloodstains on his body and armor. The soreness of an overly long journey still washed over his body, but no pain from his wounds echoed through his muscles. As his worry about his wounds faded, another replaced the vacant spot in his mind. Where had his new friends gone? Funeris was still in the proximity of the last battle. They should be nearby. But his searching revealed nothing. The vines and plant-life that had constrained the dwem still looked vivid and alive. He took a step toward it, but nothing moved. He couldn’t even see the dwem that were confined to that living prison. Funeris sighed as he sat and pondered what he was going to do. Even the summer breeze seemed to have disappeared on this accursed day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus had watched that last nasty arrow pierce Funeris’ neck. Hell, the spurt of blood had nearly hit me, the mage thought. Motega had since maneuvered back into the dwem’s line of sight. Magnus wasn’t sure what was scarier, the fact that the dwem never seemed to run out of bolts or that Motega was roaring at the top of his lungs and firing back. Magnus slinked along the ground, covered by Motega’s own body and gradually pulled up beside Funeris. Funeris’ eyes had rolled up into his head with only the whites showing. An ashen pale had fallen over his body and blood still flowed feely from the last wound. “D@mn.” Magnus rummaged over the body. “I know he had it here somewhere.” A poorly aimed bolt flew above Magnus’ head and the young mage embraced the ground. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- On the other side of the battle, Calyx and Fitz had teamed up against the other two dwem that had not been imprisoned in the writhing vines. But through either the quality of the armor of the delve durven or their own inexperience with battle, the little buggers managed to evade their attacks. And although both Calyx and Fitz were missing, the durven were not so ineffectual in battle. If something miraculous did not happen soon, Fitz knew he’d be meeting his goddess this fine day. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Funeris had been sitting on an old, dirty stump for what had seemed an eternity. In his head, he was rationalizing the reasons he could not possibly be dead. At the top of that list, his now questionable beliefs in Morduk resided. Morduk could have had no reason to leave me in a hell as endless as this, he thought. As he sat there, lost in thought, a sudden radiance, not unlike the parting of clouds on a stormy day, fell upon his countenance. He glanced upward, not having felt that warmth since before the last arrow had struck. His eyes stopped their upward glance, upon a woman. Well, at first she looked like a woman. Until his eyes adjusted and took in her full form. Huge, feathered, white wings protruded from her back and stretched upward. Despite their size, the wings glowed of an intrinsic grace. Just as her eyes, crystal blue glowed of a beauty and strength he had never seen in the eyes of a mortal. Golden locks of hair spurted from her head and fell upon her shoulders as water cascading down a fall. Her radiance seemed increased by her full plate mail that shined with its own inner light. And in her hands rested a great sword. The great sword was of a quality Funeris was sure he’d never see again. “My lady,” he started as he dropped to his knees. “Stand up, Tobias.” Her voice and manner were somehow familiar and radiant as her form. The warmth of her breath brought him as near to ecstasy as he had even been. “You know me, my lady?” Funeris’ confusion grew a bit with the use of his real name. “Yes I do, Tobias. And you really should use your real name. Your grandfather’s name is not appropriate for the life you will lead.” “And what life is that, my lady?” “You are to be one of my swords, Tobias.” “But, I am a servant to Morduk. Am I to serve you both?” Funeris’ eyes darted to the ground as her radiant eyes turned for a moment to cold steel. “You do not serve that…god.” Her voice sounded full of insult on the last word. “You were meant for more than their foolish games. You will help me purge this world of evil. You will be a beacon of truth, of light for the lost creatures trapped within those petty gods’ games.” “How my lady?” “If you have faith, dear Tobias,” her voice softened to its former sweet sensuality, “you will know. And I will be there to help you, as I have been for your entire life.” It was only after that last statement, that Funeris noticed the bloodstains that covered her armor and weaponry. Even her perfect white feathers, covered with blood, still shone with purity. “My lady?” “You may call me Reddel my faithful Tobias. What is it?” “Am I not dead then?” “No, dear sweet boy. Prepare yourself, because you’re about to go back.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus grabbed the minor healing potion out of Funeris’ satchel. “Did you have to hide it in that bag of yours?” he hissed as he popped the cork. The contents of the vial splashed into Funeris’ mouth, trickling down into the darkness of his throat. As Magnus watched, the neck wound quickly resealed, preventing the loss of any more blood. Funeris’ eyes flickered open as Magnus slid the great sword into the man-child’s hands. But Tobias let the sword hit the ground again as he stood, grabbing an arrow from his quiver. The arrow was nocked and drawn before he was completely on his feet. Once standing, a quick step to the left of the howling Rorn gave him a clear line of sight of the durven that had nearly sent him to his death. A split second later, Tobias returned the favor, an arrow between the durven’s crossed eyes, and another one in hand. [/QUOTE]
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