-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
Knights of the Daystorm
- Thread starter Jairami
- Start date
I'd just like to say, moving sucks. Oh, and loading 25 ft. Ryder trucks suck. Oh yeah, and driving 25 ft. Ryder trucks from L.A. to Dallas sucks even more. Tired Jairami.
From what Collin and Frederick could piece together, the ship they have commandeered for passage required a crew generally of about twenty. Even if their indentured servants were trustworthy enough to be given a free reign to work, that still left them numbering five sailors and five shorebound land-lovers.
The conspiratorial voice in Khuuld's head seemed to have finished whatever chanting it was that he had been doing for the last week or so and had taken to taunting Khuuld when not giving him some times obvious, and other times not so obvious, bad advice. This was not helping Khuuld's temper--neither would the voyage to come.
Collin came up with the idea of supplementing the people they had with Unseen Servants that could be summoned in pairs and could be stretched (if summoned only two at a time) to last most of the day. After discussing with Caema, the party decided that skirting along the coastline at half-mast shouldn't be impossible for their skeleton crew and they set off with modest ambition to simply follow the coast all the way to the sea port a day's travel north of Galearon.
When their boots were not slipping and sliding on the deck, they were pulling the wrong ropes in the wrong direction. Caema, worried that every mistake would weigh on him did his best not to correct anyone (especially Khuuld) and to simply give new orders to try and correct mistakes. Trying to direct things from his vantage point still rankled with Khuuld and after yet another slip and fall landed him on his rump his temper snapped and it looked Caema was going to lose his head over it.
Frederick managed to talk him down, well, not really, but he did manage to keep Khuuld's sword away from Caema. Khuuld was absolutely boiling inside.
That night strange lights were seen both in the water and on the coast a little way off.
Upon setting out the next day, enough mistakes were made that the sails remained slack despite the wind and little or no progress was made. Furious, Khuuld slammed his fist down on the bannister running along the port side of the ship--and saw a drenched, yellow and black-green creature over six feet long scaling the side of the ship.
Sliding his massive sword from off his shoulder he grinned and played with the notion of not sounding the alarm, but the decision was taken from him as two others hauled themselves over the starboard side. Crewman gave off shouts and ran for cover as the first two straightened and revealed themselves as horribly disfigured female humanoids swathed in rags and seaweed. Two more had made it onboard before the one closest to Khuuld began hauling itself over the bannister.
"Welcome aboard!" Khuuld shouted gleefully as his huge sword slammed into the one nearest him. The large woman had shown impressive strength in her climb and was absolutely hideous to look at, but Khuuld's mighty blow nearly took her head off in a single swing and she fell back into the ocean just barely alive having not even set foot on the deck yet.
Crewman fell wretching to the deck at the sight of the wart and oozing sores of the hags and they leveled dire gazes on any still standing. Frederick met one of these gazes and fell lifeless to the deck, Andrew wiped the vomit from his chin and steeled himself, charging into the fray to place himself in between the starboard hags and the crew. He found out that not only did the things move fast, but they also had long arms--long, *strong* arms--as he was battered just maneuvering into position. Khuuld just grinned, ground his hands into the grip of his sword as his hands twisted around it, and let the rage he had been building wash over him. The hag closest to him rent his chest open as he closed on her but he could hardly feel it as his blade wrenched down in a sickening crunch as he cleft her from collarbone to hip.
Collin finishes his summoning just as terrible wounds open on the flesh of another hag at Tylette's intense stare. The wolf seemingly made of fire that materialized infront of the wounded wretch took advantage of it's pain and sunk its fangs into it, trying to pull it to the ground.
The wounded hag and her closest ally smashed the wolf into the deck, but upon its death it merely dissipated to be replaced by another as Collin finished casting again. The third surviving hag moved to grab one of the cowering crewman. Wrapping the terrified sailor in its monstrous hands, the hag edged towards the edge of the ship until Khuuld's sword burst through her chest from behind.
Still breathing in gurgling gasps, it relinquished its prize and threw itself overboard after taking a huge backhanded swipe at the frothing Khuuld that nearly took *his* head off. The two remaining hags, one injured and with another wolf attached to it, finding themselves routed lurched and fell overboard as well.
Khuuld growled and panted as the red cleared from his vision, but as the severity of his wounds came back to him his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell over bonelessly. The last sound in his ears, the cackling laughter of the mad voice gleefully celebrating.
From what Collin and Frederick could piece together, the ship they have commandeered for passage required a crew generally of about twenty. Even if their indentured servants were trustworthy enough to be given a free reign to work, that still left them numbering five sailors and five shorebound land-lovers.
The conspiratorial voice in Khuuld's head seemed to have finished whatever chanting it was that he had been doing for the last week or so and had taken to taunting Khuuld when not giving him some times obvious, and other times not so obvious, bad advice. This was not helping Khuuld's temper--neither would the voyage to come.
Collin came up with the idea of supplementing the people they had with Unseen Servants that could be summoned in pairs and could be stretched (if summoned only two at a time) to last most of the day. After discussing with Caema, the party decided that skirting along the coastline at half-mast shouldn't be impossible for their skeleton crew and they set off with modest ambition to simply follow the coast all the way to the sea port a day's travel north of Galearon.
When their boots were not slipping and sliding on the deck, they were pulling the wrong ropes in the wrong direction. Caema, worried that every mistake would weigh on him did his best not to correct anyone (especially Khuuld) and to simply give new orders to try and correct mistakes. Trying to direct things from his vantage point still rankled with Khuuld and after yet another slip and fall landed him on his rump his temper snapped and it looked Caema was going to lose his head over it.
Frederick managed to talk him down, well, not really, but he did manage to keep Khuuld's sword away from Caema. Khuuld was absolutely boiling inside.
That night strange lights were seen both in the water and on the coast a little way off.
Upon setting out the next day, enough mistakes were made that the sails remained slack despite the wind and little or no progress was made. Furious, Khuuld slammed his fist down on the bannister running along the port side of the ship--and saw a drenched, yellow and black-green creature over six feet long scaling the side of the ship.
Sliding his massive sword from off his shoulder he grinned and played with the notion of not sounding the alarm, but the decision was taken from him as two others hauled themselves over the starboard side. Crewman gave off shouts and ran for cover as the first two straightened and revealed themselves as horribly disfigured female humanoids swathed in rags and seaweed. Two more had made it onboard before the one closest to Khuuld began hauling itself over the bannister.
"Welcome aboard!" Khuuld shouted gleefully as his huge sword slammed into the one nearest him. The large woman had shown impressive strength in her climb and was absolutely hideous to look at, but Khuuld's mighty blow nearly took her head off in a single swing and she fell back into the ocean just barely alive having not even set foot on the deck yet.
Crewman fell wretching to the deck at the sight of the wart and oozing sores of the hags and they leveled dire gazes on any still standing. Frederick met one of these gazes and fell lifeless to the deck, Andrew wiped the vomit from his chin and steeled himself, charging into the fray to place himself in between the starboard hags and the crew. He found out that not only did the things move fast, but they also had long arms--long, *strong* arms--as he was battered just maneuvering into position. Khuuld just grinned, ground his hands into the grip of his sword as his hands twisted around it, and let the rage he had been building wash over him. The hag closest to him rent his chest open as he closed on her but he could hardly feel it as his blade wrenched down in a sickening crunch as he cleft her from collarbone to hip.
Collin finishes his summoning just as terrible wounds open on the flesh of another hag at Tylette's intense stare. The wolf seemingly made of fire that materialized infront of the wounded wretch took advantage of it's pain and sunk its fangs into it, trying to pull it to the ground.
The wounded hag and her closest ally smashed the wolf into the deck, but upon its death it merely dissipated to be replaced by another as Collin finished casting again. The third surviving hag moved to grab one of the cowering crewman. Wrapping the terrified sailor in its monstrous hands, the hag edged towards the edge of the ship until Khuuld's sword burst through her chest from behind.
Still breathing in gurgling gasps, it relinquished its prize and threw itself overboard after taking a huge backhanded swipe at the frothing Khuuld that nearly took *his* head off. The two remaining hags, one injured and with another wolf attached to it, finding themselves routed lurched and fell overboard as well.
Khuuld growled and panted as the red cleared from his vision, but as the severity of his wounds came back to him his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell over bonelessly. The last sound in his ears, the cackling laughter of the mad voice gleefully celebrating.
Last edited:
As you can probably tell from the lack of direct dialogue, this is still a VERY long time ago, maybe 300+ hours of gaming ago and who knows how much real time ago... But that moment just sticks with me. "Welcome aboard!" *CLANG* ... <groan> ... *SPLASH*
And here I was afraid I was going to rip them all apart limb from limb. Of course, Khuuld was well into negative hitpoints when he dropped and Frederick lay twitching on the deck.. But still..
And here I was afraid I was going to rip them all apart limb from limb. Of course, Khuuld was well into negative hitpoints when he dropped and Frederick lay twitching on the deck.. But still..
Khuuld's body rapidly cooled as it lay on the deck, tendrils of yellowed brown and sickly purple snaking across his body as his lifeblood leeched away. But if there is one thing Khuuld possesses, it is a stubborn determination to live. Before Collin or Andrew could even get to him to bind his wounds, his breathing had stabilized*. While still shallow, he no longer appeared to be dying.
Frederick, besides muscle spasms and uncontrolled twitching, appeared to be alive and unharmed, but he was catatonic.
Dragging them into the crew's quarters, the remaining party set the two of them on bunks to recover. Tylette attempted to administer to their wounds, but without any formal training, the best she could do was try to comfort them. Caema and his mates were clustered below decks, wide-eyed and whispering when Collin found them. He tried to reassure them, but it ended up taking an order to get them moving. Stretching even thinner, they manned the ship as best they could and it limped along to the south.
It took Khuuld three days to wake from his fitful slumber, dried blood adhered old makeshift bandages to the wounds across his upper chest and sides. Stumbling into the daylight the first thing he heard was Tylette's gasp. Khuuld's brush with death apparently had had some negative effects upon him. His black eyes and jet black hair remained unchanged, but his skin had turned the sickly pallor of a week-old bruise, a putrid yellowed brown color. His stretched features were somewhat reminiscent of the gaunt skeletal figure she had seen torturing Khuuld in her vision.
Stumbling over to the edge of the ship he waived her off and dry heaved until he was spitting up blood. Then he collapsed against the banister to sit and in pain trying to recover his strength.
The next morning Frederick came to. Alive and seemingly unharmed he berated himself endlessly for what had happened. To his mind, he had failed his friends and Equitus again. Worse, instead of falling in combat trying to defend his friends, he had passed out in fear. He knew nothing of the hags' supernatural abilities, and looking around and finding himself the only one laid out on a bunk just added further fuel to his growing fire of self-hatred.
As he sat there railing against himself, he was further angered by his inactivity and with that buried his emotions to fester as guilt and began to see about doing what needed to be done. His prayers brought him a sense of peace and forgiveness but he pushed it away brusquely feeling he did not deserve it.
Up on deck, the sails were full and the ship appeared to be making good progress to the south. He nodded to this and then saw Khuuld working the ropes. At the sight of him, Frederick seriously considered pitching himself overboard and letting his armor drag him to what he felt was his duly earned reward. But any self-pity was stomped on promptly by Khuuld who noticed him standing there doing nothing.
Khuuld barked at him, "Yeh're always goin' on 'bout 'ow yeh're gonna tayke care o' me. 'ow it's so bloody important to yeh. But 'ere I em, 'alf-dead an yeh stand there with yer bloomin' mouth hangin' open. Get up 'ere an HEAL me!"
And so he did, but no matter how much of Equitus's blessing he laid upon Khuuld, the bruised pallor of his skin remained. Hanging his head and shoulders sagging, Frederick left Khuuld to his work and sought out Andrew to heal his wounds as well. As it turned out, everyone else was fine, and between making notes on what he had been learning about navigation from Caema and his own observations as they traveled Collin filled Frederick in on the rest of what had happened.
As the days passed, Frederick spent much of his time away from his friends and more in the company of Caema and his men. Dentral seemed to be having an especially hard time. He had been one of two cabin boys under their former captain. Frederick spent his time talking to them of who they were, what they had done, and what must be done. He did his best to befriend them, but they lived in almost perpetual fear. Each new that his life was forfeit, and every time Khuuld lost his temper and lashed out, each saw his end. Frederick did his best to reassure them and calm them and out of it he gained out of necessity a little more skill at sea.
As more time passed, Caema looked to Frederick before called out orders, and eventually he left it to Frederick entirely. The crew had begun calling him "Captain" though what Andrew, Tylette, Collin, and Khuuld thought of that was anyone's guess. Regardless, as Frederick became more used to what needed to be done where and how to keep the ship moving, and Collin became more confident with maps and vectors, applying his love of mathematics and geometry there progress increased significantly. And so it was, that after half a month skirting the coast, Tylette called out from the crow's nest, having spotted a stone wharf jutting out into a sheltered harbor.
As they got closer, they could make out a single wooden house at the end of the wharf and nothing but deep forest in every direction beyond. Consulting his map, Collin tried to explain that as unlikely as it seemed, there was nothing here but the dock, and that Galearon appeared to be at least a full day's, if not two, ride to the south. As they maneuvered into the harbor though Collin forgot all about maps, ships, and nearly everything else as he laid eyes upon the two figures standing upon the dock.
They were shorter than even Collin but were beautifully built with long bones and huge expressive eyes. Their arrow straight hair was broken by long elegant ears that came to points. It was the first time Collin had seen an elf outside of a woodcut in a book.
Each stood motionless, looking the ship up and down, pausing to rest upon each person aboard. Frederick gave the mooring orders but as the crew tossed the lines, the elves did not move and the ropes splashed into the water. Puzzled, they pulled them back aboard and dropped anchor, attempting to dock without aid. Eventually they managed to secure themselves and lower the gangplank, when they did, they found the elves standing to either side of it.
By that time Collin had exhausted the last of his patience and his excitement overcame him. He raced down the gangplank to speak with the elves.
*Khuuld's player actually managed to roll 007 on his first try to stabilize. He was at something like -8 or -9 so it was important. I think I said something Eric's Grandmother wouldn't have approved of at the luck, but I merely attributed it to the voice in Khuuld's head. }
Frederick, besides muscle spasms and uncontrolled twitching, appeared to be alive and unharmed, but he was catatonic.
Dragging them into the crew's quarters, the remaining party set the two of them on bunks to recover. Tylette attempted to administer to their wounds, but without any formal training, the best she could do was try to comfort them. Caema and his mates were clustered below decks, wide-eyed and whispering when Collin found them. He tried to reassure them, but it ended up taking an order to get them moving. Stretching even thinner, they manned the ship as best they could and it limped along to the south.
It took Khuuld three days to wake from his fitful slumber, dried blood adhered old makeshift bandages to the wounds across his upper chest and sides. Stumbling into the daylight the first thing he heard was Tylette's gasp. Khuuld's brush with death apparently had had some negative effects upon him. His black eyes and jet black hair remained unchanged, but his skin had turned the sickly pallor of a week-old bruise, a putrid yellowed brown color. His stretched features were somewhat reminiscent of the gaunt skeletal figure she had seen torturing Khuuld in her vision.
Stumbling over to the edge of the ship he waived her off and dry heaved until he was spitting up blood. Then he collapsed against the banister to sit and in pain trying to recover his strength.
The next morning Frederick came to. Alive and seemingly unharmed he berated himself endlessly for what had happened. To his mind, he had failed his friends and Equitus again. Worse, instead of falling in combat trying to defend his friends, he had passed out in fear. He knew nothing of the hags' supernatural abilities, and looking around and finding himself the only one laid out on a bunk just added further fuel to his growing fire of self-hatred.
As he sat there railing against himself, he was further angered by his inactivity and with that buried his emotions to fester as guilt and began to see about doing what needed to be done. His prayers brought him a sense of peace and forgiveness but he pushed it away brusquely feeling he did not deserve it.
Up on deck, the sails were full and the ship appeared to be making good progress to the south. He nodded to this and then saw Khuuld working the ropes. At the sight of him, Frederick seriously considered pitching himself overboard and letting his armor drag him to what he felt was his duly earned reward. But any self-pity was stomped on promptly by Khuuld who noticed him standing there doing nothing.
Khuuld barked at him, "Yeh're always goin' on 'bout 'ow yeh're gonna tayke care o' me. 'ow it's so bloody important to yeh. But 'ere I em, 'alf-dead an yeh stand there with yer bloomin' mouth hangin' open. Get up 'ere an HEAL me!"
And so he did, but no matter how much of Equitus's blessing he laid upon Khuuld, the bruised pallor of his skin remained. Hanging his head and shoulders sagging, Frederick left Khuuld to his work and sought out Andrew to heal his wounds as well. As it turned out, everyone else was fine, and between making notes on what he had been learning about navigation from Caema and his own observations as they traveled Collin filled Frederick in on the rest of what had happened.
As the days passed, Frederick spent much of his time away from his friends and more in the company of Caema and his men. Dentral seemed to be having an especially hard time. He had been one of two cabin boys under their former captain. Frederick spent his time talking to them of who they were, what they had done, and what must be done. He did his best to befriend them, but they lived in almost perpetual fear. Each new that his life was forfeit, and every time Khuuld lost his temper and lashed out, each saw his end. Frederick did his best to reassure them and calm them and out of it he gained out of necessity a little more skill at sea.
As more time passed, Caema looked to Frederick before called out orders, and eventually he left it to Frederick entirely. The crew had begun calling him "Captain" though what Andrew, Tylette, Collin, and Khuuld thought of that was anyone's guess. Regardless, as Frederick became more used to what needed to be done where and how to keep the ship moving, and Collin became more confident with maps and vectors, applying his love of mathematics and geometry there progress increased significantly. And so it was, that after half a month skirting the coast, Tylette called out from the crow's nest, having spotted a stone wharf jutting out into a sheltered harbor.
As they got closer, they could make out a single wooden house at the end of the wharf and nothing but deep forest in every direction beyond. Consulting his map, Collin tried to explain that as unlikely as it seemed, there was nothing here but the dock, and that Galearon appeared to be at least a full day's, if not two, ride to the south. As they maneuvered into the harbor though Collin forgot all about maps, ships, and nearly everything else as he laid eyes upon the two figures standing upon the dock.
They were shorter than even Collin but were beautifully built with long bones and huge expressive eyes. Their arrow straight hair was broken by long elegant ears that came to points. It was the first time Collin had seen an elf outside of a woodcut in a book.
Each stood motionless, looking the ship up and down, pausing to rest upon each person aboard. Frederick gave the mooring orders but as the crew tossed the lines, the elves did not move and the ropes splashed into the water. Puzzled, they pulled them back aboard and dropped anchor, attempting to dock without aid. Eventually they managed to secure themselves and lower the gangplank, when they did, they found the elves standing to either side of it.
By that time Collin had exhausted the last of his patience and his excitement overcame him. He raced down the gangplank to speak with the elves.
*Khuuld's player actually managed to roll 007 on his first try to stabilize. He was at something like -8 or -9 so it was important. I think I said something Eric's Grandmother wouldn't have approved of at the luck, but I merely attributed it to the voice in Khuuld's head. }
Last edited:
Velenne
Explorer
Poor poor Fredrick. 
He tries so hard and does such a good job of keeping track of Khuuld but the big bastard just hates the idea and tries to slip away at every opportunity. It also doesn't help that he runs faster than the cleric.
And everytime he slips, Khuuld falls just a little further and Fredrick's guilt grows like a mountain on his shoulders.
He tries so hard and does such a good job of keeping track of Khuuld but the big bastard just hates the idea and tries to slip away at every opportunity. It also doesn't help that he runs faster than the cleric.And everytime he slips, Khuuld falls just a little further and Fredrick's guilt grows like a mountain on his shoulders.
Jeremy
Explorer
The elves stood nearly motionless with huge eyes that at the moment held no emotion as they regarded Collin. In his excitement Collin's first statement did not reflect his intelligence, but then, his youth combined with his excited curiosity was only exacerbated by the fact that he was the first person he knew of from Ardonia who had met a real elf.
So he rather joyously asked them, "Are you elves?"
The elves' flat expressions changed not a whit.
"Oh, yes, well, silly question I suppose. Yes, um, let's see. Is that," with a look indicating the rustic wooden lodge at the end of the dock, "Your home?"
Still silent, and with no emotion one way or the other on their faces, one of the elves slowly rotated his head fist to the left a few degrees, then to the right.
"No, I suppose not. Well, this is quite exciting, to actually be in the prescense of elves. I've read all about you. Well, er, yes, not exactly as talkative as I had expected but I guess that can be, yes that can be explained. Elves! I'm actually talking with elves! Well, speaking to rather really, you're not really doing much talking. But then, I suppose, yes there must be a reason for that too, and I shall discover it. Hmmm, but first, hmmm--Elves!--let's see. Galearon, yes? This of course isn't it. It's south correct?"
Collin's unbridled enthusiasm is utterly unaffected by the still expressionless and equally slow inclination of the other elf's head.
"Hah! Wonderful. I knew that. The map is wonderful.." Collin visibly considers pulling the map out to either study it, show his prize to the elves, or maybe just caress it wonderously and replace it, but after a moment he merely smiles bright again and continues on. "Well, I suppose we shall be off to the south then. We are going to visit your capital. I, um, well that is I don't know if you actually have fun, but well hmmm, I guess this is good day!" And after an entirely one-sided conversation that probably took less than 60 seconds total, Collin walked up the ramp to relay his findings with one more excited murmur to himself.
"Elves!"
Back aboard the ship Frederick had was slowly coming to the decision that compliant or not, the crew might not be trustworthy enough to be left alone on a ship they once piloted. The fact that it had taken them twenty-one sailors before and Collin's magic and Frederick's intelligence just now to operate the ship escaped him in all the details of the moral dilemma.
Khuuld strode down the gangplank, not a timid bone in his body but was met with the same bland looks, and shrugging to himself he packed down and buckled on his gear. Andrew and Tylette also came down; Andrew was grateful to finally be back on the ground even when he heard that yet more walking awaited them. As Collin came down the gangplank again with the rest of his gear now lashed securely into place, he called back after Frederick. But Frederick announced that he would be staying to look after the ship.
With a nod, Collin set to summoning forth mounts for the party.
The ride through the forest was peaceful counterpoint to the bare skeletal trees they had ridden through near the ruins north of Ardonia. The only damper on the soothing atmosphere was the strange feeling of being watched. Animals that seemed to not know they should avoid man watched them curiously. Irritated, both at the itch of the hairs on the back of his neck and that hunting should prove so little challenge here, Khuuld dismounted, unshouldered his long bow, and began stringing it at the sight of a great stag.
A dignified voice began at a slow pace, each word carefully pronounced, "Please do not do that." The silence between his sentences seemed to stretch. "If you wish food, it can be provided for you." The pace of his speech had a ponderous quality to it, as if each word were cautiously chosen, though there was no reflection of that emotion in either the elf's face, nor his body language.
Khuuld's reply was equally bland, perhaps in mockery of the elf's fine pronunciation bereft of emotion, perhaps just in strained patience and an honest effort to be civil, "I'm no bloody green ear. I knows what I'm doin'. I'm a flippin' furrier. Yeh just mind yer own business an' lets me see teh mine."
Andrew nodded and looked to Khuuld, "It is their farm, their rules."
Collin added, "It might be adviseable to just carry on, Khuuld."
More irritated now than before, Khuuld finished stringing his bow and fingered the arrows at his hip questioningly. With an aggravated grunt he deliberately began to draw an arrow out when the elf lifted a single finger unnoticed.
Three loud hisses ended abruptly in the earthy thunk of three arrows imbedding themself around Khuuld. Each from a different direction, each at a down angle.
So he rather joyously asked them, "Are you elves?"
The elves' flat expressions changed not a whit.
"Oh, yes, well, silly question I suppose. Yes, um, let's see. Is that," with a look indicating the rustic wooden lodge at the end of the dock, "Your home?"
Still silent, and with no emotion one way or the other on their faces, one of the elves slowly rotated his head fist to the left a few degrees, then to the right.
"No, I suppose not. Well, this is quite exciting, to actually be in the prescense of elves. I've read all about you. Well, er, yes, not exactly as talkative as I had expected but I guess that can be, yes that can be explained. Elves! I'm actually talking with elves! Well, speaking to rather really, you're not really doing much talking. But then, I suppose, yes there must be a reason for that too, and I shall discover it. Hmmm, but first, hmmm--Elves!--let's see. Galearon, yes? This of course isn't it. It's south correct?"
Collin's unbridled enthusiasm is utterly unaffected by the still expressionless and equally slow inclination of the other elf's head.
"Hah! Wonderful. I knew that. The map is wonderful.." Collin visibly considers pulling the map out to either study it, show his prize to the elves, or maybe just caress it wonderously and replace it, but after a moment he merely smiles bright again and continues on. "Well, I suppose we shall be off to the south then. We are going to visit your capital. I, um, well that is I don't know if you actually have fun, but well hmmm, I guess this is good day!" And after an entirely one-sided conversation that probably took less than 60 seconds total, Collin walked up the ramp to relay his findings with one more excited murmur to himself.
"Elves!"
Back aboard the ship Frederick had was slowly coming to the decision that compliant or not, the crew might not be trustworthy enough to be left alone on a ship they once piloted. The fact that it had taken them twenty-one sailors before and Collin's magic and Frederick's intelligence just now to operate the ship escaped him in all the details of the moral dilemma.
Khuuld strode down the gangplank, not a timid bone in his body but was met with the same bland looks, and shrugging to himself he packed down and buckled on his gear. Andrew and Tylette also came down; Andrew was grateful to finally be back on the ground even when he heard that yet more walking awaited them. As Collin came down the gangplank again with the rest of his gear now lashed securely into place, he called back after Frederick. But Frederick announced that he would be staying to look after the ship.
With a nod, Collin set to summoning forth mounts for the party.
The ride through the forest was peaceful counterpoint to the bare skeletal trees they had ridden through near the ruins north of Ardonia. The only damper on the soothing atmosphere was the strange feeling of being watched. Animals that seemed to not know they should avoid man watched them curiously. Irritated, both at the itch of the hairs on the back of his neck and that hunting should prove so little challenge here, Khuuld dismounted, unshouldered his long bow, and began stringing it at the sight of a great stag.
A dignified voice began at a slow pace, each word carefully pronounced, "Please do not do that." The silence between his sentences seemed to stretch. "If you wish food, it can be provided for you." The pace of his speech had a ponderous quality to it, as if each word were cautiously chosen, though there was no reflection of that emotion in either the elf's face, nor his body language.
Khuuld's reply was equally bland, perhaps in mockery of the elf's fine pronunciation bereft of emotion, perhaps just in strained patience and an honest effort to be civil, "I'm no bloody green ear. I knows what I'm doin'. I'm a flippin' furrier. Yeh just mind yer own business an' lets me see teh mine."
Andrew nodded and looked to Khuuld, "It is their farm, their rules."
Collin added, "It might be adviseable to just carry on, Khuuld."
More irritated now than before, Khuuld finished stringing his bow and fingered the arrows at his hip questioningly. With an aggravated grunt he deliberately began to draw an arrow out when the elf lifted a single finger unnoticed.
Three loud hisses ended abruptly in the earthy thunk of three arrows imbedding themself around Khuuld. Each from a different direction, each at a down angle.
Jeremy
Explorer
"Yes, um, Khuuld I really think--" But before Collin had even begun, Khuuld had already begun replacing the arrow in his quiver, muttering to himself. After a moments thought he bent down and picked up the decorated shafts sticking out of the ground and looked a challenge at the seemingly endless trees. Daring the hidden elves with his eyes, he placed the three arrows into his own quiver and mounted.
Tylette turned with a soothing smile to offer assurances to the elf only to find him gone. Collin only bubbled on excitedly about all the fascinating things they were seeing.
Meanwhile, back at the ship, Frederick was checking the log against the provisioning records he and Collin had scratched out. They had been at sea much longer than expected. Heading down to check things out personally, he estimated there was about enough food for another week if it was just himself and the crew eating. This was not long enough in his opinion.
Muttering something more likely to be self-deprecating than anything else, he called the crew before him and announced they were heading into town as well for supplies.
The rest of the group had set up camp with a guard posted in the usual fashion, sleeping in shifts, however pointless it seemed to Tylette and Collin (who snuck back into his tent soon after his shift started).
The next morning would find them breaking through the tree cover to what could only be Galearon. The forest had been cleared for about a mile in every direction around the elven capital giving at first, a magnificent setting for the town. The unusual thing was that the resulting grassland was uniformly cropped down to barely two inches in height. A shadow could not approach Galearon unseen.
At this distance the town appeared to be a grouping of trees, with low houses interspersed around a tall walled structure. From the eight towers rising equidistant from each other, it could be assumed the compound was most likely shaped like an octagon, though it was difficult to be sure from their vantage. Another unusal detail was that only the three northernmost towers appeared to be complete. All of the others were complete to a point at which they ended in a great deal of wooden skeletal structure and scaffolding.
They rode the last mile each keeping their own counsel. Some expected bigger, some figured it at about twice the size of Jigond and were awestruck, others worried over things they had observed, while the rest rode on with lighter thoughts. All of them were surprised when they actually entered Galearon.
The elven capitol appeared for the most part empty. Here and there they could see it being maintained by unusual magic. Two wooden buckets floated serenely beside a floating tunic that glided along. By the number of identical tunics floating about, the colors were livery of some sort. Here and there an elf went about their business with unhurried grace, but all things considered, there was very little commotion.
Collin's eyes lit up at the blatant use of magic while the rest took in the quaint buildings amidst the trees and the more unusual dwellings that were trees. There were no apparent pathways, cobblestone avenues, or even worn paths; just beautifully maintained grassy spaces between and around trees and homes. Straight lines were few and far between, spaces and buildings alike were curved more often than not. Addressing floating tunics produced no effect, but inquiring of an elf at least produced an inclination of the head towards a shaped ivy-covered wooden structure with at least two stories next to apparently a healthy spring that fed a brook that wandered around trees and between homes.
The doors to the building glided silently open for them as they approached apparently unaided to judge by the empty common room that greeted them. Wooden tables that appeared perhaps to still live looked so natural one might believe they grew that way stood lined by comfortable looking equally natural chairs. No patrons or even an inkeep were apparent, though the place was obviously well maintained.
Seating themselves and relaxing Khuuld called out for some service. When an elf materialized next to him he nearly overbalanced his chair.
"I love this place! I am most certainly going to come back here to live as soon as we fix you Khuuld. Yes. Most definately... Elves!"
A slight itch on the back of his neck later, Khuuld irritably asked what he had to do to get some food. His temper came even closer to flaring when his response was the elf disappearing again. But scant moments later honey-brushed grilled quail with red onion and pepper cress salad, capon and smoked oxtail consomme en croute served on leeks, foie grass, and black truffle, smoked sturgeon on mache lettuce with whole grain mustard dressing, with a main entree of crisped magret duck breast in a green garlic sauce with lavender, concord grapes, white asparagus, and a boulangere potato were all brought on fine silver and porcelain and set before people according to taste with remarkable accuracy.
Collin just pointed then folded his arms with a huge grin as if to say, "You see? Perfect."
Tylette turned with a soothing smile to offer assurances to the elf only to find him gone. Collin only bubbled on excitedly about all the fascinating things they were seeing.
Meanwhile, back at the ship, Frederick was checking the log against the provisioning records he and Collin had scratched out. They had been at sea much longer than expected. Heading down to check things out personally, he estimated there was about enough food for another week if it was just himself and the crew eating. This was not long enough in his opinion.
Muttering something more likely to be self-deprecating than anything else, he called the crew before him and announced they were heading into town as well for supplies.
The rest of the group had set up camp with a guard posted in the usual fashion, sleeping in shifts, however pointless it seemed to Tylette and Collin (who snuck back into his tent soon after his shift started).
The next morning would find them breaking through the tree cover to what could only be Galearon. The forest had been cleared for about a mile in every direction around the elven capital giving at first, a magnificent setting for the town. The unusual thing was that the resulting grassland was uniformly cropped down to barely two inches in height. A shadow could not approach Galearon unseen.
At this distance the town appeared to be a grouping of trees, with low houses interspersed around a tall walled structure. From the eight towers rising equidistant from each other, it could be assumed the compound was most likely shaped like an octagon, though it was difficult to be sure from their vantage. Another unusal detail was that only the three northernmost towers appeared to be complete. All of the others were complete to a point at which they ended in a great deal of wooden skeletal structure and scaffolding.
They rode the last mile each keeping their own counsel. Some expected bigger, some figured it at about twice the size of Jigond and were awestruck, others worried over things they had observed, while the rest rode on with lighter thoughts. All of them were surprised when they actually entered Galearon.
The elven capitol appeared for the most part empty. Here and there they could see it being maintained by unusual magic. Two wooden buckets floated serenely beside a floating tunic that glided along. By the number of identical tunics floating about, the colors were livery of some sort. Here and there an elf went about their business with unhurried grace, but all things considered, there was very little commotion.
Collin's eyes lit up at the blatant use of magic while the rest took in the quaint buildings amidst the trees and the more unusual dwellings that were trees. There were no apparent pathways, cobblestone avenues, or even worn paths; just beautifully maintained grassy spaces between and around trees and homes. Straight lines were few and far between, spaces and buildings alike were curved more often than not. Addressing floating tunics produced no effect, but inquiring of an elf at least produced an inclination of the head towards a shaped ivy-covered wooden structure with at least two stories next to apparently a healthy spring that fed a brook that wandered around trees and between homes.
The doors to the building glided silently open for them as they approached apparently unaided to judge by the empty common room that greeted them. Wooden tables that appeared perhaps to still live looked so natural one might believe they grew that way stood lined by comfortable looking equally natural chairs. No patrons or even an inkeep were apparent, though the place was obviously well maintained.
Seating themselves and relaxing Khuuld called out for some service. When an elf materialized next to him he nearly overbalanced his chair.
"I love this place! I am most certainly going to come back here to live as soon as we fix you Khuuld. Yes. Most definately... Elves!"
A slight itch on the back of his neck later, Khuuld irritably asked what he had to do to get some food. His temper came even closer to flaring when his response was the elf disappearing again. But scant moments later honey-brushed grilled quail with red onion and pepper cress salad, capon and smoked oxtail consomme en croute served on leeks, foie grass, and black truffle, smoked sturgeon on mache lettuce with whole grain mustard dressing, with a main entree of crisped magret duck breast in a green garlic sauce with lavender, concord grapes, white asparagus, and a boulangere potato were all brought on fine silver and porcelain and set before people according to taste with remarkable accuracy.
Collin just pointed then folded his arms with a huge grin as if to say, "You see? Perfect."
Last edited:
Similar Threads
