TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Damn fine update, good thing I fed Funeris tonight. Course that Kitty Cat he sleeps with will probably hate the fact it was chili later on tonight.
Yeti
Yeti
-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Blade of Phoee (Updated 12/08/08)
- Thread starter Funeris
- Start date
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Good stuff, as ever, Funeris. Keep 'em coming.
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 4: From Here to There ([i]Part IV[/i])
Well...if Spidey says he's going to update today...then so am I
(especially since my son has finally laid down for a nap)
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“It’s strange you know,” Zayda whispered over the thudding rain. Aramil was caught off guard and tripped. His arms shot forward, breaking the fall but covering his flesh and armor with a thick layer of muck. His face reddening, Aramil grimaced and spun, drawing a dagger. He remained half crouched, a predator ready to attack if given any sign of weakness but Zayda just shook her covered head. “You won’t need that half-blood. I have no intention of attacking you.”
“You shouldn’t have followed,” the rogue grunted; very disturbed by the racial slur. They stood in silence and unmoving for a few moments before the half-elf slid the dagger away. “Why’d you follow?”
“Curiosity,” the elven ranger admitted. While Aramil could not plainly see her face beneath the cowl, he could hear the smile behind the words. “And to ask you a few questions,” Zayda added.
“Go on then, get it over with,” he barked. He turned away, focusing on the individual drops of rain and flakes of light snow; watching as they hit each leave, rolling across their thin veins and plummeted to the devouring earth.
“Can these humans,” the ranger paused, brushing her hood away with a light push, “be trusted.” Aramil glared at her, his face registering true shock at the query. He noted her perfectly straight hair, draped like a black curtain teasingly hiding the supple flesh of her neck. Her face was perfect, a pale canvas upon which a masterwork painter had crafted a delicate nose and to either side perfect almond-shaped eyes of the finest jade hue. Disconcertion only swept over Aramil from the cold, hard gaze emitting from the jade eyes. Her thin lips moved again, revealing pristine teeth and the rogue found himself struggling to make out the words. “Do you trust them?”
“With my life,” he grunted, turning his back on the beauty again. “I trust them with my life.”
Zayda grunted. “Then why did you flash that look at them as you trotted off? Your mannerisms give away much, thief.” Aramil began to interject, but the ranger continued with her soothing, melodic voice. “No, something here is not right. You do not trust them with your life, just as I would not. Are you their prisoner? That would make more sense but then why would they allow you to stalk off alone?”
“I am not their prisoner!” he blurted. But the memory of his release drifted to the forefront of his mind, betraying his own assertion. “I am…but I am not.”
“What word game are you playing thief? Either you are their prisoner or you are not.”
“I am both. And you would not understand. It is too long a story for someone with such short tolerance for other races.” He smirked and moved to leave but she hurled another question his way.
“Were you a child of rape or love?” The rogue spun, staring into those heartless orbs. His lips curled angrily.
“My mother and father loved each other,” he claimed stonily.
“Sure they did. What was her name?” Aramil’s eyes widened in shock at the personal affront.
“I…I don’t,” he stammered.
“You don’t know. I suppose the man that claimed he was your father told you that he loved her. But he didn’t tell you her name.”
“There…there was no time…”
“Of course not. And you just believed his lies. They are humans. Humans lie. They are no better than the foulest of beasts, worse than orcs and even trolls.” Zayda slammed her mouth shut, entrapping the bitter rage that festered in her heart. “If you were wise,” she continued in a strained, cool voice, “If you were wise you would not trust them. I do not. And for that matter, I do not even trust you.”
“I do trust them!” he screamed, pivoting toward the ranger. His mouth opened for she had vanished.
Well...if Spidey says he's going to update today...then so am I
(especially since my son has finally laid down for a nap)-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“It’s strange you know,” Zayda whispered over the thudding rain. Aramil was caught off guard and tripped. His arms shot forward, breaking the fall but covering his flesh and armor with a thick layer of muck. His face reddening, Aramil grimaced and spun, drawing a dagger. He remained half crouched, a predator ready to attack if given any sign of weakness but Zayda just shook her covered head. “You won’t need that half-blood. I have no intention of attacking you.”
“You shouldn’t have followed,” the rogue grunted; very disturbed by the racial slur. They stood in silence and unmoving for a few moments before the half-elf slid the dagger away. “Why’d you follow?”
“Curiosity,” the elven ranger admitted. While Aramil could not plainly see her face beneath the cowl, he could hear the smile behind the words. “And to ask you a few questions,” Zayda added.
“Go on then, get it over with,” he barked. He turned away, focusing on the individual drops of rain and flakes of light snow; watching as they hit each leave, rolling across their thin veins and plummeted to the devouring earth.
“Can these humans,” the ranger paused, brushing her hood away with a light push, “be trusted.” Aramil glared at her, his face registering true shock at the query. He noted her perfectly straight hair, draped like a black curtain teasingly hiding the supple flesh of her neck. Her face was perfect, a pale canvas upon which a masterwork painter had crafted a delicate nose and to either side perfect almond-shaped eyes of the finest jade hue. Disconcertion only swept over Aramil from the cold, hard gaze emitting from the jade eyes. Her thin lips moved again, revealing pristine teeth and the rogue found himself struggling to make out the words. “Do you trust them?”
“With my life,” he grunted, turning his back on the beauty again. “I trust them with my life.”
Zayda grunted. “Then why did you flash that look at them as you trotted off? Your mannerisms give away much, thief.” Aramil began to interject, but the ranger continued with her soothing, melodic voice. “No, something here is not right. You do not trust them with your life, just as I would not. Are you their prisoner? That would make more sense but then why would they allow you to stalk off alone?”
“I am not their prisoner!” he blurted. But the memory of his release drifted to the forefront of his mind, betraying his own assertion. “I am…but I am not.”
“What word game are you playing thief? Either you are their prisoner or you are not.”
“I am both. And you would not understand. It is too long a story for someone with such short tolerance for other races.” He smirked and moved to leave but she hurled another question his way.
“Were you a child of rape or love?” The rogue spun, staring into those heartless orbs. His lips curled angrily.
“My mother and father loved each other,” he claimed stonily.
“Sure they did. What was her name?” Aramil’s eyes widened in shock at the personal affront.
“I…I don’t,” he stammered.
“You don’t know. I suppose the man that claimed he was your father told you that he loved her. But he didn’t tell you her name.”
“There…there was no time…”
“Of course not. And you just believed his lies. They are humans. Humans lie. They are no better than the foulest of beasts, worse than orcs and even trolls.” Zayda slammed her mouth shut, entrapping the bitter rage that festered in her heart. “If you were wise,” she continued in a strained, cool voice, “If you were wise you would not trust them. I do not. And for that matter, I do not even trust you.”
“I do trust them!” he screamed, pivoting toward the ranger. His mouth opened for she had vanished.
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Racist itch.Funeris said:Oh yeah...can anyone guess what the ranger's favored enemy is? It should be pretty obvious
~Fune
No dear elf ranger you shouldn't trust the blood soaked human........
Funeris
First Post
LOL
yeah...well you know racism is just generalization coupled with anger and an ignoble sense of justice for the most part.
Funny though, Clerics that live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, eh? Especially if you come across a "good" follower of Ara'kull. Hmmm...
Of course in my mind...good is relative both to the race and predisposition of a character...so....
~Fune
yeah...well you know racism is just generalization coupled with anger and an ignoble sense of justice for the most part.
Funny though, Clerics that live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, eh? Especially if you come across a "good" follower of Ara'kull. Hmmm...
Of course in my mind...good is relative both to the race and predisposition of a character...so....
~Fune
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
You are mixing up your definitions,Funeris said:
your thinking of persucution (or however you spell it) not racism.
Cassock presucutes the Ara'Kull priesthood.
Funeris
First Post
Brellin, we'll get to more backstory eventually. Cassock/Yeti well knows that I pull backstory into the forefront (I'm a character-oriented type of guy)...its what I'm doing in the current arc. But, I'll explain that happy horsepoo when I get there...it'll receive its own unique disclaimer....and of course, I've still got some Rhynos backstory to get to...and I need to get to an event or two with Morrick and possibly Gwen...oh the list goes on.
But, since my kid has a fever of 103, I'll probably end up with tomorrow off..and may be able to update if he naps
And Yeti, persecution is a by-product of racism Racists persecute. Therefore, by your own definition of Cassock's actions...you're a racist. Although...I dunno...maybe you're more of an extremist (since its a religious view thing)...yeah, I think we'll go with extremist.
~Fune
Not that you're not justified.....
But, since my kid has a fever of 103, I'll probably end up with tomorrow off..and may be able to update if he naps
And Yeti, persecution is a by-product of racism
Racists persecute. Therefore, by your own definition of Cassock's actions...you're a racist. Although...I dunno...maybe you're more of an extremist (since its a religious view thing)...yeah, I think we'll go with extremist.~Fune
Not that you're not justified.....
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