The Four Lands - Divine Avengers

[Lou]

Carvin Wray - Battle Sorcerer of Pelor

OOC: My first post disappeared into the void....

Carvyn wakes the next morning and runs through his inital morning ritual of meditating and preparing his mind for his spells for the day. The years of farming, practice with the long sword, and of sorcerery have burned this initial routine into his mind.

As Carvyn finally relaxes and starts his day with a clear mind, he relives the events of the day before. Was it all a dream, or did it really happen? Carven studies the note to meet at the "Drunken Lord." I wonder who wrote this?

Carvyn recalls that with the death of the prelate, there will be days of mourning? Is it one week, two? He can't recall. After that, a mass and then the secret meetings to chose a new prelate.

Seeing the "new" long sword next to his "old" sword, Carvyn draws the new long sword and caresses the rippled blue-white steel. The topazes gleem as he runs his finger over them. Sashin, is it? What special powers do you have? Will you tell me, or will I have to wait until the time is right to use your special powers? Carvyn runs through his usual long sword workout, feeling Sashin slice through the air.

With the days of mourning, no one will look for him for a while. They may even think he was killed and taken yesterday. Carvyn smiles. He dresses plainly and completely, for adventuring, and moves out to the "Drunken Lord," hoping to see his new friends, Redford, Harstard, and the others. What of the acolyte? What will he do now? How will he be treated after yesterday?

Carvyn feels ready for anything. The spirit never did identify itself as Lord Arthur, but with St. Pelor's help, the identity of the spirit will not matter as the evil is driven out by the faithful.

OOC: Know (Ecc. Law) 9

 

[Neurotic]

Redford Thornrose

Snapping out of the nigtmare Redford checks his room for anything out of the ordinary.

What the heck?! Phew. Just a nightmare. That would be er...[/COLOR] Redford thoughts trail off as he sights short blade lying in the bed.

Hm, maybe not everything was a dream.

Nightblade, awake. Can you tell me how did you come to be here? Did the attack on the cathedral really happen? Is prelate alright?

Also, now that we are here in real world, what can you do? Except for impaling opponents I mean.

A note? Well, well, this is getting more interesting every moment. I wonder if those guys are real. Did we all have same dream and introduced ourselves in dreams or is it just my dream after that beating I got from the assassin? Assuming there was an assasin that is...

Argh, this will take time to sort out. hopefuly whoever summoned us to Drunken Lord will know what is happening.


in addition to his morning routine practicing casting in armor and several forms with his guissarme he practices for a short while with nightblade to gain some sense of balance and skill with it.

Redford prepares for the worst and is dressed in full battle regalia heading for the meeting.

 

[Nightbreeze]

Harstard wakes up with a sour mood. His gaze shifts from the blankets to the window and then to the armor. He groans, sits on the edge of his bed and watches the armor, positioned on a high shelf for at least half an hour without moving and saying anything.

Then he slowly unwraps a pack, puts away the notes about trollish grammar (he is going to write a book on it sooner or later), and finally finds what is he looking for: a mixture of ogre's powdered horn, silver leafs from Trieliera, a northern rare tree, and amber. The resulting cream is hard, silver-colored, and when applied to the naked human skin and treated with oil, extremely resistant to water, blood and alcholol: as a matter of fact, the only way to take it away is the application of Bittergreen Cheren, another tree from the north. Taking the resulting admixture, without using any mirror, he just designs two simple, curled, horizontal lines just under his left eye, stretching from the nose to the ear. For a warrior from his little and strange order, this means that his "tejore", campaign/meaning, has just began. Over time, when he feels that it is entering new phases, and when he understands it more clearly, he will add other symbols. Then he stares again at his armor, and with a half smile mutters Destiny, huh?

He wears his full battle equipment, wears Worlof and heads down the stairs. After greeting his bad-mannered monstrous sized horse, who has managed to scare the hell out of all servants in just two days, he heads for the Drunken lord.

 

[Dracomeander]

Gregory wakes feeling slightly puzzled as to why he doesn't remember going to sleep. He looks around his room noting the open tomes and scrolls with pens marking their places laid out on whatever surface is available. Then he spots the staff Taylor and the folded parchment with his name on it.

Taylor, greetings again. What happened? How did I get back to my room?

Gregory rises and goes over to the only uncluttered area of the room. There he performs his morning devotions before the small window facing the rising sun.

After devotions, he rises, reads the note, and begins a minor straightening of his work as he packs sheafs of notes and his healer's bag. Then he finishes donning what he considers adventuring gear, takes up Taylor, and heads out to the Drunken Lord.

OOC: What is our condition when we wake? If we still have battle damage from the events of the ceremony, Gregory will be down a couple of spells to heal himself. He had Constitution damage as well as normal battle damage.

My computer is giving me fits with just this site. More than half the time it refuses to connect saying the site is taking too long to respond. I will try to keep up, but I can't guarantee I will see posts everyday anymore.

 

[Rhun]

Bestor wakes, feeling strangely calm and focused. He couldn't remember how he got back to his room, but such was the norm after a hard night of drinking. Did his companions and he go to a tavern last night after their experience at the Cathedral? No, if he had imbibed that much alcohol, he wouldn't be feeling nearly as well as he did now. His head, at least, would be pounding.

Rising, the warrior goes about his morning tasks, spending an hour or more stretching, exercising and meditating. Then, he dresses in his new armor Mirandia, gathers his weapons and gear, and leaves to find answers at the Drunken Lord.

 

[J. Alexander]

The Drunken Lord

Before they leave their respective rooms, the party does find that their wounds from the dream or nightmare are indeed real. The Drunken Lord is easily found, it is a large prosperous in that serves a solid middleclass client base. The inn itself rises some 5 stories into the sky and is perhaps some 150 feet long by 50 feet wide with a similar sized stabel and courtyard in the back. At this hour there are very few clients around the courtyard or close to the inn. The market a block away though is extremly busy with morning shopping. The items are quite and do not respond to the direct questions of the party.

 

[Nightbreeze]

Harstard, heavily clad and armore walks towards the inn and ignores all the curious glances at him. He enters, looks for a nice and solid chair and sits, ordering beer.

 

[Neurotic]

Redford Thornrose

Entering the tavern Redford easily spots huge warrior and approaches.

Hello again, Master Hastard. I hope you have story to tell as interesting as mine is, otherwise you might think me crazy. May I join you?

 

[Rhun]

Bestor walks proudly into the Drunken Lord, head held tall, and looking quite resplendent in his new pale yellow armor. He looks calmly around the place, and spotting two of his companions moves to join them. He nods greeting as he approaches. "Harstard. Redford."

 

[Nightbreeze]

Harstard nods. Twice in the direction of Redford and once in the direction of Bestor.