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  #151  
Unread 10th of January, 2003, 19:45
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A powerful rumble followed by an Explosion without sight of flames in any direction shakes the entire town. Guards rush to their stations to find out where or how the explosion happened. Fearing the worst, drunkards mention Orcs. Soon the rumours spread and the entire city is in panic from "legions of Orcs with great war machines".

Many people make made dashes for items for what they think will be the last minutes of their lives, and soon total anarchy has taken hold of the city.
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  #152  
Unread 11th of January, 2003, 03:19
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Tucking the pouch away and running his hand through his hair Nicos quickly considers Shades question.

"I don’t know any of the other Inns as well as the one you’re currently in, that owner and I have a nice arrangement. Still the order of Jupel -The Travel god, maintains some keep hostels a block away from The Inn. It's reputed to be cheep and clean, but more importantly it is private and safe from the more ... unsavoury types. I can’t say out of experience, I've never stayed there."

Taking a long hard look at the woman next to him, Nicos quickly looks away with a smile as she meets his gaze.

"So tell me what are you running from?" Seeing a dangerous look flash in her eyes Nicos quickly backtracks.

"My apologies, that was a personal question and I had no right to ask it. Blazes as far as I know you just have the itch to move on. That's something I know all too well. I've been in one place for too long, my feet are starting to get restless."

Giving her a wry, knowing smile comments. "Though no doubt after a little of wondering I’ll be just as eager to settle down again"
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  #153  
Unread 13th of January, 2003, 03:34
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The foyer of the temple is almost as dark as the streets. Flames from three lone candles are all that illuminate the cold, stone features inside. His eyes are already adjusted to the darkness but most of the room remains cloaked in shadows that move and dance as the candles flicker.

The footsteps of the acolyte quickly fade and Cadrius finds himself slowly pacing about the room, trying to study some of the interior. For the most part it's cold and efficient, just the way some of Heironeous' priests are, just the way He can be. However there are several tapestries adorning the walls. In the dim lighting he can see a man fully covered in armor except for his head. He seems to be wearing a circlet of some sort and is charging into battle on a horse, his sword is raised above his head and he wears some sort of expression on his face. Is it anger? Fear? Triumph? Cadrius isn't sure and likely it doesn't matter, if it's glorious battle then Heironeous will be pleased.

He turns to the next tapestry and finds an altogether different scene. There is a man, he could be the same as the one before, he's tall, with dark hair and eyes, and he kneels before a woman. Even in the low light Cadrius can tell that she is radiant in her beauty. Indeed the artist seemed rather taken with her himself as there is a great attention to detail. But what is occuring here? Is she some sort of Queen? Perhaps, but there doesn't seem to be any court around her. And what is he doing? Paying homage? Declaring his courtly love? Either way it's chivalry and that's the other side to Heironeous. Death, glory, battle, and love, honor, and chivalry. It makes for one very interesting deity and thus his followers always seem to walk the fine line between perfection and insanity. It is not an easy task to keep so many conflicting interests and views in one's head.

His inspection of the painting is interrupted by a someone clearing their throat behind him. Cadrius straightens and turns around to look upon what can only be the Highpriest. It is difficult to tell the age of the man in the near-darkness. However Cadrius suspects that even if it were noon-time at the height of summer he still wouldn't be able to give an accurate estimate. He looks weary and this seems to add years to his frame. Yet the priests of Heironeous all seemed remarkable in the fact that after twenty five or thirty summers it became increasingly difficult to tell how old they really were and this one was clearly no exception.

"Yes?" the Highpriest asks his voice tired but his eyes sharp, "what is it? Young Acolyte Hale disturbed my evening prayers and said that some frightening man was here to confess. So what is it, son? Steal some sheep? Take the innocence of some farmer's daughter?"

Cadrius openly winces at the questions.

"Come on, out with it, we've had a busy evening and I don't have time to waste on an idiot," he seems irritable but Cadrius cannot guess what could have already happened.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and speaks slowly and simply. "I am here to confess the murder of the three men that were found yesterday. It is a somewhat complicated situation but it was self-defense and I am here to accept what punishment might be in store for me."

The Highpriest remains silent for a moment and studies Cadrius, taking his measure. "We already have a suspect, son, and one without any decent alibi. I'd advise you go home and have a pint or two and forget any nonesense of confessing for a crime you didn't commit."

Cadrius looks at him a moment longer, and the shades return pleading with him to return to the inn, to get drunk, and to maybe kill again. They relish death, particularily if it is done face to face so that they might look in the victim's eyes as they die.

"Subject me to the Tests," he says looking the man in his gray eyes. He unfastens the dagger from his belt and hands it to the man hilt-first. "I think you'll find this will fit as the murder weapon."

The Highpriest's eyes flash dangerously at the mention of the ritual of learning the truth of a crime. "How do you know of the Test?"

"Does it matter?" he asks, his voice now full of weariness, "I killed three men, I am here to confess, I suggest you at least take me into custody Highpriest..."

"Kulper."

"Kulper, good. I am Cadrius. I would at least know my jailor's name."

The man nods simply and leads him further into the temple, and down the stairs, into the dungeon and into the darkness.
  #154  
Unread 14th of January, 2003, 07:59
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Her stomach churns unpleasantly as Nicos chatters about different accomodations; she glares at him unconciously when he asks about her reasons for leaving. What would he think if he knew? A dead dwarf, a live human and more regrets than seemed prudent.

Her teeth tingle a little and then there is a concussion that seems to rock the entire world; the horizon spins crazily for a moment and she clenches her vibrating teeth, her empty stomach threatening to heave.

"What the hell was that?"

Chaos erupts around them and she appraises Nicos with grim satisfaction: at least the bard was stout enough to keep his head. She ducks into an alley and puts her back to the wall, eying the unruly mobs in the street coldly.

"We'd best get back to the inn; things will likely get uglier here before they get better."
  #155  
Unread 14th of January, 2003, 20:44
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Following closely on Shade's heels, Nicos also turns to view the swarming mob out in the streets.

"I don’t know what that was, but your right, we need to back to the Inn. If things keep going like they are out there, it wont be long until the people start looting."

Glancing up and down the alleyway, the bard motions with his head towards the general direction of the Inn.

"Come-on, we can't risk getting caught in that thing, especial in the town guard decides to put a stop to it. I think I can get us there through some back streets ... maybe"

Turning and jogging away from the through fair they had been in when the earthquake occurred, Nicos quickly and surely leads Shade through a practical Maze off backstreets, alley ways, occasionally taking a short cut over a small fence.

The only moment of danger came, when they were taking a short cut through what looked to be someone's yard, and a man wielding a meat cleaver, and screaming incompressible attacked them, who Nicos quickly put down with en elbow to the neck. After checking that the man was still alive, that bard winked at Shade.

"Two attacks in one day, I didn't know the people here hated me so much."

Without waiting for a reply he was off again, only stopping when they reached a trash filled Dead-end alley. Gasping for breath after the run, and struggling to shove an empty crate aside, with one hand, Nicos explains.

"We ... need to get ... across the street ... and I don’t want ... to chance it. So we use this little ... shortcut. If the ... owners knew ... that I knew about ... this passage ... they would gladly ... slit my thought"
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  #156  
Unread 15th of January, 2003, 06:17
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Now restored to his normal state, Blarth is in his room at the inn when the entire room seems to be rocked by the hand of Gruumsh himself. Trak's armor, which Blarth had so carefully polished and laid out the night before is nocked from its perch on the trunk at the foot of the bed and falls to the floor with a loud rattle. Blarth himself bites his tounge in the shaking as he is knocked off his bed. After the shaking has died down Blarth rushes to the common room of the in to see what happened and finds the scene in chaos. Mugs of ale, bottles of wine, and bowls of stew have been spilled all over the place. One serving wench lies near the bar having fainted in a swoon. The innkeeper lies in the firepit with a large gash on his forhead. Blarth rushes over to him and, after pulling him out of the hearth, uses the man's apron to clumsily bind his head wound. After checking on the other patrons and the fainted serving wench Blarth then moves to the door to try and determine the cause of the disturbance.

Out in the street everything is in chaos. Spooked animals bolt down the street in every direction. People are running about, some after the animals, some with what look to be their most prized possesions, some with whatever weapon they could lay their hands on, and some with goods that probably didn't belong to them before the chaos began. Several times Blarth attempts to stop someone to ask what is happening but each time his voice is drowned out by the crowd and no one hears his inquiry.

Frustrated, Blarth turns back to the inn and goes back inside. There he sees two men behind the bar taking bottles and obviously searching for something. There are two short swords on the bar and the two concious serving wenches and the remainder of the early dinner crowd are gathered by the firepit near the prone form of the innkeeper.

"What are you doing?" Blarth demands of the two men behind the bar. They both imediately grab their swords and turn on Blarth. "Just shutup and join the rest in the corner and there won't be any trouble," The larger of the two says.

"Trouble? You're the ones likely to get into trouble if you don't stop what you are doing and leave now."

Hopping over the bar the larger man barks over his shoulder, "Tully, find the coin box and get out the back door. I'll take care of this meddler and follow you." Turning his attention back to Blarth he continues, "You should have done as I said. Now you will pay with your life."

As the man approaches menacingly Blarth looks around for something to defend himself with and spies an upturned table near the door. Stepping over to it he kicks off one of the legs and bends down to pick it up. As he does so the large man lunges at Blarth with his sword. However, the blade never strikes as it is deflected of an invisible barrier over Blarth's back.

Standing again Blarth holds the table leg like a club and prepares to defend himself. The man, shocked by his miss takes a downward hack at Blarth. This time the blade strikes true and cuts into Blarths left arm just above the elbow. Wrenching away Blarth grits his teeth in pain and swings his makeshift club at the man's head. Swinging wide though he is only able to clip the man's shoulder, doing minimal damage.

Emboldened by Blarth's clumsy swing the man again rushes Blarth and attempts another swing at his arm. This time, however, Blarth side steps the blow and brings his table leg to bear on the back of the man's skull. The man is sent realing into the wall by the door and falls to the ground, quite unconcious.

Tully, seeing his brother go down crys in rage and charges Blarth, hitting him in the side with his sword and creating a deep wound. Shocked by the injury Blarth swings his club half heartedly and misses Tully completely. Tully then attempts to skewer Blarth in the midsection, but Blarth is able to deflect the sword with the table leg and knocks the sword from his hand. Finding himself weaponless Tully turns and runs for the back door. As he goes Blarth reaches for him to restrain him but is unable to catch the retreating form and throws his table leg at Tully in frustration. The leg however only catches the door frame as Tully scoots into the alley and out of sight.
  #157  
Unread 16th of January, 2003, 07:05
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With a quick glance around the alley to make sure they are still alone Shade puts a shoulder against the crate and the two manage to shove it aside. There is a grinding sound as it moves; the crate is attached to a trapdoor that slides aside with the crate leaving a small, square opening going down into the dark. Her eyes gravitate toward Nicos' remaining hand and she notes that he is holding down a hidden catch - doubtless the door wouldn't have opened otherwise. There is no ladder that she can see, though there is an unpleasant odor rising from the tunnel.

Just as she is wondering how the one-armed man is going to manage climbing down, he gives her a quick smile and takes a small hop over the edge. Nicos drops straight through the opening and a split second later she hears the light sound of his landing. Clearly he'd done this before. She makes her own way a little more carefully, hanging from the opening with her arms fully extended for a few seconds until her eyes adjust a little. The floor is only a few feet beneath her and she drops down while Nicos reaches into a crack in the wall of the tunnel. The trapdoor grinds closed above them - they must have raised a counterweight when they had pushed the door open - leaving the two alone in the dark.

Out of habit one hand curls around the hilt of her sword as she strains to hear the other's movements. There is the rustle of cloth and leather, then a clang as of metal lightly struck against stone. The next instant a short length of the passage is illuminated in the glow of a small metal rod Nicos is holding.

"Wonderful devices, these sun rods." the bard says with another smile.

Shade wrinkles her nose. It smelled awful down here, and the light made it plain why: down the center of the narrow passage ran a stream of filth and sewage. Several rats scurry out of the radius of their light source.

"I like the place better in the dark."

Loosening her sword in it's scabbard she lightly hops across the filth so that they are on opposite sides of the channel, leaving Nicos alone the left hand side. The rounded walls would make it difficult for her to use a blade in her right hand. Not that it mattered to her - she fought equally well with either hand but Nicos didn't have that luxury. She raises an eyebrow at the bard and he gestures grandly, indicating that they should move forward.

Dimly, she can hear the din from the streets above indicating that things are not settling down at all. Looting has likely begun and it probably won't be long before the guards finish mobilizing and start cracking heads.

I wonder what we will find at the inn.

Part of her hopes that a certain warrior will have waited for her to return but the more cynical part of her knows that he won't be there. He had his own priorities and they didn't include someone like her. Lost in thought, in the dim light she fails to notice a seemingly loose stone in the uneven floor. There is a sharp click as she steps squarely on it and suddenly a flight of arrows lance across the passage. The bard, slightly ahead of her, dives forward as an arrow grazes his arm.

Shade isn't quite as lucky as the missile fire is aimed at her location; she spins instantly and dives forward, trying to put as much distance between herself and the trigger as possible but two arrows find their mark. One slices her calf -a minor wound- but the other bites deeper into her side. She clenches her teeth and makes no sound as she rolls to her knees, seizing the shaft and snapping it off in one fluid motion. Sweat beads on her forehead as she scans the passage for any sign of attackers but it remains empty. Likely this was simply to trap the unwary and a long string of curses parade through her head; she was not used to being counted among the careless. She takes two deep breaths and clenches her teeth once more as she pushes the arrow the rest of the way through, a low groan escaping her lips as she does so. A moment she hurls the bloody broadhead into the sewage; in another moment she is on her feet looking grim but ready to continue. The entire episode takes place in a matter of seconds.
  #158  
Unread 16th of January, 2003, 08:59
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The market place was full of people: shopping, talking or just milling about.

Maeko looked around her, quietly curious at the mix of familiarity and foreigness of it all; Elyas, near her, was smiling at some private thought.

All of a sudden the nun realized Nicos was nowhere to be seen, the eddies of people had separated them… or so she believed until she noticed four nondescript men converging on her.

“ Elyias, go back to the inn”. They found me

“But I…” started to object the child

“ No ‘but’, go back. I come soon” I will not put other lives at risk.

Mercifully the boy did not discuss, he turned and, with a last mournful glance, went back the way they had come.

The woman breathed deeply, steeling herself for what was to come.
May the mercy of the Perfect Master shelter us, may all living beings reach enlightenment

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had no faces, they had no voices; only clubs and irons and knives. The voice was another’s, he kept asking questions she had already answered and one she could not.

“ How is the bowl activated?”

Darkness…death…?

That voice again: “She doesn’t know, throw this garbage away”.
Hands holding her, carring her, a whiff of cold air, for a moment she was flying, then the fall. She tried to roll with the impact but she was too weak; she laid there, among rotten things in the foul smelling water.

Voices, had they come back? She tried to move, to hide. Too late…
A groan, a sound of lame steps, then a foot connected with her chest and someone fell down on her, cursing. A familiar voice.
A name came to her mind, she tried to call out but it came as a whisper : “ Shade?”
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Last edited by Maeko; 16th of January, 2003 at 09:07.
  #159  
Unread 17th of January, 2003, 01:25
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As he leads the way down passage, Nicos holds the sunrod high above him, to spread as much light as it can. They travel in silence, for the putrid atmosphere didn't lend itself to talking, indeed Nicos tried his best to breath as little as humanly possible, but still failed to escape from the terrible smell.

As he hears a click from behind him, a terrible realisation hits the singer. He didn't know if the passage was trapped or not. Throwing himself forward and down - keeping his mind firmly away from thoughts of what sort of foul things he might land on - A Red-hot pain lances through his arm, as something sharp pieces it. With a gasp, Nicos involuntarily lets go of the sunrod, and as it passes under the murky surface, the tunnel drops into darkness.

Making his way carefully to his feet, and cursing himself for his carelessness in dropping the sunrod, he shuffles over until his outstretched hand brushes the wall. Taking several deep breaths, he stares blindly forward.

"Are you injured?"
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Unread 17th of January, 2003, 03:16
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Darkness descends like a death shroud and after a moment Nicos breaks the silence. Sudden fury rises in the dark and the only response is a most un-ladylike stream of curses. It is followed by the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn.

"Yes, but I will live. This incident may have alerted someone to our presence here. The dark will be our friend for now."

In the blackness Nicos hears two quick steps and then the sound of someone landing lightly in front of him. Her hand reaches back, pressing the hem of her cloak into his own. She switches her blade to her right hand as she speaks.

"Hang onto this so we don't get separated. Move as quietly as you can. I will go slowly since there may be other traps."

Searching the wall and floor as best she can without seeing, Shade guides them along. Thankfully, her companion doesn't seem to mind and on top of that he does a fair job at keeping quiet. They haven't gone very far when Shade's right foot catches on something yielding and she stumbles, not quite supressing a curse at her carelessness.

Too busy checking the wall that I neglected the stream side. Not too surprising people are tossing corpses in here; not dead too long, though.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when the body whispers her name. After the initial shock she recognizes the accent.

"Maeko?"

She reaches down and drags the nun out of the filth, towards the wall. In the dark she can tell little other than that the monk is wounded and alive. She can't decide whether or not to risk light. Whoever had done this to Maeko might still be around and they had been tough enough to best the self-sufficient monk, which meant they were better off avoiding them.

"We've got to get her out of here. How close is the exit?"
  #161  
Unread 17th of January, 2003, 03:56
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Recognition of what Shade had stumbled over slowly sets in, and Nicos blurts out the answer to her question.

"Unless I have lost track it is up ahead about 10ft, a breach in the left wall, up some stairs then through a hidden door."

Helping Shade move the nun, as best as he could with one hand, the bard leads them for a short while, and then stops. Whispering for Shade to stay there for a moment.

A minute or so later, a crack of light appears, as a door opens up, once again throwing the passage into light again.
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Unread 17th of January, 2003, 08:31
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Maeko stifles a moan as the others help her to get up, if not for their combined support she would collapse.

Pain is illusion, fear is illusion she thinks, forcing herself to move, to ignore the grating of broken bones in her left hand.
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  #163  
Unread 17th of January, 2003, 10:43
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]thunk

As the table leg falls to the floor Blarth clutches his side in pain. Moving over to one of the upturned tables, he rights one of the chairs and sits down. As he does so one of the barmaids comes over.

"You're hurt," she states.

"It's not that bad," Blarth replies, "It will heal in less than a week left to its own devices."

"Let me bind the wound."

"No, really, I'm all right. I'm feeling better already," Blarth insists standing and letting his hand drop to his side in an effort to prove it. However, that only makes the bloodstain on his shirt all the more apparent.

"You'll bleed to death if you don't take care of that."

Closing his eyes Blarth seems to be gathering the strength for one last objection. When he opens his eyes however his frame deflates and he sits back down in submission.

The barmaid tentatively reaches out her hand to open Blarth's shirt. Seeing him sit there quietly she grows bolder and makes a rapid job of exposing the wound. What she finds, however, suprises her. Where she expected to find a gaping wound bleeding heavily she finds only a small stab wound which bleeds lightly.

"I told you it was nothing," Blarth comments on her suprise.

"This isn't nothing. You may have gotten lucky but that man could have easily killed you if this had been a little higher."

The barmaid takes of her apron and ripping off several strips she makes a crude compress and binding. "You should be more careful in the future," she says as she turns to head back to the firepit where the innkeeper still lies unconcious.

As he watches the barmaid's retreating form Blarth thinks to himself, She sure is a nice lady. Why can't everyone be as nice as her? Life would sure be easier if they were. I wonder what I can do for her to thank her?
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Unread 18th of January, 2003, 02:37
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Cadrius is enveloped in shadow, the only light in the hall, a small lantern carried by the highpriest, is blocked by the man's form. This doesn't trouble him, he's used to walking in the dark. Forms slide past his vision, he squints a few times but after a while he gives up. They could be tables, altars, even people for all he knew. He might not mind walking in the darkness but it certainly didn't help his vision any.

They move in silence, the only words spoken are by Kulper when he warns Cadrius of stairs or other dangerous obstructions. At least he isn't vengeful like their near-cousins, the followers of St. Cuthbert.

Cadrius has a vague sense of moving downward as they pass through various foyers and meeting halls. His suspicion proves to be true as they descend yet another staircase and into what could only be their prison, their dungeon.

A young acolyte snaps to attention as the Highpriest strides into the room. There is more light in here, a few torches run along the walls and a lantern rests upon a nearby desk. Keys rattle and jingle as the acolyte hurries down the hall to open up a cell.

"I trust we will not have any trouble from you?"

Cadrius looks at the man and shakes his head with a resigned sigh. He chose this path and now he must walk it. He begins moving down the hall toward the open cell. There is a scrape as Kulper turns on his heel and pads his way back up the stairs.

The acolyte watches him nervously, as if Cadrius might lash out and kill him. Another sigh escapes his lips as he strides into his cell. It's a cold, gray room, a small pallet rests on the floor and a chamberpot is in the corner.

He turns back to speak to the acolyte when the ground rolls underneath his feet. He pitches forward and runs into the steel bars of his cell. His head hits one of the bars with a dull thump and pain explodes in his vision. There is a dull rumble in the background but he isn't sure if it's real or merely an affect of ramming his head against the metal bars.

Looking around for the acolyte he spots the man on the floor, he has been thrown from his feet. The young man whips his head back and forth, trying to figure out what had happened. Cadrius can see panic in the young man's eyes.

"Do not just sit there, boy! Go find out what has happened!" He gestures emphatically toward the door at the end of the hallway, one arm sticking out between the bars.

The acolyte looks at him and then down the hall and then back again at Cadrius. He seems uncertain of what to do.

Cadrius rattles the door to his cell slightly, demonstrating that it's firmly locked.

"I am not going anywhere. Go and see and if there's trouble, let me know."

The acolyte disappears, a flurry of white robes. Cadrius goes over to his pallet, lays down, and wonders how much longer he has to live.
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Unread 18th of January, 2003, 05:23
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Nicos and Shade half-carry Maeko up the stairs and out into an alley, emerging into the din of a near riot as people scramble every which way. No doubt the looting has already begun and Shade has a moment to reflect.

Like a bunch of ants whose nest has been disturbed.

Shaking her head as if to clear it, she looks to Nicos and he indicates that the inn is left. Luckily, it's only a few doors down and they push through the heavy wooden door into it's familiar interior. Except that the place looks far from familiar; the entire room is in shambles with tables and stools scattered about, some broken. Food and drink are splattered haphazardly across floor and wall while the paritally open rear door to the inn creaks slightly in the breeze.

Mixed with the debris are some rather large blood-stains and three unconscious forms - two men and a woman. One she recognizes as the innkeep, the woman is obviously one of the serving maids. The other man is rough looking but completely unfamiliar to her. Seated nearby is a winded looking half-orc, bright red blood staining his bandages. Her first thought is that the orc has been looting the place, but his posture and bearing indicate otherwise. After a moment's thought, she places him as the cloaked figure with Paladin from this morning.

Defending the place?

"I'll stay with her. Nicos, see if you can get some water from the kitchen. We need to find out how badly she's wounded."

She lays Maeko gently on the floor and kneels beside her. She checks the monk over with her hands but, having no skill at healing, can't really determine much one way or the other. As she waits for Nicos to return, one hand reaches out and she drags a chair closer, unhooks her sword and lays it on the chair, blade half-drawn and within easy reach.

That ought to give any looters something to think about.
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Unread 18th of January, 2003, 09:41
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Hearing the door open behind him Blarth is at first concerned that more looters have come to try their luck. A quick glance over his shoulder reveals, however, two people carrying an injured third. Sensing no hostility Blarth is content to study the new arivals. They appear to be familar with the inn and there is a small tug of recognition in Blarth's mind as to their identities.

"I'll stay with her. Nicos, see if you can get some water from the kitchen. We need to find out how badly she's wounded."
Nicos? The one armed entertainer from the other night? Blarth glances again at the man as he enters the kitchen. Oh, yeah, he does have one arm. I wonder how I missed that when they entered. Blarth then turns his attention back to the two figures on the floor near the door. That bald man is certianly injured. Hey, wait a minute... Standing, Blarth moves closer to the two figures to get a better look at the injured figure. He's a woman, er... She's a woman. A bald woman? I wonder what happened to her? Catching a glimpse of the other woman's face as she lays her sword out on the chair recognition dawns on Blarth. She's the woman Sir Paladin was talking to earlier. I wonder if I should tell her Sir Paladin is now missing? I wonder if she would even care? She did storm out on him. I wonder if she is still angry?

Seeing the extensive wounds on the bald woman Blarth makes his way behind the bar where he finds a bottle of strong liquor and a rag. Making his way back to the two figures he offers them to the potentially angry woman as she kneels over her companion's form.
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Unread 18th of January, 2003, 10:47
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Making his way into the Kitchen, Nicos is faces with a jumbled mess where an ordered kitchen usually resides. Spying a discarded skin lying on the floor, Nicos makes his way over to it. Twisting open the mouth, he is assaulted by the smell out sour wine. Dropping the pungent drink to the ground, where it splashes out and onto his boots, the bard moves on to check a second skin.

Sniffing the substance inside, and not smelling anything, Nicos tips it back and takes a sip - and is rewarded with he taste of good clean water.

Taking his prize back out the common room, where two figures now hover over the wounded num. In the light of day, she looks like she has had the life beaten out of her. Forcing himself between the two kneeling figures, and shoving the waterbag at shade, mumbling an explanation

"This is a trick I was taught by my mentor"

Holding his hands above the battered body, and swaying them back and forth, Nicos begins to sing is a lilting voice. The tune is simple, and an enjoyable one, but the words slip away. Seen from out of the corner of your eye, the wounds on Maeko’s body seem to gleam silver for a moment.

Rocking back on his knees, the bard looks drained.
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  #168  
Unread 22nd of January, 2003, 07:20
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Shade looks up at the large half-orc as he offers her a cloth and a bottle and raises an eyebrow before accepting them. She takes a swig from the bottle and then presses the cloth against the arrow wound at her side, grimacing slightly as she does so. Her hand is warm and wet with the feel of her own blood. Holding the wadded cloth in place, she tightens her weapons belt over it until there is sufficient pressure to stop the blood flow.

"Thanks. I needed that."

Nicos returns and as she begins cleaning Maeko's wounds the bard begins his song. This is hardly the time. Before she can protest she realizes the magical nature of his words; the monk's wounds glow briefly and when the glow fades Maeko is looking a bit better.

"Nice trick."

The nun stirs and Shade presses a hand to her shoulder.

"Rest for a moment before you try and rise. Nicos has helped your healing along but you took quite a beating. Are you feeling well enough to talk?"
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Unread 22nd of January, 2003, 08:35
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The bard's singing suprises Blarth as it begins, but it has such a soothing tone to it he can't bring himself to object. Seeing the wounds on the bald woman's body glow though Blarth finds his voice and speaks up, "You should have purified the wounds before doing that," he says, "My brother Trak is a healer and he always purifies wounds with alcahol before healing or binding." His tone is not confrontational as he speaks but has the same quality of a child repeating the teachings of his infaliable master.

Having said his peice Blarth lets the bard and women be and begins moving about the common room righting tables and chairs. He also closes the back door and picks up the table leg he had thrown earlier. Examining it he is unsure if any one will be able to fix it and so simply places it, and the table it belongs to, up against the wall. As he is tidying up the two barmaids manage to wake the inkeeper and the other barmaid and, after fetching water for them from the kitchen, begin to clean up the mess created by the spilt food and ale.

When all the tables and chairs are back in their proper position Blarth heads towards the door to check and see if things have died down out in the street. Finding the comotion only moderately abated Blarth closes the door just as the prone figure beside it begins to groan. Unsure of what to do about him, Blarth looks to the others in the room for instructions.
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Unread 22nd of January, 2003, 08:40
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Maeko feels an harmony enveloping her, cradling her. The splinters of bone in her hand shift, oddly without pain, as they mend.
The melody withdraws gently, The nun moves, almost trying to follow it.

"Rest for a moment before you try and rise. Nicos has helped your healing along but you took quite a beating. Are you feeling well enough to talk?"

The voice she heard before, she tries to call the woman who saved her, but her throath is parched and the name comes out as a croack.

A different hand approaches a cup to her lips, Nicos?
Maeko swallows some clean, sweet water, " Thank you" she manages to whisper, closing her eyes in exaustion.
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Unread 24th of January, 2003, 01:03
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Taking the water skin away from the nun's mouth, Nicos says

"Not too much at once, or you will make yourself sick."

Holding the water skin down to allow her another swallow, Nicos glances over at Shade.

"How are you doing over there?"
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Unread 24th of January, 2003, 04:21
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Mentally cursing herself for being insensitive to the monk's condition, Shade shifts aside giving Nicos enough room to approach with the water. The bard does so with care and concern for his charge; doubtless he had done this before. Shade's hand presses against the throbbing wound at her side, easing the pain somewhat, as she waits for Maeko to recover.

What is wrong with me, that my thoughts go immediately to vengeance when compassion is clearly needed?

At the bard's question she pulls her hand away from her side, clenching the fist without looking at it to hide the blood on her palm. It hurt but it would heal, although a few minutes alone to tend it would be necessary at some point. She answers too quickly.

"Fine, it's just a scratch."
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Unread 25th of January, 2003, 03:44
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"Sure"

Unconvinced, but unwilling to force the issue, Nicos returns his attention to Maeko.

"I do perform that spell, one more time, but I prefer not to just yet. Here take the water skin, keep her sipping at the water, not too much too quickly, and give her a chance to recover a bit before she tries to talk. She was beaten almost to death"

With that, Nicos hands shade the water skin, and gets up, making his way over to the half-orc.

"How are you?"
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  #174  
Unread 25th of January, 2003, 04:49
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Cadrius laughs a grim, mirthless laugh. For once he's the calm point, the eye of the storm, while chaos sweeps throughout the rest of the border town. He can hear the shuffling of priests moving back and forth upstairs, but these noises are almost drowned out by the mailed boots of the templars, the guardians, searching for any evil within the temple grounds.

While they might seem to have common ground, the Templars and Paladins of Herioneous were far from the brotherhood the priests wants. Though they are both holy warriors their philosophies different vastly. The Paladins primary goal is to stamp out evil in the world while helping to promote their deity's ideology. The Templars on the other hand are militaristic defenders of the temples. Instead of focusing outward they maintain a vigil inward. Neither are expected to show evil any mercy but Cadrius has always felt that the Templars are a little too eager to have a trespasser in, or an assault on, the temple. He fervently hopes they don't check the dungeon, it would be foul luck indeed if one of them knew him.

He stares at the ceiling, or at least what he thinks to be the ceiling, and sighs.

"Is this how I meet my end? Strung up like a horse thief for defending myself and my comrade's honor? Hung from the gallows and then left for the carrion birds to pick at?"

The ceiling does not reply. For a long time Cadrius merely lies on his back, contemplating his future, what little future is left anyway.

"No," he whispers, answering his question at last. He rolls over on his side and quickly falls asleep. It's an old trick learned on the fields of battle, a soldier gets what sleep he can, when he can. And by any judge he'll need every bit of rest that he can get for the next several days will be exhausting.
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Unread 28th of January, 2003, 04:05
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"I'm fine," Blarth replies to the bard's question, "but what do we do about him? He tried to rob the bar. He needs to be arrested by I see no sign of the guards getting control of the situation outside yet."

As his glance passes back and forth between the bard infront of him and the man on the floor beside him Blarth absent mindedly adjusts the compress the barmaid had placed on his wound earlier which had moved as he righted the tables.
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