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Abductions and Lies; 1st RRDC, 3rd RRD
Topic Started: Oct 3 2008, 03:56 PM (3,419 Views)
PG 17
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Uber Monk
Blood drooled out from the pirate’s mouth as Mikeil’s sword drove through him. Mikeil lifted his arm and his face with it, dragging out the sword as the pirate fell. Noticing that the pirate has a sword similar to one already in his possession, he picked it up. It looked a bit disused as well, but still serviceable.

He looked up to see several more pirates coming his way. One shot his pistol, clipping Mikeil on his left arm. Deciding it would be prudent; he turned and ran up the street. He ran into an alley way and smashed open the first door he could find. It revealed an empty kitchen, which Mikeil quickly ran through. He supposed that the residents had already fled. Hearing the sound of foot steps behind him, he fled into the next room. Thankfully it was some kind of living room, and he vaulted behind the couch. He slowed his breathing as well as he could, and listened. He heard something stalk into the room; stomp around for a bit, then leave. Mikeil, tired of waiting, bounded out from behind the couch and ran at the pirate. The pirate turned, too slowly, and Mikeil drove his twin swords through his back.

Placing his boot on the pirates back, he ripped out his swords. Turning, he found his way to the front entrance. He ran out, and continued moving. It wasn’t terribly long before he found himself in front of some mansion. A strong looking gate and fence stood in front of it, leaving Mikeil at a dead end. He kicked at the gate in frustration, and turned around. Yet again, another pirate was in his sights. The pirate lifted his sabre, and ran at Mikeil. He slashed at Mikeil, Mikeil parrying and driving the pirate into the fence. He slashed at the pirate’s back saying with each slash, “I’m getting sick and tired of these damn pirates!” The pirate’s corpse fell, a bleeding mess.
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Gordreg
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And at last, Melissa awoke. The Lady Vander was groggy at first, but Eleanor supposed it was only in a very deep sleep that Melissa wouldn't have heard the sounds of fighting to begin with. The biologist stepped aside to let Melissa climb from her bed, then followed out the door.

"It is no matter now, and yes...finding the Lady Knear and seeking shelter would seem quite wise." Eleanor nodded, her heart still beating rapidly. Following Melissa down the stairway she too called out for their hostess, but such calls soon proved themselves as redundant.

For the Lady Knear threw her door open, her stern gaze quivering as she surveyed them both quickly. Her thin knuckles had turned white, so tightly had they grasped the doorknob, but as enfeebled as her body might have become, it seemed evident that the Lady Knear still had a will of iron and a voice to match. Her commands were brisk, clear, and very direct. And neither did she wait to see them carried through, for instead as Eleanor watched, the Lady Knear led off down the corridor with a baring that bordered upon military.

There really seemed very little to do but to follow, and so follow Eleanor did. The chill on the breeze as the front door was flung open was enough to cause Lady Knear to step backward, but despite this - and despite a nearby bang that caused the whole of the lady's mansion to rattle - she kept her composure intact and summoned in Jeeves. The butler carried in each hand a fine old coat, which he presented briskly to them both in turn.

The coat Eleanor received was thick and white, trimmed with the mottled blue fur of a Basallish and faintly pungent from having been cupboarded so long. But it promised warmth, the generosity displayed by the offer was really quite touching, and Eleanor could think of no reason to refuse it had she even wanted to. She gratefully slipped into the coat, briefly admiring the soft fur of the pelt as it touched against her wrists and her neck.

"We won't dawdle." Eleanor promised, dipping very quickly in a grateful curtsey. "But I must thank you greatly for the kindness you have shown us. I would offer to help you to saftey... but I would not ask a lady of the Empire to flee her own home unless she were willing to go."

Rising, Eleanor stepped quickly out of the door. Smoke was now rising up the edge of the cliff, and the darkness of the night was pierced by the lick of rising flame and the shimmer of moonstone power. Dark shapes were moving in front of them, worried figures hauling themselves and as many possessions as could be carried along the path and away from Fransmille. Much of the population of the town seemed to be on the move, stumbling across the clifftop plateau in their bid to find somewhere to escape. Most, Eleanor noted, appeared to be turning down the path that led toward the Stone City.

"Which way do we head?" Eleanor asked Melissa as they walked toward the split in the path, the consternation upon her face quite obvious to anyone who looked there. "The Stone City would offer greater protection then the wilds of the continent, but it would also trap us neatly should the pirates choose to follow. Yet if we head down onto the plains we might become all too easy to locate..."
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Necromancer Sargoth
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Affably Evil
Melissa ran after Eleanor and Knear, struggling to keep up as they practically ran through the old manor’s hallways. Knear spoke quickly with great urgency, but Melissa slowly began to realize that they were not on the way to some secure cellar. Lady Knear was evicting them from her home and out into a city under siege by pirates or worse.

Lady Knear’s words echoes in Melissa’s mind, “Those men won't dare attack this house--unless you give them reason to. You're not safe here. You must go now.” No, Melissa thought, Knear was not safe here, so long as the outsiders were in her home. A bitter smile touched Lady Vander’s lips. It took all her strength to keep from laughing at the insanity of it all.

They had arrived in the foyer, and Lady Knear wasted no time in wrenching open the heavy front door. An icy gale washed over Melissa, giving her gooseflesh and cause to shudder. Was she walking out to her death? She took the coat offered by Jeeves and slipped it on with a frown. It fit her well, but smelled of age. The coat was a deep shade of crimson, and brought out the red in her hair. She fastened the coat around herself tightly, to ward off the cold, running her hand over the black lace trim. The material was smooth and fine, but such fare was common for a Vander. She remained unimpressed and bitter.

Eleanor and Melissa were standing outside, looking back into the secure manor. While Eleanor thanked Lady Knear for her hospitality and for kicking them out into the cold, Lady Vander remained cold and haughty, in a moody repose. The look in her eyes could convey more than words. Lady Knear would understand. Nobility had a way of communing through even the subtlest glances. Explosions and carnage was the backdrop to this scene.

Melissa turned and started walking down the gravel path leading to a fork. Eleanor followed, trying to form a plan. "Which way do we head?" Eleanor asked Melissa as they drew nearer to the point of no return. "The Stone City would offer greater protection then the wilds of the continent, but it would also trap us neatly should the pirates choose to follow. Yet if we head down onto the plains we might become all too easy to locate..."

The noble offered a dismissive wave of her hand and smiled sardonically. “Oh, Eleanor, I am too tired to run any longer. Besides, my ancestors would judge me harshly were I to huddle down with frightened townspeople or trek off to starve in the wilderness.” She ignored the fork leading to the Stone City and started off towards the town, not caring if Eleanor followed. “I am going into the thick of it, my dear woman. Into the breach, as they once said. I will either find Madison down at those docks and aid him, or I will find the man responsible for all this and end him. You are free to join me, or you may go your own way.”

With that said, Melissa breezed through the gates to Knear Manor, failing to notice one of her acquaintances from earlier. She was on a mission, or to her own death. She knew not which was more desirable. Vander only knew weariness oppressed her spirit. She would not play the scared victim anymore. Melissa Vander would die fighting back. She only wished she could see her loved ones once again. Her heart told her she would have to go through these pirates; she must find the Order.

The acrid smoke of the burning town nearly choked the nearer she drew. The harsh wind was blowing the plumes right into her. As she walked down that path, she remembered an old myth her grandfather had told her about a great warrior who had stormed the land of the dead to steal back the soul of his lover. He had walked through fire and darkness before finding her, chained to the back of a smiling monster. He slew the beast, but the two never found their way out again. They were trapped in the spirit world forever, unable to venture back to Arcadia’s skies. They became the dancing lights, guarding the gates of the underworld, warning people not the venture inside.

The streets were deserted at first, but Melissa could hear the screams of the townspeople above the din of combat. The pirates were close. Finally, she found her foes. They had flooded the streets, but paid her no mind. Apparently they had not expected anyone to be descending the path from Knear Manor. She watched them for a moment, swarming through the street and alleys. They smashed windows and poured into shops, reemerging with as many valuables they could carry. Melissa heard cries of anguish coming from homes and alleys, the cries of those who had not gotten out in time. She sneered as she spied a pirate hunched over a corpse, struggling with the body, trying to get it to part with a stubborn ring or brooch. So much fuss over trinkets and baubles. A group of pirates saw her and shouted out alarm. Now they all saw her, she smiled a bit nervously, sweat running down her brow. They were charging now. It had better work.

Melissa dug her heels into the crumbled pavers of the street and clasped her hands together, fingers lacing. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She knew the pirates would be upon her in just another moment, tearing at her, cutting her flesh, spoiling her, killing her. The first word came out as little more than a whisper, “Moons,” but it had changed everything. The blue light came first from the moonstone tucked into Melissa’s shirt, but then enveloped the woman completely. A faint wind already pushed small stones away from the mage. The pirates hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then charged all the harder. The sounds of battle melted away and Melissa heard only the song of blowing wind and running water. “Give me strength.”

The spell erupted from the woman all at once, drawing from the high gale that was already punishing the town. Several massive vortexes surged through the streets, lifting grown men, loot, and bodies as if they were leaves. Some flew over rooftops, others were merely jostled about. A cannonball nailed one of the houses near Melissa and collapsed the building, allowing more debris to feed the torrent of wind and water. The mage extended her palms and forced the energy forward, sweeping a path clear of debris and foes. She broke into a sprint and made for the docks.

Before she arrived, she was apprehended by a band of four pirates. She blew one away with a wevles surge and knocked the other out with slipara. “Tell me where your leader is, cur, or you die!” she snarled.

He advanced on her with sword draw, but a rock flew into his face before her took three steps. The other was not so stupid. “I- I’ll take you to him! Enough lady! Moons, enough!”

“Try anything foolish and you die too,” she said, trying to remain composed. Her body was screaming from the exertion. She was either on her way to the man in charge or a trap, it was hard to tell.



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Ranger
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Previously Nex Terren
"Com'on," The pirate hurried, somewhere between impatience and fear. Nervously his gaze chanced another look towards his friend. "Com'on, this way."

The gunpowder crack was lost to the general chaos of battle, but the pirate knew well enough. Slowly, he looked down, fingering his white shirt were red now slicked it. Just as slowly, he looked back up at the lady Vander, and then gasped. The man fell to the ground as yet another corpse.

"Hm. That one was loaded." Captain James spoke offhandedly, examining his revolver with quickly fading curiosity.

The four men who flanked him--hand selected as the strongest and swiftest in his unsavory crew--ground their teeth in anticipation. They adjusted their grips on their bladed weapons, slammed fists into their random pieces of armor, and huffed large clouds out nostrils into the cold night, telling of their readiness to fight. They did this, not bothering examining the bodies of their kin that lay around, instead focusing their anger towards the woman who stood not thirty feet away. In fact, the only time their focus wavered, was when they either glanced around for more targets to stare hatred into, or looked back to their captain with a snarl, waiting for permission to attack.

However, James simply stood there, just beyond stripes of darkness and firelight, attempting to maintain interest in his revolver. The woman might as well not been there for him. After blindly shoving a few extra shells into the weapon, he nodded, satisfied with himself.

"You see, I don't take kindly to people who... don't act in my best interests, I suppose... life in peril or not." The gun lazily twirled around his finger, the man absentmindedly examining the fires around him.

With a decided crunch, the building next to him gave way, sending a rain of sparks. The four brute pirates fell back, wisely fearful of the fire. The captain did no such thing. Instead he stood there, smirking at the display. True to his faith, the sparks and burning timbers fell neatly around him. The four resumed their guard over their master.

"You're quite brave, if I dare say so myself." He continued, in the same nonchalant manner as before. "Buildings collapsing, cannonballs flying, bullets screaming through the air... all random chance. You don't know if you'll be standing here one moment, and the next a six inch ball of iron will take the place of your head. Quite brave. Random chance is dictating each and every second if you live or die, and yet you stay here, instead of seeking shelter.

"Blue magic, is it? I've always been more of a fan of silver, myself. Can't think of a moon's magic that you can trust more. Oh blue, you always know what that's going to do. Silver... well, you don't." He fished a gold coin out of his pocket with his free hand, and began to turn it over and over. His eyes traced the patterns raging firelight made on its surface, still not looking up towards the master-mage before him. Still not acknowledging she was even there, beyond casual conversation. "How can you put your trust in something you always predict? There's simply no trust to be had."


Super Move: Coin Toss

Gold glimmer in golden moonlight, the coin spun out of his hand on its journey of chance. James grinned, fascinated with that piece, that dancer unmatched in beauty by any other craft of the skies. Heads, tails. Heads, tails. Crown, seal. Crown, seal. One way, the other. One way, the other...

It impacted the brick-laid path, rebounded up, and back into flight. This time it didn't spin, instead only wavered, side fighting side in attempt to be the one which landed face up. Again it smashed into stone but this time there was no return to flight. The coin had landed impossibly on edge, hesitantly waiting under the trembling impact of nearby cannonballs. The captain only looked on, his face holding not a touch of surprise. Instead he only continued to smile.

A cannonball screeched just inches over the coin, providing the final blow to an inferno-once-home. At the same instant, another flew directly behind Melissa. If its flight path had only been shifted a few inches to the left, Captain James's conversation would have ended without noble lady's reply.

The coin finally moved, but it was not a picking of sides. Instead it began to roll down the path, twisting with the uneven mortar, jarring when chancing upon a poorly placed brick. James followed behind, hands folded behind his back. However, for ever long stride he took, the coin made twice the distance. This didn't concern the captain, instead he only let it roll on, out-pacing him. However, speed wouldn't always be the gold mark's to claim. The rough surface took its tool on its travels, and it began to wobble. Turning, it circled around the once-eager to please pirate, now cooling corpse, and began to close the handful of strides it had strength left to cover. Closer and closer, slower and slower, it masted the final leg of its travels.

And there it stopped, at Melissa's feet, still on edge. Impossibly still on edge.

End Super Move: Coin Toss


Captain James barked a hearty laugh, looking away toward the port where beyond the fog his ship roared. Shaking his head, he turned away. The lifeless form at his feet briefly claimed his notice. After nudging the pirate over on its side, James planted a foot on the dead, digging boot in so he'd have solid footing. He leaned on his elevated knee, and, for the first time, looked at the Valuan noble lady.

Captain James grinned wolfishly.

"So, you wanted to see me?"




PG 17 1/3 Monday, 3-30-09
Gordreg 0/3 Tuesday, 3-31-09
Necromancer Sargoth 2/3 Wednesday, 4-1-09

Dead Crawlers

Click name to visit death-post.

Nex Terren (December 11 2008; Death told by PG 17)
Colaya (Jan 30 2009; Death told by Gordreg)
SummerRayn (Jan 30 2009; Death told by Gordreg)
Edited by Ranger, Mar 29 2009, 05:53 PM.
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PG 17
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Uber Monk
Mikeil watched as one of the woman, Vander, he thought, ran towards and past him, back into the town.
“Hey! Wait, there are pirates down there, you know?!” She ignored him, running deeper in the flaming town.
“Oh, God damnit...” Mikeil growled, chasing after her. She was quicker than he expected, and she had already run into pirates. Moving forward to try and deal with them, he felt a large wind begin to pick up. Gripping his hat, he sidestepped into a nearby building. The wind shook the timbers, and Mikeil crouched into a corner. The howl continued for a few more minutes, and then finally abated. Picking himself up, he dusted off his coat, and headed out the door. Wreckage lay everywhere, along with the bodies of pirates and townspeople.

Well, guess he didn’t need to help her after all. Still, it might be a good idea to go after her. She wasn’t in the area, so Mikeil assumed she was heading for the docks. Adjusting his hat, he ran off. Thankfully, he didn’t meet any pirates. He guessed they had ran off from where the wind had ripped the street apart.

Finally reaching the docks, he saw Vander and five men. One stood a bit in front, and he looked important, like a captain. As Mikeil watched, he flipped a coin, and it landed on its side on the ground. It bounced off the pavement, and fell again. It stood still on its edge, until a cannonball flew over it, making it move along the street. The man followed after it, until it finally stopped, right in front of Vander.

The man dug his foot into a dead pirate, and said something that Mikeil couldn’t quite hear. Thinking it was a good time to jump in, Mikeil ran over beside Vander. Brandishing his swords, he said “I’d wager you’re the captain, right?” Mikeil took a menacing step forward. “I want my weapons back.” He said darkly.
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The reply had not been one that Eleanor had expected, and she blinked, uncertain of Melissa’s reasoning. With what did she plan to confront the pirates, Eleanor wondered? The Lady Knear might have given them coats to protect against bitter winds, but she’d neglected to supply them with anything that remotely bordered upon being a weapon… and even if she had, Eleanor had little in the way of arms training to use in anything more then a formal fencing bout.

And if Melissa had decided to head down into the town even in the midst of a disaster such as this one, then Eleanor highly doubted that the lady Vander’s mind would be open to change. Deciding that attempting to debate would be useless and only waste the little time that they had before the pirates reached the higher levels of the town, Eleanor gave a reluctant nod of her head.

“I think you’re mad to go down there, but I wish you luck.” She nodded again, pulling her borrowed coat a little tighter about her to shield herself from the roaring wind. “May the moons bless you, Melissa…”

Eleanor walked alongside Melissa until they passed through the manor gates, whereupon as Melissa turned left to head downward, Eleanor turned right onto the pathway toward the Stone City. The path was already crowded with the refugees of Fransmille, a tide of humanity heading away from the fighting as their village burned behind them. Scared and panicked, they were fleeing their homes with as much or as little as they’d had time to grab before running… which in most cases, Eleanor noticed, didn’t appear to be very much at all. Perhaps a few provisions, hastily packed; perhaps the family silver slipped quickly into the depths of a sack. Enough for a few days, at best… and that was assuming the pirates didn’t find them again before they’d started to run out.

But she’d been through this before. Back in the city of her birth, back when the moonstones had come cashing downward in their thousands, and it had seemed like the world was going to end. Back when the great markets and warehouses had been burned to cinders in raging storms of blazing fire, and the entire surviving population of the city had been forced to take shelter within the depths of the ancient system of sewers.

Then, they’d fed on Tsirat, on Bassallish, and on Crylhound when they could catch it. They’d plucked fungus from dank alcoves, scraped the mould from the tunnel walls, and boiled it up in rusted pans. They’d rationed and shared their meagre stocks, and somehow it had worked for just long enough to keep the majority alive.

She didn’t know if those skills would be needed again. For all Eleanor knew, the Armada might be back to restore order within a day. But there was no point in making overly positive assumptions, no point in simply hoping that the best would come and doing nothing to prepare for the possible worst. Even as she marched along the curving Cliffside path amidst the throng, Eleanor started to think what her first actions would be upon reaching the ruins…
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Necromancer Sargoth
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Melissa watched James carefully as he followed his coin’s progress along the ground. She allowed his words to wash over her, affecting a quality of apathy. Something told her the captain did not truly desire answers, but simply wanted to unnerve her. Unnerved she was too. With every explosion, Lady Vander struggled to keep from cowering. She managed to remain perfectly poised, solid as a statue. Her face remained a vision of calm save for a slight quiver at the corners of her mouth. Whether or not the pirate captain saw through this crack in her noble façade, she knew not.

Terror gripped at her heart as a cannonball nearly ended her life; the heat of the explosion behind her caused beads of sweat to collect on her back. She felt them roll down her skin until they met the fabric encircling her waist tightly. A scream welled up in her throat, but she crushed it through sheer force of will. She felt out of breath; James looked serene, even joyous. She wondered if he too merely acted a role, but there was the possibility he was mad, his wits long banished from his mind.

The coin rolled lazily along the scorched pavement, wobbling precariously. Melissa did not know what would happen when the gold finally fell flat; she only knew it would decide something important for her person. The coin stopped at her feet and remained on its side. Fire raged around the pirates and the noblewoman, moans of suffering audible only when the horrific roar of cannons subsided as the crew reloaded for another savage volley. The moment was too surreal. Vander felt as if she were watching herself from above, waiting with baited breath to find out what came next. The more she struggled to keep a posture of stone, the more pinched her face appeared, her beauty deformed by scorn, masked fear, and the light of the conflagration engulfing Fransmille.

Just when she felt that the pressure had become too much; when she felt she would snap; when the wails of death would ravage her soul, the captain burst out in laughter. What was she to do? She could not help but join in. The whole situation was so patently insane; she could either laugh or cry. She laughed a nervous laugh, one betraying her inner horror, devoid of mirth. Melissa stopped herself as the captain’s raucous laughter faded away. They regarded each other, firelight reflected in their eyes. His eyes were cold, with a tinge of amusement gracing the edges. Hers were haggard, tired, but determined. That statuesque composure returned, and she looked quite as if she knew what she was doing. She narrowed her eyes to meet his smile with a glower of disapproval.

"So, you wanted to see me?" he asked. He asked the question so simply, as if going to chat with the pirate captain pillaging the town were a perfectly natural decision to make. It irked Melissa to know end. How could he be so calm? All those people…

“Why, yes,” Melissa managed, her voice barely a squeak relative to the din of the bombardment and inferno. “Yes,” she said again, louder, with more certainty. “I have a proposition for you, pirate. We need not be ene-“

Just then Mellissa felt a rush of wind and a presence at her side. She looked over and regarded her fellow prisoner with shock. She had not expected anyone else to follow her to what may be certain death.

““I’d wager you’re the captain, right?” Mikeil took a menacing step forward. “I want my weapons back.” He said darkly.”

Melissa rose her hand, gesturing for peace. “Come now, there is no need for conflict here. Hear me!” She stepped forward, hand still raised as if to hold back her new ally. “This encounter can serve both our interests. My name is Melissa Vander; I want freedom, chance may be that you would enjoy being a wealthy man.” Melissa smirked. “We could fight one another. I might kill you; you might kill me. Only death can be gained from that. There is an alternative, however. You could take me back to your ship and deliver me safely to civilization. I gain freedom, and my family will see to it that you become a wealthy man, much more wealth than could be yielded from the sack of this backwater. What say you? We could stand out here and negotiate back and forth, but your vaulted chaos might send some of those shells our way. Luck can only last so long, captain.” She crossed her arms, waiting for his response. “What is your decision?”

The coin at Melissa’s feet remained on edge, but wobbled precariously. The firelight danced over its polished surface, reflecting the scene in minute form as it played out around it.
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