Mithon was tired of the rain. The dreary downpour and roaring waves never seemed to end. Rain was for the most part, terrible. The roads turned to mud, everything was wet and one could never seem to warm up, it made starting fires harder, and it reminded him of that village that hurricane had wiped out the day he had gotten there.Mithon had arrived before his soon-to-be commanding officer, so the Steward stopped him.
"Ah those times were something, right Yehomilk?" The horse whinnied in response.
It was not only the rain that concerned him though, the Order had its problems for a person such as himself. This was mostly an order of elves, not men. The elves turned their noses up at a lowly human, and his fellow men turned their noses at this strange man with his foreign accent that to some made every word incomprehensible. He would have received many a taunt about it had they not seen the work he had done in the infirmary when he had got there. A few of those in there owed him their lives now, foreign human or not. Speaking of which, it was time to return to there. Though no new men had come in, many still required tending to. The Order had given him a room right across from it despite it being of far greater accommodations then somebody of his rank in the order required, so overall not everything was terrible.
Despite being forced into the Order, it was actually an improvement in the end, no worries about angry mobs or any of the other disasters that seemed to follow him. He had good accommodations, food consistently in his stomach and a place for his brave horse that had taken this far. He could do the work of his god without interruption from local halfwits who knew nothing of the heal arts or false mystics who claimed divine power but in reality just put on a show. He didn't have to go out in this terrible rain.
He should have known it would all come to a crashing end. A knock on his door was nothing new at this point, another patient come in he thought. Instead he was given a summons, pack his horse and go to the courtyard, you're going on a mission, and we're taking your nice room too. A standard mission. Another test from Kal.
Fortunately for him, a part of him knew this wouldn't last, so he hadn't actually made much of an effort on the room. He quickly packed up his small collection of books and herbs, put on his priestly vestments, took his staff from where he left it leaning on the wall and went off to the stables to pack his horse with his provisions. Once he had done that, he did as he was told and went to the courtyard to await his commander and compatriots.
"Just another day in our lives Yehomilk, just another day." And the horse whinnied once again.
"Indeed I am, and no I have no idea where I'm going, I was simply told to pack up and report here. My robes are better suited then you would think, they are blessed with magics that make them both warmer and help me in my art. And trust me, I have spent plenty of time ankle deep in mud, though I'm fortunate enough that the Order has kindly provided me with good boots for once in my life. I have no idea how I'm here before the captain, but perhaps my few possessions made my packing quicker then his."Mithon was tired of the rain. The dreary downpour and roaring waves never seemed to end. Rain was for the most part, terrible. The roads turned to mud, everything was wet and one could never seem to warm up, it made starting fires harder, and it reminded him of that village that hurricane had wiped out the day he had gotten there.Mithon had arrived before his soon-to-be commanding officer, so the Steward stopped him.
"Ah those times were something, right Yehomilk?" The horse whinnied in response.
It was not only the rain that concerned him though, the Order had its problems for a person such as himself. This was mostly an order of elves, not men. The elves turned their noses up at a lowly human, and his fellow men turned their noses at this strange man with his foreign accent that to some made every word incomprehensible. He would have received many a taunt about it had they not seen the work he had done in the infirmary when he had got there. A few of those in there owed him their lives now, foreign human or not. Speaking of which, it was time to return to there. Though no new men had come in, many still required tending to. The Order had given him a room right across from it despite it being of far greater accommodations then somebody of his rank in the order required, so overall not everything was terrible.
Despite being forced into the Order, it was actually an improvement in the end, no worries about angry mobs or any of the other disasters that seemed to follow him. He had good accommodations, food consistently in his stomach and a place for his brave horse that had taken this far. He could do the work of his god without interruption from local halfwits who knew nothing of the heal arts or false mystics who claimed divine power but in reality just put on a show. He didn't have to go out in this terrible rain.
He should have known it would all come to a crashing end. A knock on his door was nothing new at this point, another patient come in he thought. Instead he was given a summons, pack his horse and go to the courtyard, you're going on a mission, and we're taking your nice room too. A standard mission. Another test from Kal.
Fortunately for him, a part of him knew this wouldn't last, so he hadn't actually made much of an effort on the room. He quickly packed up his small collection of books and herbs, put on his priestly vestments, took his staff from where he left it leaning on the wall and went off to the stables to pack his horse with his provisions. Once he had done that, he did as he was told and went to the courtyard to await his commander and compatriots.
"Just another day in our lives Yehomilk, just another day." And the horse whinnied once again.
"Hold on there, human. You are the medicus, yes? Your commander the Knight-Captain has yet to arrive. Were you informed where you are going before you were summoned? Those priestly robes won't be doing you much good when you're ankle deep in mud and freezing on the way to Rendalis."
"Ha! Yes, I'm sure your little 'pentarchs' will keep you warm. Anyway, it's probably best you wait here while the other arrive. Can't have you trying to preach to the senior officers.""Indeed I am, and no I have no idea where I'm going, I was simply told to pack up and report here. My robes are better suited then you would think, they are blessed with magics that make them both warmer and help me in my art. And trust me, I have spent plenty of time ankle deep in mud, though I'm fortunate enough that the Order has kindly provided me with good boots for once in my life. I have no idea how I'm here before the captain, but perhaps my few possessions made my packing quicker then his."Mithon was tired of the rain. The dreary downpour and roaring waves never seemed to end. Rain was for the most part, terrible. The roads turned to mud, everything was wet and one could never seem to warm up, it made starting fires harder, and it reminded him of that village that hurricane had wiped out the day he had gotten there.Mithon had arrived before his soon-to-be commanding officer, so the Steward stopped him.
"Ah those times were something, right Yehomilk?" The horse whinnied in response.
It was not only the rain that concerned him though, the Order had its problems for a person such as himself. This was mostly an order of elves, not men. The elves turned their noses up at a lowly human, and his fellow men turned their noses at this strange man with his foreign accent that to some made every word incomprehensible. He would have received many a taunt about it had they not seen the work he had done in the infirmary when he had got there. A few of those in there owed him their lives now, foreign human or not. Speaking of which, it was time to return to there. Though no new men had come in, many still required tending to. The Order had given him a room right across from it despite it being of far greater accommodations then somebody of his rank in the order required, so overall not everything was terrible.
Despite being forced into the Order, it was actually an improvement in the end, no worries about angry mobs or any of the other disasters that seemed to follow him. He had good accommodations, food consistently in his stomach and a place for his brave horse that had taken this far. He could do the work of his god without interruption from local halfwits who knew nothing of the heal arts or false mystics who claimed divine power but in reality just put on a show. He didn't have to go out in this terrible rain.
He should have known it would all come to a crashing end. A knock on his door was nothing new at this point, another patient come in he thought. Instead he was given a summons, pack his horse and go to the courtyard, you're going on a mission, and we're taking your nice room too. A standard mission. Another test from Kal.
Fortunately for him, a part of him knew this wouldn't last, so he hadn't actually made much of an effort on the room. He quickly packed up his small collection of books and herbs, put on his priestly vestments, took his staff from where he left it leaning on the wall and went off to the stables to pack his horse with his provisions. Once he had done that, he did as he was told and went to the courtyard to await his commander and compatriots.
"Just another day in our lives Yehomilk, just another day." And the horse whinnied once again.
"Hold on there, human. You are the medicus, yes? Your commander the Knight-Captain has yet to arrive. Were you informed where you are going before you were summoned? Those priestly robes won't be doing you much good when you're ankle deep in mud and freezing on the way to Rendalis."
Truth be told he had never been sure about the robes. The warmer part was true but he was never quite sure Melqart had ever gotten to the second part. Still, they for the most part made sure he was never freezing at least. Though he had spent plenty of time cold. And their sentimental value to him made him loath to ever abandon them, even if he was going to get into danger. Kal would protect him if nothing else.
OOC: I really need to look over these things better before I post them.
Mithon simply gave a glare and held his tongue. Plenty of people had always doubted the powers of the Pentarch's but they would realize in time the folly of their ways, or pay the price."Ha! Yes, I'm sure your little 'pentarchs' will keep you warm. Anyway, it's probably best you wait here while the other arrive. Can't have you trying to preach to the senior officers.""Indeed I am, and no I have no idea where I'm going, I was simply told to pack up and report here. My robes are better suited then you would think, they are blessed with magics that make them both warmer and help me in my art. And trust me, I have spent plenty of time ankle deep in mud, though I'm fortunate enough that the Order has kindly provided me with good boots for once in my life. I have no idea how I'm here before the captain, but perhaps my few possessions made my packing quicker then his."Mithon was tired of the rain. The dreary downpour and roaring waves never seemed to end. Rain was for the most part, terrible. The roads turned to mud, everything was wet and one could never seem to warm up, it made starting fires harder, and it reminded him of that village that hurricane had wiped out the day he had gotten there.Mithon had arrived before his soon-to-be commanding officer, so the Steward stopped him.
"Ah those times were something, right Yehomilk?" The horse whinnied in response.
It was not only the rain that concerned him though, the Order had its problems for a person such as himself. This was mostly an order of elves, not men. The elves turned their noses up at a lowly human, and his fellow men turned their noses at this strange man with his foreign accent that to some made every word incomprehensible. He would have received many a taunt about it had they not seen the work he had done in the infirmary when he had got there. A few of those in there owed him their lives now, foreign human or not. Speaking of which, it was time to return to there. Though no new men had come in, many still required tending to. The Order had given him a room right across from it despite it being of far greater accommodations then somebody of his rank in the order required, so overall not everything was terrible.
Despite being forced into the Order, it was actually an improvement in the end, no worries about angry mobs or any of the other disasters that seemed to follow him. He had good accommodations, food consistently in his stomach and a place for his brave horse that had taken this far. He could do the work of his god without interruption from local halfwits who knew nothing of the heal arts or false mystics who claimed divine power but in reality just put on a show. He didn't have to go out in this terrible rain.
He should have known it would all come to a crashing end. A knock on his door was nothing new at this point, another patient come in he thought. Instead he was given a summons, pack his horse and go to the courtyard, you're going on a mission, and we're taking your nice room too. A standard mission. Another test from Kal.
Fortunately for him, a part of him knew this wouldn't last, so he hadn't actually made much of an effort on the room. He quickly packed up his small collection of books and herbs, put on his priestly vestments, took his staff from where he left it leaning on the wall and went off to the stables to pack his horse with his provisions. Once he had done that, he did as he was told and went to the courtyard to await his commander and compatriots.
"Just another day in our lives Yehomilk, just another day." And the horse whinnied once again.
"Hold on there, human. You are the medicus, yes? Your commander the Knight-Captain has yet to arrive. Were you informed where you are going before you were summoned? Those priestly robes won't be doing you much good when you're ankle deep in mud and freezing on the way to Rendalis."
Truth be told he had never been sure about the robes. The warmer part was true but he was never quite sure Melqart had ever gotten to the second part. Still, they for the most part made sure he was never freezing at least. Though he had spent plenty of time cold. And their sentimental value to him made him loath to ever abandon them, even if he was going to get into danger. Kal would protect him if nothing else.
OOC: I really need to look over these things better before I post them.
Mundzac was spending his time in one of his three favorite places, the stables tending to his horse. When he wasn't caring for his horse, he was in his tent asleep (or drinking), and when he wasn't asleep he was on watch with his horse. He preferred it that way, he had practically been born in the saddle and was probably the best horseman here, far better than any of those fancy dress elves or those goatmen nords. When he watched the elf walk his fancy dressed up mare into the stables (he had to admit respect in the care the knife-ear obviously showed to his mount), Mundzac realized he was late. Not feeling like walking over to the two and seeing one of them already mounted, he hoped upon his horse, Haddi, and rode over to them. He always wore the colors of the Griffin but never the armor, preferring speed and dexterity over the clanking armor that could hurt the horse with extended timing. On his saddle mounted everything he could need, his bow holster and arrows, several good sized fighting knives, and a freakishly brutish looking curved sword. As he trotted slowly over to the gentlemen gathered in the courtyard and said in stark contrast to the Elven manneristic man. "Mournin everybody, enjoying the great bloody fockin weather we're 'avin?" Mundzac wore a leather gambeson hiding his scalemaile shirt underneath. Baggy trousers and very sturdy boots graced his outward below the belt garments and a sheepskin coat kept the assembly nice and warm.The befuddled old Steward looked at the rogue with obvious distaste. His first comment, however, was rather businesslike,
OOC: This character is literally the personality of Bronn with a fighting style of the Dothraki from Game of Thrones I have decided
The devastation was horrific to behold, though the stench of death had not disgusted him a long while. This, plague, this monstrosity, was far beyond anything he had ever witnessed before. The entire outer city, dead? He had seen neighborhoods struck down by some of the worst plagues in the land certainly, this however, went far beyond anything he'd seen. The few living here were far beyond helping. It pained him to know that there was nothing he could do for the poor souls.Nidesis didn't feel like guessing at the cause was necessary, he knew that the Arch-Mage probably already had his suspicions, though another thought was creeping into his head. The Arch-Mage was probably holed up in his tower like cowardly nobles always are, what would he know? He decided to wait until they'd gotten inside to reach a conclusion.
"This... this is unnatural. There is no disease known to any that could cause such devastation. At least, none that I know of, and I've spent much of my time learning about the most horrific of plagues to strike lands. This is not one of them. This, is something far beyond it."
Rhys became even more concerned. Monsters (magical or mundane) and bandits he could handle, but if they were merely being led into a pit of misma or a den of magical traps to get sick and die, this mission was not something he wished to have a great part in. And yet here he was, trotting along with the rest of them.A very annoyed Nidesis heard what the mage had asked for,
"Hannikal," he said casually. "I'm afraid my skill in casting wards against disease is somewhat lacking for this expedition. Perhaps you could call upon the power of your Pentarchs to provide a modicum of protection?"
A very annoyed Nidesis heard what the mage had asked for,Rhys was equally incensed. The smell of ozone wafted through the air as sparks danced along his hands. "If I were to show you 'real' magic, boy, you would wish to be buried alive instead."
"Prayers won't help us, Rhys. I'd prefer one of you two learn how to use some real magic instead of trying to call for the aid of demons that have no interest in helping us."
Rhys nodded, smelling the incense. "Very well. I hope your rituals aren't all hoaxes. In any case..."Hannikal's lecternHannikal was somewhat surprised, somewhat annoyed by how callous his commander was being. He realized the elves didn't believe in the same gods, but calling them demons? Absurd!
"Sir, you assume too little of me, one doesn't survive in my profession without having proper wards against disease. And these "demons" help all, human, nord or elf. Kal is nothing if not merciful. I shall of course cast a ward against disease."
He then began to chant in his native tongue, which would sound like gibberish to the rest of the party members.
"Oh Kal, though we are not truly worthy of your protection, I do ask your divine blessing against any disease that may assail us, that you may keep me and my compatriots healthy, even those who may blaspheme your name, for you are great and merciful oh Kal."
He then took a small amount of herbs from his pouch, put them in a small metal bowl and set them alight, the smell overpowering even the stench of death around them. Once this was done he threw the ashes over his shoulder and put the bowl back in his bag.
Returning to their common language he said.
"We should be safe, the spell has never failed me or my fellows in the Priesthood of Kal."
Mundzac had simply been riding along, not saying much. When the priest began his ritual he chuckled to himself thinking, "I never needed no bloody prayer to keep me safe in the wild." He looked at the city. Turning to the Knight-Commander he bluntly asked, "Is this place really worth savin'? I rather liked breathin' and what not." He dismounted. "I mean I'll follow you and all, but take some practicality into your thoughts when considering if a sentimental city is worth savin'." He unhooked his sword ((Large khopesh)) and secured it to his waist and did likewise with his bow.Rhys seemed amused at Mundzac's comments.
Rhys was equally incensed. The smell of ozone wafted through the air as sparks danced along his hands. "If I were to show you 'real' magic, boy, you would wish to be buried alive instead."Nidesis was not the kind that would simply back down from a threat like that out of fear, nor to let it go, pointing his spear so one thrust could cut the mage's throat, he decided to show some anger like his peers did when they had to deal with insubordinate charges
The spell dissipated, and he sighed. "Whatever we are searching for destroyed an entire city overnight. If there was any chance that he could help, no matter how heretical or far fetched, I would take it. Besides, you would not have brought him with us if you believed he was truly useless, would you?"
Rhys realized that he had wasted most of his power already, with the combined costs of the wards, the explosion, and the blizzard bolt taking their toll on his large but still limited magika reserves. He had to buy some time.The monster began to slip and tumbled into the wall. Screaming again in terrible pain, it crawled back onto its feet. Its bleeding acidic wound began to melt the pool of ice beneath it. Still very much disoriented, now was likely a good chance to finish it off.
"Coçeen í jris!"
Stepping back from the beast, he cast a light spell meant to freeze the floor beneath the dragon's claws, in order to destabilize and disorient the enemy. Rhys stood away, letting the power return to him.
Halvor was awoken by a terribly loud scream. When he opened his eyes, he saw a large hole in the ceiling, which was very confusing. He heard more commotion and then another bone-chilling scream. He sat up and saw the battle before his eyes. He quickly stood up, feeling a bit dizzied, then felt the back of his head. Blood. A final flash of light and a scream brought him fully into the situation. The dragon was bleeding and disoriented. He reached down for his bow, knocked an arrow and shot it at the dragon's wound in its side, followed by another shot at the underside of its neck.The monster reared its head toward Halvor after it felt another stinging pain in its side, and would ripped the recuperating Nord in half had he not fired the second arrow, which pierced the monster's fleshy underside and severed a vital artery, causing a flood of acidic blood onto the floor, which melted beneath it as yet another floor of the intricate undercity collapsed beneath it. Luckily for the Knights, this time it did not swallow them as well.
The monster reared its head toward Halvor after it felt another stinging pain in its side, and would ripped the recuperating Nord in half had he not fired the second arrow, which pierced the monster's fleshy underside and severed a vital artery, causing a flood of acidic blood onto the floor, which melted beneath it as yet another floor of the intricate undercity collapsed beneath it. Luckily for the Knights, this time it did not swallow them as well.Mundzac simply shook his head, disappointed he did not get a chance to do something to the beast, yet pleased that the creature didn't get a chance to attack him in turn. "No I don't think I do have any objections. Though we might want to be a bit more careful going foreward. This beast looks small and I don't know much about dragons but I know that some mothers take care of their young." He chuckled. "And if this acid stuff is their blood, I'd hate to see one of these fockers when its that time of month." Mundzac paused to appreciate his sense of humor. He didn't quite mind the stench, in his time fighting he's smelt worse.
Making his way to the edge of the hole the monster fell into, the Knight-Captain saw its mangled corpse lay lifeless in the midst of yet another great chamber.
How far down did the ancients go? Nidesis thought to himself.
Stepping away from the edge, he tried his best to gather together the team.
"Well, men, we slayed the beast that was causing this illness, and brought honor to the Order. However, as you can plainly see our job is not yet done. We have no way of getting back up to the surface from this chamber, so I say we go down into those ruins the beast fell into and see if they lead us back out. Any objections?"
"Well, when it comes to lizards, their 'time of the month' just means laying eggs, containing an embryo or not depending on whether they had mated since the last such period. A bit like a chicken, really. And before you ask, the eggs taste terrible. As for the mother, she's probably far off considering the offspring looked to be exiting the adolescent stage, though I suppose anything's possible."The monster reared its head toward Halvor after it felt another stinging pain in its side, and would ripped the recuperating Nord in half had he not fired the second arrow, which pierced the monster's fleshy underside and severed a vital artery, causing a flood of acidic blood onto the floor, which melted beneath it as yet another floor of the intricate undercity collapsed beneath it. Luckily for the Knights, this time it did not swallow them as well.Mundzac simply shook his head, disappointed he did not get a chance to do something to the beast, yet pleased that the creature didn't get a chance to attack him in turn. "No I don't think I do have any objections. Though we might want to be a bit more careful going foreward. This beast looks small and I don't know much about dragons but I know that some mothers take care of their young." He chuckled. "And if this acid stuff is their blood, I'd hate to see one of these fockers when its that time of month." Mundzac paused to appreciate his sense of humor. He didn't quite mind the stench, in his time fighting he's smelt worse.
Making his way to the edge of the hole the monster fell into, the Knight-Captain saw its mangled corpse lay lifeless in the midst of yet another great chamber.
How far down did the ancients go? Nidesis thought to himself.
Stepping away from the edge, he tried his best to gather together the team.
"Well, men, we slayed the beast that was causing this illness, and brought honor to the Order. However, as you can plainly see our job is not yet done. We have no way of getting back up to the surface from this chamber, so I say we go down into those ruins the beast fell into and see if they lead us back out. Any objections?"
"Well, when it comes to lizards, their 'time of the month' just means laying eggs, containing an embryo or not depending on whether they had mated since the last such period. A bit like a chicken, really. And before you ask, the eggs taste terrible. As for the mother, she's probably far off considering the offspring looked to be exiting the adolescent stage, though I suppose anything's possible."Mundzac shook his head seeing the joke went clear over the Commander's head. Once the commander made it too the bottom, the roguish fighter followed. "Ah its smellin more and more like my old home." When he got to the bottom he unsheathed his blade, the black metal barely visable in torch light, and rested its hooklike edge on his padded shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder why you dressed up bastards wanted a 'wretch' like me in yer ranks, but now I get it, you needed someone who would be willing to climb into hell holes like this without complaining." With that he let out a quiet chuckle.
Looking around, Nidesis spotted the corpses of the late expedition into the sewers. Their chewed up bones were completely stripped of flesh, with only the shreds of their clothes and a few bits of puked up armor to indicate what they once were. Upon further inspection, he discovered a rope that would do nicely for descending into the ruins. After tying it around a pillar, he threw it through the hole and began to climb down.
"You wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't know how to fight. The real measure of a Griffin Knight is in ability and willingness to kill monsters, not kissing up to some Magisters and acting as their agents as some would like to think. The old heroes never stopped because of some political fallout or any of that nonsense. They killed every single abomination in sight. It's what made this order great, and it's what will put it back on the path to greatness.""Well, when it comes to lizards, their 'time of the month' just means laying eggs, containing an embryo or not depending on whether they had mated since the last such period. A bit like a chicken, really. And before you ask, the eggs taste terrible. As for the mother, she's probably far off considering the offspring looked to be exiting the adolescent stage, though I suppose anything's possible."Mundzac shook his head seeing the joke went clear over the Commander's head. Once the commander made it too the bottom, the roguish fighter followed. "Ah its smellin more and more like my old home." When he got to the bottom he unsheathed his blade, the black metal barely visable in torch light, and rested its hooklike edge on his padded shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder why you dressed up bastards wanted a 'wretch' like me in yer ranks, but now I get it, you needed someone who would be willing to climb into hell holes like this without complaining." With that he let out a quiet chuckle.
Looking around, Nidesis spotted the corpses of the late expedition into the sewers. Their chewed up bones were completely stripped of flesh, with only the shreds of their clothes and a few bits of puked up armor to indicate what they once were. Upon further inspection, he discovered a rope that would do nicely for descending into the ruins. After tying it around a pillar, he threw it through the hole and began to climb down.
The ancients sure knew how to build their cities. Rhys largely ignored his comrades, admiring the remarkably well-preserved architecture.monuments men"You wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't know how to fight. The real measure of a Griffin Knight is in ability and willingness to kill monsters, not kissing up to some Magisters and acting as their agents as some would like to think. The old heroes never stopped because of some political fallout or any of that nonsense. They killed every single abomination in sight. It's what made this order great, and it's what will put it back on the path to greatness."
When Nidesis reached the bottom, he finally caught sight of the great ruins that had been obscured for so long.
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It was the most monumental thing he had ever seen. The architecture reminded him in many ways of the Underground Tower City of Terris. He had thought it was the only one of its kind, but here he could plainly see he was wrong.
Why did the people of Rendalis abandon this place?
it was a question he wasn't sure he would ever get an answer for. The decision to move to the surface must have been made centuries ago. Moving to the only passage that hadn't been closed off by rubble, a winding tunnel full of carvings which presumably told the story of the city and its inhabitants led on for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't read anything on them, it was all in a very old, extinct dialect of the Elven common language. Still, he felt his curiosity get the better of him, and he took a rubbing of some of the more important looking carvings and carried on. Eventually the tunnel stopped at a great domed hall. Other tunnels seemed to empty there as well. It was some kind of transit hub, that was for sure. Knowing that going the wrong way could mean a slow death from starvation and thirst in this sprawling complex, Nidesis stopped and asked some of his companions where they ought to go next.
"I took a few rubbings just in case. Loklin will surely be interested in...wait, do you hear that?"The ancients sure knew how to build their cities. Rhys largely ignored his comrades, admiring the remarkably well-preserved architecture.monuments men"You wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't know how to fight. The real measure of a Griffin Knight is in ability and willingness to kill monsters, not kissing up to some Magisters and acting as their agents as some would like to think. The old heroes never stopped because of some political fallout or any of that nonsense. They killed every single abomination in sight. It's what made this order great, and it's what will put it back on the path to greatness."
When Nidesis reached the bottom, he finally caught sight of the great ruins that had been obscured for so long.
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It was the most monumental thing he had ever seen. The architecture reminded him in many ways of the Underground Tower City of Terris. He had thought it was the only one of its kind, but here he could plainly see he was wrong.
Why did the people of Rendalis abandon this place?
it was a question he wasn't sure he would ever get an answer for. The decision to move to the surface must have been made centuries ago. Moving to the only passage that hadn't been closed off by rubble, a winding tunnel full of carvings which presumably told the story of the city and its inhabitants led on for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't read anything on them, it was all in a very old, extinct dialect of the Elven common language. Still, he felt his curiosity get the better of him, and he took a rubbing of some of the more important looking carvings and carried on. Eventually the tunnel stopped at a great domed hall. Other tunnels seemed to empty there as well. It was some kind of transit hub, that was for sure. Knowing that going the wrong way could mean a slow death from starvation and thirst in this sprawling complex, Nidesis stopped and asked some of his companions where they ought to go next.
"Mmm... Fascinating. A large ancient complex, built underground to hide from the dragons, no doubt."
He then walked to the inscriptions on one of the tunnels and squinted at it.
"Gah. Curses. I'm afraid these particular pieces of Elven script are of the transitionary era: the words and letters are neither Classical Elven nor Modern Elven, but an inconsistent and messy blend between the two. I can decipher them, but it might take me some time, and the translations might be unsatisfactory."
Typical Elf, Halvor thought."Anyone feel like carrying our Nordic comrade? No? Well, I suppose our only option is to try and kill it while it's asleep. Its weak point is its underside, but that's currently not exposed. I say we split up into two teams. One will go up in front of the monster and distract it. The second will be lying in wait for when that happens, and will sneak up behind it before said distraction. This way while the Dragon charges at the distraction, the second team can strike its underside as soon as it's exposed. Nord, you're obviously going to be in the distraction team, and I feel I should join you as I've more experience in dealing with these creatures and might help you make it through this. The rest of you can be the stealth team, unless one of you is feeling brave?"
"In case you hadn't noticed, Captain, I have hooves," Halvor said while sarcastically motioning to his feet. "Hooves aren't really the quietest when it comes to walking on rock, so I don't think I'll be able to sneak by a dragon."
Rhys stepped forward, sighing. "Must I do everything? So many Elves, so few mages... You would think this was a common bandit brigade, not a elite squadron of Crusaders.""I don't suppose the thought occurred to you that instead of staying behind and potentially getting crushed you could just go to the exit, go to wherever this skylight is, and collapse the hill on top of it like in the original plan?"
He whispered a spell, pointing a finger at Halvor.
"Sithé vurtræn."
A thick, ticklish black mist descended and engulfed the Nord's hooved feet. "There. Your steps should be silenced. Unless the rest of the party wants a similar spell to hide their movements, we ought to carry on with stealth. I shall take the rear, to collapse this beautiful architecture and destroy the dragon, once everyone is in a safe area. Any objections? Please keep them quiet, of course."
"I don't suppose the thought occurred to you that instead of staying behind and potentially getting crushed you could just go to the exit, go to wherever this skylight is, and collapse the hill on top of it like in the original plan?""And I don't suppose the thought occurred to you," growled Rhys, "that moving earth around on an Elven derelict as massive as this one could produce some unforeseen collapse, and therefore it would be safer if you all were much, much farther away from the one doing the combative magic."
"Nobles like you always have to do it your way, you know I have half a mind to-""I don't suppose the thought occurred to you that instead of staying behind and potentially getting crushed you could just go to the exit, go to wherever this skylight is, and collapse the hill on top of it like in the original plan?""And I don't suppose the thought occurred to you," growled Rhys, "that moving earth around on an Elven derelict as massive as this one could produce some unforeseen collapse, and therefore it would be safer if you all were much, much farther away from the one doing the combative magic."
He waved his hand in a mocking gesture of dismissal, and his tone became very sarcastic. "Perhaps this is an irrational product of my checkered history, sir, but I tend to err on the side of caution."
With the dragon on the ground and facing away from him, Halvor had no shot with his bow, and he wasn't going to wait around until he did. He rushed towards the back end of the dragon and got out his axe. With all of his might, he swung the axe at the backside of the dragon's left leg, hoping at least to cripple beast.The dragon swung its tail at the Nord, and swung its head around to spew more acidic spit at its attackers. The sound of its shrieks and its spitting gave some reaction from the unconscious body of the Knight-Captain.
The dragon swung its tail at the Nord, and swung its head around to spew more acidic spit at its attackers. The sound of its shrieks and its spitting gave some reaction from the unconscious body of the Knight-Captain.Mundzac was twisting and turning to avoid the beasts attacks, but managed to get out his bow and fire one shot in each of the creatures eyes, then saw the Captain waking up. "Welcome back to the land of the living sir." and fired another arrow in the direction of the beasts throat.
Evil creatures. Wicked things. Death is the only release for these abominations. No life within the vial or the tube, this we know...
The voices came again: more distinct, more focused. Then a lull, until finally they began to shout.
"RESTORE THE OLD, DESTROY THE NEW. CREATE THE FUTURE WE NEVER KNEW. THIS YOU KNOW..."
Nidesis began to awaken. The voices lifted as he entered lucidity. His sword was gone, his spear was gone. He had nothing. Nothing but the rusty thing sat next to him. He picked it up anyway, as there were no other weapons he could find. It was grey still, but didn't seem as dull so close. Carved into the blade were many ancient runes he could not recognize. The blade was longer than he was accustomed to, and the crossguard was not straight like any of the swords he'd wielded. It was curved upward, like the horns of a goat. One the pommel lay a stained red gem, unlike any he had ever seen.
Might be worth something after all, but now I need to make sure I can get out alive...
Mundzac rode, no signs of the previous night, (with the exceptions of some "marks" which he received from the fine village girl, whom he had woken up with underneath of one of the feast tables that morning) full of energy and not a bit of headache. Out of all of the men there, it wasn't unlikely that he was the one most "experienced" with such high volumes of drink in short periods of time. He rode up to his commander, "Well I had my doubts about this whole thing and that beast was one hell of a focker, but it seems like we actually did a bit of good, wouldn't you say?"Nidesis had been in a daze since he left, and Mundzac's words were like the squire ringing the morning bell: An annoying return to consciousness.
Rhys watched the young elf leave his sight, then turned back to the Grandmaster. He felt oddly infuriated.my phone keeps trying to correct "Nidesis" to "Nudes is". That is all.Nidesis had been in a daze since he left, and Mundzac's words were like the squire ringing the morning bell: An annoying return to consciousness.
"Hmm? Y-yes, of course! Saved the city from that vile beast. Not much worse for wear either, haha!"
He really had to force himself to laugh that time. Things just hadn't been the same since that battle. The voices, the visions, it all made him so uneasy...
He had to keep going though, and that he did with a kind of determination one gets when trying to shake off their problems. All the way back to Loklin he kept the same blank face and occasional response to conversation. He refused to disclose anything, though, for if there's anything the older commanders had taught him it was to never reveal weakness in front of the troops, even as his dream grew more vivid with every repeated viewing on every night spent on the road.
With any luck, it'll all go away at Loklin...
When arriving back at the fortress, Nidesis noticed his reception was not that of the usual disinterest, but with hushed whispers and looks of concern.
When went past the gatehouse into the castle courtyard he saw why.
Standing there was Zalbar, the craven Arch-Mage of Rendalis, and the senior members of the order, including the Grandmaster. He had a smug grin on his powdered face, making Nidesis all the more uneasy. The guards stepped up to his horse and told him to dismount immediately in a commanding tone. Reluctantly doing so, he approached the group with caution.
"What is the meaning of this? Why is he here?"
"That he is the legal ruler of Rendalis, boy! Something you clearly forgot on your little adventure." responded one of the greybeards in a mocking, patronizing tone.
"That's enough, Galbitrox. I shall handle this" replied the Grandmaster, "Nidesis, is it true that you disregarded Zalbar's motion to leave and encouraged his people to stay?"
"Yes, Grandmaster, I couldn't leave the city until I knew what had happened. Leaving such a matter unresolved would have been insane!"
"That was not your decision to make, Nidesis. Zalbar is the ultimate ruler of Rendalis and disregarding him is a very clear breach of your duties. The fact you did not attempt to contact us when making your decision to enter the sewers is another."
"There was no time, Grandmaster! And I needed all my men for the expedition! I couldn't afford to waste one on sending a message!"
"Enough, Nidesis! Do you understand what could have happened? What if you had failed? The citizens were not evacuated, they could have fallen to some evil power, or all been eaten by whatever lived down there! And who would have known about it until it was too late?"
"But I destroyed the corruption, sir! Rock dragons, deep in the sewers! We slew them both!"
"Regardless, I am obligated to enforce discipline in this order! I cannot allow you to simply continue this reckless behavior because you got lucky!"
"Fine, what will you do then, eh? Take away my commision like these haggard old men want? Go ahead then, do it! Push me to the wayside because some tower fop that can do a few parlor tricks wants it so!"
"No, Nidesis, you have not yet been found so reckless to be unfit for command...yet, unless it is you continue on this tirade."
"What?!" replied Galbitrox, flabberghasted he had not gotten what he wanted, "B-b-but sire! This boy is clearly unfit for-"
"What did I just say about belittlement?! Out, all of you! Zalbar, go back to your city provided your populace can still stand you. Go in the trust I will find a punishment for this Knight-Captain."
"W-why? I want to see that justice is done!"
"That is not your business, but that of the order. Go."
Strutting away like a crippled chicken with his hurt pride, the Arch-mage left in a hurry toward the inn at the other end of the bridge.
"As for you...I will find a punishment for you. In the mean time you and your charges are discharged from your mission. You will wait in your quarters until I summon you.
Disheartened and angry at the same time, Nidesis stormed off to his quarters in a huff, leaving behind his bewildered subordinates.
Looking to make sure the others were out of sight, the Grandmaster explained himself to Rhys,Rhys watched the young elf leave his sight, then turned back to the Grandmaster. He felt oddly infuriated.my phone keeps trying to correct "Nidesis" to "Nudes is". That is all.Nidesis had been in a daze since he left, and Mundzac's words were like the squire ringing the morning bell: An annoying return to consciousness.
"Hmm? Y-yes, of course! Saved the city from that vile beast. Not much worse for wear either, haha!"
He really had to force himself to laugh that time. Things just hadn't been the same since that battle. The voices, the visions, it all made him so uneasy...
He had to keep going though, and that he did with a kind of determination one gets when trying to shake off their problems. All the way back to Loklin he kept the same blank face and occasional response to conversation. He refused to disclose anything, though, for if there's anything the older commanders had taught him it was to never reveal weakness in front of the troops, even as his dream grew more vivid with every repeated viewing on every night spent on the road.
With any luck, it'll all go away at Loklin...
When arriving back at the fortress, Nidesis noticed his reception was not that of the usual disinterest, but with hushed whispers and looks of concern.
When went past the gatehouse into the castle courtyard he saw why.
Standing there was Zalbar, the craven Arch-Mage of Rendalis, and the senior members of the order, including the Grandmaster. He had a smug grin on his powdered face, making Nidesis all the more uneasy. The guards stepped up to his horse and told him to dismount immediately in a commanding tone. Reluctantly doing so, he approached the group with caution.
"What is the meaning of this? Why is he here?"
"That he is the legal ruler of Rendalis, boy! Something you clearly forgot on your little adventure." responded one of the greybeards in a mocking, patronizing tone.
"That's enough, Galbitrox. I shall handle this" replied the Grandmaster, "Nidesis, is it true that you disregarded Zalbar's motion to leave and encouraged his people to stay?"
"Yes, Grandmaster, I couldn't leave the city until I knew what had happened. Leaving such a matter unresolved would have been insane!"
"That was not your decision to make, Nidesis. Zalbar is the ultimate ruler of Rendalis and disregarding him is a very clear breach of your duties. The fact you did not attempt to contact us when making your decision to enter the sewers is another."
"There was no time, Grandmaster! And I needed all my men for the expedition! I couldn't afford to waste one on sending a message!"
"Enough, Nidesis! Do you understand what could have happened? What if you had failed? The citizens were not evacuated, they could have fallen to some evil power, or all been eaten by whatever lived down there! And who would have known about it until it was too late?"
"But I destroyed the corruption, sir! Rock dragons, deep in the sewers! We slew them both!"
"Regardless, I am obligated to enforce discipline in this order! I cannot allow you to simply continue this reckless behavior because you got lucky!"
"Fine, what will you do then, eh? Take away my commision like these haggard old men want? Go ahead then, do it! Push me to the wayside because some tower fop that can do a few parlor tricks wants it so!"
"No, Nidesis, you have not yet been found so reckless to be unfit for command...yet, unless it is you continue on this tirade."
"What?!" replied Galbitrox, flabberghasted he had not gotten what he wanted, "B-b-but sire! This boy is clearly unfit for-"
"What did I just say about belittlement?! Out, all of you! Zalbar, go back to your city provided your populace can still stand you. Go in the trust I will find a punishment for this Knight-Captain."
"W-why? I want to see that justice is done!"
"That is not your business, but that of the order. Go."
Strutting away like a crippled chicken with his hurt pride, the Arch-mage left in a hurry toward the inn at the other end of the bridge.
"As for you...I will find a punishment for you. In the mean time you and your charges are discharged from your mission. You will wait in your quarters until I summon you.
Disheartened and angry at the same time, Nidesis stormed off to his quarters in a huff, leaving behind his bewildered subordinates.
"Perhaps I am mistaken," he growled at the old man, "but our orders were to find out what was happening in the city and to correct it, were they not? Or am I wrong, and the oh-so-bloody-revered Griffin Knights have been rendered little more than a group of village watchmen?" His disgust was practically visible on his mask. Rhys clearly didn't fear any retribution.
As Rhys strolled on horseback into the city with the rest of his ridiculous little lance, he very seriously considered murdering Nidesis and vanishing into the rains. However, he calmed himself after a moment and decided to talk to his team as they stood in the threshold of the city walls.-snip-With three willing followers, Nidesis felt emboldened when the orders were finally given: They were to ride to Terris, de facto capital of the Aldors and the last tower city which was built into the ground. Rumors of a monstrous army living within the abandoned undercity had disturbed Loklin. Nidesis, however, questioned why a secret detachment was necessary. There was something he wasn't being told, he knew that much...
The roads were growing muddy and wet as the winter pressed on, amplifying with the chilly air to create a miserable situation indeed. While the feast at Rendalis had come during the harvest, now most of the fields were barren, with only the seedlings of the winter cereals germinating within the earth. City after city was passed, and the party only stopped at inns when they had to. Eventually, however, a great storm of freezing rain approached, which forced them off the road and into a neighboring city, a massive settlement known as Raxol, ruled by Archon Garrin Phixidor, the name of whom created a strange reaction in Rhys when uttered. The party lodged in a large tavern, and learned that the storm was expected to continue for several days. It became clear they could either wait out the storm in the city, or try to find an extremely powerful mage within the central tower who could clear it. The latter was easier said than done, however, as the mana required certainly wouldn't be expended out of charity...
"We can't just be stuck here!" Nidesis was hardly patient, even after all the days on the road ought to have curbed his enthusiasm. "Agh! So our options now are either to try and make it through the roads that have been turned near to liquid mud by all this rain or we can try to convince the people that don't even want us in their city to loan us priceless magical instruments and tomes."As Rhys strolled on horseback into the city with the rest of his ridiculous little lance, he very seriously considered murdering Nidesis and vanishing into the rains. However, he calmed himself after a moment and decided to talk to his team as they stood in the threshold of the city walls.-snip-With three willing followers, Nidesis felt emboldened when the orders were finally given: They were to ride to Terris, de facto capital of the Aldors and the last tower city which was built into the ground. Rumors of a monstrous army living within the abandoned undercity had disturbed Loklin. Nidesis, however, questioned why a secret detachment was necessary. There was something he wasn't being told, he knew that much...
The roads were growing muddy and wet as the winter pressed on, amplifying with the chilly air to create a miserable situation indeed. While the feast at Rendalis had come during the harvest, now most of the fields were barren, with only the seedlings of the winter cereals germinating within the earth. City after city was passed, and the party only stopped at inns when they had to. Eventually, however, a great storm of freezing rain approached, which forced them off the road and into a neighboring city, a massive settlement known as Raxol, ruled by Archon Garrin Phixidor, the name of whom created a strange reaction in Rhys when uttered. The party lodged in a large tavern, and learned that the storm was expected to continue for several days. It became clear they could either wait out the storm in the city, or try to find an extremely powerful mage within the central tower who could clear it. The latter was easier said than done, however, as the mana required certainly wouldn't be expended out of charity...
“I can not be seen in this city,” Rhys explained, his tone implying that it was due to a past crime of his, not intrigue. “We cannot speak to the Archon of this city or any other major mage. Asking them to lift the storm is not an option for us. Either we wait it out like humans, or I can try myself, with the proper magical tools and some tomes on meteorology...”
Mudnzac didn't much mind the rain, and neither did his steed, which was of sturdier stock than the fancy dress horses everyone else was riding. He recoiled when Rhys made his statement. "Oi! You got a problem with humans and how we deal with weather? We cant all be fancy mage lads eh?""It's a difficult task even for the most highborn of Elven mages, but we really don't have much choice. I'd much prefer not to wait here, especially now that it's been made clear our companion isn't exactly well liked by the authorities. The longer we linger the more questions will be asked about the band of armed men in the tavern outside the city walls, after all. If anyone has any better ideas I'd like to hear them."
"It's a difficult task even for the most highborn of Elven mages, but we really don't have much choice. I'd much prefer not to wait here, especially now that it's been made clear our companion isn't exactly well liked by the authorities. The longer we linger the more questions will be asked about the band of armed men in the tavern outside the city walls, after all. If anyone has any better ideas I'd like to hear them."
Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing."Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor. A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”-snip-Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing."Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor. A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."
"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”-snip-Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing."Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor. A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”
Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”
Rhys thought for a moment. “The sewers are enchanted to harm anyone who falls in, but I could probably cast wards that would shield us from the worst of it. There are public stations we can emerge from, or if you wanted to go straight for the Citadel we could do that as well.”-snip-"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”-snip-Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing."Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor. A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”
Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”
"Wait..." Nidesis spoke to Rhys, "If you're an outlaw in this city, you found a way to escape, yes? Tell me, whatever route you took...could we use it to get back in?"
With any luck, Rhys would know of a way to sneak in to the inner ring, and from there they could steal the required materials to clear the storm, or even teleport closer to their destination.
"Let's go straight there. The whole point is to get inside the central tower where the Archmage's personal laboratory ought to be. We can use that to clear a storm or, if we're lucky, we might find the materials for a portal straight to Terris. Come on men, let's move!"Rhys thought for a moment. “The sewers are enchanted to harm anyone who falls in, but I could probably cast wards that would shield us from the worst of it. There are public stations we can emerge from, or if you wanted to go straight for the Citadel we could do that as well.”-snip-"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”-snip-Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing."Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor. A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”
Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”
"Wait..." Nidesis spoke to Rhys, "If you're an outlaw in this city, you found a way to escape, yes? Tell me, whatever route you took...could we use it to get back in?"
With any luck, Rhys would know of a way to sneak in to the inner ring, and from there they could steal the required materials to clear the storm, or even teleport closer to their destination.
Mundzac raised a question, typical that he was the only one that thought of it. "Oi, where are we plannin on leavin our horses? Or am I the only one that cares about the beautiful creatures?" He asked with concern, for the first time most of those here would actually notice concern for anything"We shouldn't be too long. I thought we could leave them hitched in front of the inn. Though I suppose we ought to spend the money we were given on something."
"We shouldn't be too long. I thought we could leave them hitched in front of the inn. Though I suppose we ought to spend the money we were given on something.""Aye" Mundzac said and headed off to do just that.
Reaching into the purse tied to his belt, Nidesis pulled out a silver coin bearing the visage of a frowning old Archmage from ages past.
"Tell you what, Mundzac, give this to the innkeeper so we can hitch them in his stable. We'll meet you at the entrance to the sewer just left of the gate when you're done."