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| Destination Unknown; [p] Silias | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Apr 29, 2010 4:49 am (141 Views) | |
| Zephyr | Thu Apr 29, 2010 4:49 am Post #1 |
 
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Zephyr stood in silent admiration of the woodlands surrounding him. He had been to Norwood before, but he didn't know it now. He had never been to this part of the wood, and if he had, he would likely not have recognized it. The forest was vast, and each acre was nearly indiscernible from the last. At a glance, he doubted he'd recognize the woods if had he lived there his whole life. It was expansive and its foliage was seemingly uniform. Every new tree seemed identical to the last; every new bush bore the same fruit as the last. The forest floor was a vibrant sea of patches of sunlight and shade from the leafy canopy above, carpeted with thick soft moss, and the whole environment smelled of damp earth and dewdrops. It was clear that it was spring. Tendrils of thin mist snaked around Zephyr's feet as he waited for further instruction. He and Silias had come to Norwood in search of clues as to the identity of a group of wily druids. Zephyr was not much of a fighter, nor an investigator, but he was never one to pass down an adventure, or a chance to grow and mature intellectually, so he had offered to tag along with his new elf friend. He figured that there would be advantages to having a partner with working legs along with Silias, anyway, and he had grown close to the boy, despite himself, since the previous night. Sighing, and taking a deep breath of the damp air of a cool spring morning, Zephyr looked down at his companion. "I'm worthless at tracking. Where are we going?" |
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| Silias | Thu Apr 29, 2010 5:07 am Post #2 |
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Silias frowned. He had no idea where they were going, he just knew that the druids had a large shelter, and that it was easy to spot. He would not tell Zeph this, the kid was fragile. "Uhm..." he thought for a moment, then looked to Louis. "Louis knows. We will just follow him." Silias silently thanked the gods for his luck having a dog of some kind with him. Louis began to sniff the ground, hunting for any scent, soon they came to a clearing, large and grassy. Silias took a deep, long breath of the damp air. He cast a gaze around the circle of trees, and was slightly confused. He saw shapes, irregular and a darker shade of green than the rest of the growth. He turned to Zephyr, and made a drawing motion with his hand, and drew his own blade a moment later. He hopped off his board, and silently loped over to one of the mounds. It looked strange, like...like someone curled up. As Silias realized that it was someone curled up, the figure unfurled itself with a cry, and held Silias in a tight hold. He blew some powder into his face, and he quickly fell alseep. |
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| Zephyr | Thu Apr 29, 2010 5:31 am Post #3 |
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Zephyr was hesitant to draw. He may have carried an impressive blade with him, but he had never used it in his life, and he had hoped he wouldn't have to. The weapon didn't even belong to him. He had stolen it as means of primitive protection, but he never imagined he would be faced with the opportunity to truly wield the weapon. He hoped that at least an attacker would back down at seeing him armed, that maybe the sight of a weapon might intimidate an aggressor. Clearly, it wouldn't be the case here. He drew the sword from its scabbard at his hip and weighed it in his right hand. It felt heavy and awkward, as if he were holding a pen in his left hand, and it required a great amount of focus to hold it steady without the aid of his left hand. Determined not to show his inexperience to Silias, he simply held the blade as if it were native to his palm, and slunk along behind Silias, praying he wouldn't have to raise the sword against an opponent. His slinking was more like wobbling, as it was difficult to accommodate stealthy movement armed with the foreign object. Teetering along, trying to stabilize his equilibrium to account for the awkward weapon, he nearly stumbled backwards when a figure unleashed itself from its hiding place beneath the underbrush with a fierce roar. Quickly, Zephyr's astonishment became a defensive stance, and he called out to the stranger in a wordless threat. His sword was held out, tip forward, pointing directly at the assailant, and it shook violently, matching the movements of his right arm, weighed down by the heavy object, and his wobbling knees, weighed down by fear. |
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| Silias | Thu Apr 29, 2010 5:44 am Post #4 |
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The Druid rose from his crouch, tossing the elf child's sleeping body to another, now standing druid- one of thirteen surrounding the clearing. He glared at the second boy, quivering with fear. The druid sighed, and scratched his green painted body. He cleared his throat and spoke is a whispery voice, "You leave now. You are no needed. We only need Moon Child." the druid nodded, his eyes growing dark. The other druids chuckled quietly, and began to leave. The lead druid barked something in a strange language, and they all stopped. He turned back to the boy, and got extremely close to him, letting the tip of the blade pierce his flesh slightly as he bent close to the boy. Blood began to trickle down his green stained skin, making it dark brown like bark and wet earth. "If you follow, you die." he said simply, smiling a wide grin revealing bright white teeth, filed down to points. He stepped back, and barked another order, the other druids seemed to fade into the growth, and the lead druid too stepped back, fading into the trees. He sprinted back toward the rest of the group, which was headed toward their barrow fortress, The Great Hill. |
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| Tazdril[Mod] | Thu Apr 29, 2010 6:00 am Post #5 |
 
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Zephyr stood in paralysis as the encounter with the druids unfolded. As the twisted Child of Nature came so close to him that his blade literally cut into his body, Zephyr realized that he could have gutted the masochistic druid as its fel blood ran down his blade and dripped to the mossy floor of the forest. It said nothing, but cruel whispers escaped its body, and, staring into its golden eyes, he felt madness wrap itself around the borders of his mind, a thin layer of panic and doubt. There was something horribly wrong here. There was something going on in these woods that no mortal was meant to lay eyes upon, and that's what kept him in place. It's what kept him sane. It's what kept him from blacking out, or from vomiting on the spot. As the druids left, towards a great hill in the distance, Zephyr wanted to scream, wanted to run away, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't abandon his friend. He couldn't abandon the truth. He had to rescue Silias, and he had to discover what vileness was going on in Norwood Forest. A whisper, like a breeze, ran through his mind, but the words were inaudible, and Zephyr chose to ignore them, anyway. He shuddered and sheathed his blade, wiping off the deep crimson blood onto the green moss beneath him. Upon contact, the moss shriveled back, and discolored to a dark gray, exposing the brown earth beneath. Zephyr shuddered again. Something was definitely wrong. ((OOC: Wrong account... oh well...) |
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| Silias | Fri Apr 30, 2010 12:40 am Post #6 |
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Silias woke, head clouded with sleep, in a dark cell. Iron bars held him in, and iron chains held him to a wall by his waist. He shook his head, and frowned. "A waist chain? Really?" he asked quietly. He chuckled and slipped out of the iron ring easily. This was one of the moments where he did not mind having no legs. He sighed, the bars were too close together, he would no be able to squeeze through. He tested the long metal rods, attemping to bend them, to no avvail. He groaned, and fell back into a heap of straw. He still had his board...and his knife. He smiled slowly, and began to try and formulate a plan. |
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| Zephyr | Sat May 1, 2010 8:03 pm Post #7 |
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Zephyr was presented with two choices: He could travel to the Kellen Village, a venture of several hours, to rally aid, or he could waste no time and begin his journey up the knoll and into the druids' hideaway. He knew that the safer of the two was the latter, but it was problematic in that Silias could be dead by the time he returned, and because there was no reason for the villagers of Kellen to help or even to believe him. Unless personal harm was evident to the people, they would likely ignore the possible threat of the savage druids. Abandoning his own safety, Zephyr decided the latter, and he began his first of many quests to come. Taking a deep breath and shaking away his nerves, he began towards the distant hill, keeping his right hand close to the hilt of the blade sheathed at his hip, still fearing the chance he'd have to wield it. It didn't matter. He had to save Silias. |
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| Will Fisher | Sun May 2, 2010 5:13 am Post #8 |
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Silias frowned. In order for his plan to work there needed to be a... "Guard." he whispered to himself. He saw one, a bare chested, green man, hair hanging in greasy scraggles at the sides. Silias spun the knife in his hand, and waited. The guard would pay no attention to him, until it was too late. As the guard passed, the small elf boy slammed his blade into the man's right knee, then hopped back into the dark rear of the cell. The guard smiled, almost happily, and stepped into the cell, locking it behind him with a large, brass key. Silas smiled, and spun his knife again, and began to laugh slightly. This would be over quickly. ((Wrong account. Opps! D:)) |
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| Zephyr | Sun May 2, 2010 7:04 am Post #9 |
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En guarde. Zephyr's blade was drawn, and his opposition was unarmed. Easy? Hardly. He struggled under the weight of the unfamiliar weapon, but he knew how to swing it. Sure, it was with no skill or finesse, but damn, if he made a hit, easy dismemberment. His swings lacked control, as he threw the full force of his weight into them, which was detrimental to his balance. This could have been his downfall. Luckily, his adversary was untrained in swordplay, and focused on staying far away from the seething blade. His adversary happened to be a druid. He was tall, tall enough to be intimidating to most. He matched Zephyr's height easily, and perhaps was an inch or two taller. His lack of arms let Zephyr believe, however, that the advantage was his. The druid was nearly naked, wearing a loincloth and a choker. He was painted green entirely, and his golden eyes burned with a feral hatred. His dark hair had a green tinge to it, as if it had been dyed, and his face was smeared with white and green war paint. His fingers seemed long and gnarled, with thick, pointed talons for fingernails. They were poorly groomed. His feet were the marvel of his appearance, however, as they distinguished him as inhuman. His two feet were cloven, like those of a goat, and his ankles were rimmed with a thick line of fur that wrapped itself completely around, marking the border between flesh and hoof. The accommodate for the hooves, the bipedal druid had inverted knees, shaped like those of the animal emulated by his cleft feet. The druid danced far out of the reach of Zephyr's blade, careful to distance himself. He knew that one of those vicious swats would be crippling. Still, he found it difficult to keep up, and while Zephyr's thin arms tired, so did the druid's body. His dodges slowed with Zephyr's attacks. His heart rate increased with Zephyr's. The druid knew that, no matter how tired he was from dancing, that without Zephyr's strong sword arm in the picture, he could easily overpower the elf boy. When he saw his opportunity, he seized it. Zephyr's final lash, however, was not quite what the druid had hoped for. Sensing his strength failing, knowing he could wield the heavy blade no more, Zephyr did what any novice swordsman would do in the situation. He let go mid swing. Like a bladed Frisbee, the sword spun from his grasp, directly at the charging druid, who realized mid step that he had miscalculated fatally. The blade collided with him, its cutting edge barreling into his stomach. It wasn't an efficient attack, of course, but it did the trick. The weight behind the flung sword knocked the druid backwards, and the cutting edge managed to draw blood from his midsection. Deep purple blood oozed from the wound. It wasn't fatal, but it was enough to keep the druid on the ground. Or, it wouldn't have been fatal. The druid let out a yelp of triumph, perplexing Zephyr, before reeling to his knees. Greenish hair was flung before his contorted face, and he looked up, staring at the boy with his wild, golden eyes. He said no words, but his actions spoke for him. His eyes twinkling, as if they were brimming with tears of joy, his mouth curled into a sickening grin. His yellow teeth were clenched and his painted cheeks bulged. His face distracted Zephyr enough that he nearly doubled over when he sensed movement below. The first thing he became aware of was that the blood flow on the druid's abdomen had significantly increased, although the second was easily the most shocking. The druid's hand was gone. It had disappeared inside the tiny bleeding slit in his torso and transformed it into a gaping hole. Fresh blood drooled down his muscular stomach, and his arm was dyed red halfway to the elbow. Still, the druid wavered not. His strength seemed unending. Could he not be bled to death? The next was a scene of horror, something Zephyr might have considered nightmares of a madman. With a squeal of ecstasy, the druid wrenched his hand free of his stomach, and thrust it out towards Zephyr. He held in his outstretched hand a mass of fleshy rope, coiled and tangled around his hand and wrist and leading back inside his body. The druid's smile never faltered, and his eyes remained fixed as they glazed over and slowly, his corpse collapsed. It was dead, but its wild eyes remained brilliant and golden as they had been in life. Zephyr shuddered, retrieving his lost blade, and driving it through the druid's skull. The splintering of bone could be heard, but it quickly gave way to the squelching of pierced brain matter. Another shudder. He withdrew the blade, convinced that the demon was truly slain, and tried to clean off the blood and gray mush that coated its tip and edges. Another shudder. The blade was sheathed, and Zephyr continued his march. ((OOC: I had a looot of fun with this post :3 )) |
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| Will Fisher | Thu May 6, 2010 8:24 pm Post #10 |
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Silias slid out of the cell, knife sheathed. The druid lay in the cell, bleeding and dead. Inbetween his teeth was the rind of keys, his hand occupied with propelling him and his board down the hall. He did not want to be anywhere near that body, with its burning blood and rapidly decomposing flesh. He shuddered, and moved faster, moving toward the sound of drums. He intended to get a quick peak of what was going on, and then try to find Zeph, hopefully he had not been taken too. ((Wrong account, and sorry for it being so short and you having to wait! D:)) |
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11:22 PM Feb 9
