Adventure Company - Fantasy

[DormantEvil]

((Soppy story alert!))


Name: Constance Rion
Role: Hunter
Age: 25

Location: Camp - Night 1

Admiring his ability to skip a stone with little effort, Constance continued to pick up stones and skip them. This time she managed to almost best his, but it had dug in just a little early. Trying again, she got it to go one further and smiled. Practice makes perfect. Walking on slowly, it looked as though they had moved about one third the way around the pond.

"It sounds like a stressful life, knowing you have to live a way others see fit. But if you would have chosen this anyway, then be thankful for your skills to be so in tune with the needs of your people. My story is much less exciting."

Finding a log to sit on, she brought her knees up and rested her arms on them. Looking out at the ripples in the water with calmness in her eyes.

"My family were very poor. And I had many siblings. My four brothers all suffered from a condition that caused muscle fatigue and bone defects. Most died before they reached their teenage years, and only the very youngest still lives today. Bed ridden for life. My sisters were normal and supported the family through hard work on the farm. One was killed by a bear whilst collecting firewood one day, my youngest sister was with her at the time. She never spoke another word after that. She is sixteen now, and unable to be married off due to it. So there are just my parents, myself, my invalid brother and one sister left. Five out of what should have been ten."

Looking up at him, she gave a small smile. This was not saddening for her to talk about anymore. She had a lot of time to get over it and move on.

"My hunting skills were born out of my fathers love of the hunt, and I would go along with him each day. Leaving in the morning before the sun rose, and returning late after the sun had went to bed. What sleep we got was often interrupted. When I was sixteen, a man arrived on our doorstep looking my eldest sister. She was out. Yet I was there. I wasn't a ladylike girl, nor refined in the ways of looking after a house or children...but I was pretty enough it seemed. The offer was three hundred gold pieces for a year of service, it was accepted."

Standing up, she shrugged off what seemed to be a bad memory and instead looked at the practical side of it.

"I made the decision to go with him, and those three hundred coins got my family through a very harsh winter. After my service period was over I returned to find the house burnt out. It seemed my sister had refused his marriage proposal, and they had been visited later to repay the 'betrayal'. It dawned on me then why my service was not enough to avoid the lashes. I lived on the farm in one of the still standing barns for years after that. I suppose that's why I enjoy the quiet and being alone so much these days. And unlike your natural skills it seems, it was just pure luck and lots of trial and error that helped me survive."

Laughing to herself she picked up another stone and tossed it out over the water.

"I don't feel anything about those days much anymore, and in an odd way thank them. I wouldn't be alive today without those trials."


((I apologize if I've made up a different back story to something I've already written down. I forgot.))

 

[LeoHawk35]

Name: Zerathul Duskfang
Role: Ranger
Age: 27
Location: Camp - Night 1

Zerathul watched her stone skip once more than his had. He didn't try to best her. It wasn't really a competition for him. He was sure it wasn't one for her, either. Just a means to pass the time. He followed her as she continued walking. She sat on a log and looked out to the water with calm eyes. He remained standing as he watched the water with her, eyes indescipherable as usual. He listened to her tell her story.

He glanced down at her when she looked up to him. He could feel a new respect for the woman as she talked about her life. A harsh man. He watched her stand and toss another stone at the water. His hand twitched towards her, but he steadied it. Calm down. he thought to himself.

"We must all face trials in our lives. The way I see it? If it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger." he said, his voice lowering further as memories flooded into him.

He turned his eyes to hers for a brief moment before looking back to the water.

 

[DormantEvil]

Name: Constance Rion
Role: Hunter
Age: 25

Location: Camp - Night 1

Most people would have turned to her and begun consoling her, or telling her how strong she had been. It was obvious that his man did not share the lazy, simple and 'innocent' lives that all those other people did. He understood that life was hard. Pain was unavoidable. And seemed to know that many people die if they don't continue fighting even after everything else seemed lost. Crossing her arms she smiled to herself in amusement.

"My exact sentiments."

A few seconds passed and another stone splashed into the water. Looking out at the ripples she stood up and turned to face Zerathul. Looking at him for a few moments before smiling softly.

"Behind those eyes I can tell you and I share dark histories, not the same one, but troublesome painful times. I won't pry, it's not my place. But I do enjoy your company. And I'll be forward with you, I hope you'll ride closer with me...tomorrow when we leave camp."

Heading a few steps back towards the wagons, she paused. Turning back to smile. "I enjoy the quiet conversation."

 

[LeoHawk35]

Name: Zerathul Duskfang
Role: Ranger
Age: 27

Zerathul glanced over at her, and nodded briefly. It was unfortunate, but then again, what wasn't? He turned to her after her request.

"Of course." he pressed his right fist over his left shoulder and bowed slightly, which was really more of a nod.

Very few had actually looked into his eyes. He watched her walk away out of the corner of his eye, back to the wagons. He also enjoyed the quiet conversation, suprisingly. He did as he said he would, and stayed at the waterside. He looked to the moon on the water, and thought of his past.

Around an hour or so later he stood and slowly walked back to the wagons. Abelard snickered a greeting. Zerathul patted the horse's neck and moved to stand just outside the light of the fire, eyes scanning around. He sighed internally.

 

[Mantra]

["Authorized Event"]

OOC: Character approved by Dormant Evil

Name: Druz Bonebasher
Role: Orcish WarSinger (battle priest)
Age: 23
Location: Camp - Night 1

He wasn't very tall, not by human standards, and he wasn't handsome either, especially by human standards. His skin was deep green which seemed oddly fitting given his broad, boxy stature. Even his head and jaw was thick and broad, with an upward jutting tusk at each corner of his lips. Two thin braids of course, black hair dangled astride his chin and the hair on his head was equally course, but short cropped and crudely cut. His ears were large and flat against his head, with three gold rings adorning each lobe and one matching ring piercing his wide nose.

He was wearing heavy leather with metal rings and studs sewn into it. A wide and thick belt fastened around his midsection and heavy, metal-shod boots covered his feet. A fur cloak hung off his shoulders with a fox head looping over each shoulder, so the teeth bit down into the cloth like a clamp to keep the fur in place. In each hand the orc held high a heavy, spiked mace. The mace seemed frozen in time for a second; a herald of destiny, of status, of strength raised high overhead. Then time resumed and the mace came down in a massive swing, smashing down and crushing the brown bear’s skull in a devastating blow.

The Orc had dragged the bear carcass back to his meager campsite and with his long knife, had cut several chunks for bear meat free and set them to roast on a makeshift spit hanging over a campfire. As the meat sizzled, Druz worked to skin the beast, considering the skin might prove useful in the near future. As the orc worked a huge wolf watched from where he lay at the edge of the clearing. The wolf was indeed larger than most of his kind, nearly 12 hands at the shoulder. He was also nearly all black, with mottled clumps of gray mixed into his coloring. More than that were the eyes and fangs; The fangs jutted out, elongated than a normal wolf’s might have been. His eyes were yellow, but also shot through with streaks of red. Fact was this was not a wolf at all, but a massive worg.

The worg’s pink tongue flicked out every now and then as the meat cooked. Druz almost absently tossed a chunk of nearly raw bear meat towards it and the worg, FurFang by name, snapped it out of the air, then returned to eying the spitted meat intently. Worgs were clever, but nearly feral and only the bravest orcs were able to harness the Spirits necessary to attract and bind a worg spirit to their own spirit and become WolfRiders as Druz himself had done. Young nobs who were able to claim a worg were generally considered destined for war and glory. Druz had journeyed on his Spirit Walk and attracted a Worg Alpha to him. After a three day showdown, he had managed to bind the Alpha, whom he named Furfang, to his spirit. It was considered a great omen when Druz had ridden back to his home tribe atop Furfang. That was then of course and now Druz and Furfang were out on their own in the wilderness, seeking fortunes and glory.

 

[DormantEvil]

((Time skip till morning - to keep this going.))

Name: Constance Rion
Role: Hunter
Age: 25

Location: Camp - Night 1

They feasted once the meats, bread and the root vegetables that had been brought in the wagons had finished roasting. Everyone getting their fill. The other hunters returned, having found tracks that led to a small camp. The group had discussed what to do about this, and decided that at first light they would send a party to investigate. Until then, everyone happily went about their own business before sleeping. Or doing whatever they wanted to be doing. The camp set watches all night.

Constance made herself comfortable sleeping on her bedroll facing away from the fire. Before falling asleep, she glanced over to see Zerathul standing away from the others like his antisocial self. She had to admit, he intrigued her and made her curious. But they would be riding together for several weeks, she aimed on breaking through that tough exterior and seeing what sort of man he was inside.

As the sun began to rise behind the mountain, most of the people who lived off the land rose automatically. Some well before the others. But luckily the last watch had stoked up the fires nicely, keeping enough flame to boil kettles and make hot drinks to warm their chilled bones.

During the night the temperature had dropped rather sharply, the horses had moved around to keep themselves warm. Those people who slept close to each other had instinctively huddled slightly closer. There were some tempers in the morning when some of the women woke up a little to close for comfort with slightly inebriated men who had wriggled closer during the night.

Constance like many was used to the chill, but even she felt it in her joints. And took a few minutes of moving her legs and arms under the thick fur she wore over her. Eventually she kicked it off and packed up her camp, fed her horses and took them down to water. Wanting their stomach to be well rested after breakfast before they rode off. She poked at the fire with a stick, turning over the coals and brought out some of the meat and left overs from the night. Tucking into them to settle her own stomach.

They were going to investigate the small camp about six miles away. It would take them several good hours to get there and be back through the forest.

 

[DormantEvil]

((Double post!))

Name: Constance Rion
Role: Hunter
Age: 25

Location: Camp - Night 1

The camp stirred once the crackling of the fire roused them from their sleep. The flames jumping up to warm them as several of the already awake team members tossed sticks and grass onto the red coals. They ignited with minimal effort. Soon the kettles were boiling, and infusions to awaken the senses were offered around the camp.

Constance enjoyed a hot mug of Rettleberry Tea, as it had a rather strong fruity taste. And since they didn't seem to have any in the wagons she has quickly picked it from the forest. It was naturally abundant in these parts.

By the time the sun had broken out from behind the clouds that lingered on the horizon the entire camp was packed up. They would continue on towards the north, whilst the investigation party took off to check out the unknown camp.

And as the two groups parted ways, Constance bidded the other group good luck. And instead trotted up the line of her party until she pulled up beside Zerathul.

"Did the camp keep you awake last night?" she began before a smile spread across her face. "Oh, I remember, the cold must have clouded my memory. I have the enjoyment of your probably silence for the rest of trip."

Staying quiet for a few moments she turned to him, "Does not matter, I suppose I can talk enough for the both of us."

 

[LeoHawk35]

((I would have posted earlier, but I figured it was someone else's turn. I'll start posting whenever it makes sense for me to.))

Name: Zerathul Duskfang
Role: Ranger
Age: 27
Location: Camp - Night 1

Zerathul woke in the morning well before the others. He had a brief breakfast on the fire he coaxed back to burning and drank from his wineskin filled with water. It was icy cold and had the clear taste he always enjoyed. He paused at the pond he and Constance had talked at last night and splashed the cold water on his face. He dried himself off and went back to the camp. A few had started waking by now and were getting the remainder of the fires going.

The camp packed up and were ready to go by sunrise. Zerathul mounted up and rode along the left side of the column, just off from the others, as was his norm. Constance rode up next to him. As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed her company.

"Yes, I'm sure you could." he responded to her last statement.

 

[DormantEvil]

((That's okay, I figured you were the most likely to be RPing at the moment. Since it appears we have lost the others. For now I figure we could just continue on in our spare time.))

 

[DeathsKnight]

Benjamin Grimstom

Name: Benjamin Grimstom
Role: Church Knight
Age: 28

Location: Trail to unknown camp

He had gotten up as the first stirrings started in the camp, the pond was icy cold, but the discomfort was nothing worse than anything he had endured before and he bathed in it. Slightly out of breath from the cold and with goosebumps all over his body Benjamin got out and dried himself, before pulling on his clothes. By the time he made it to the camp site he noticed that some people was up and that the fires were being stoked into action to boil water. He picked up his cold armor and shuddered at the thought of having to put it on, but put it on he did. He shook himself and gathered his belongings, shortly afterward his horse and mule was saddled and packed. By now he was numb, the chill air that had cooled the metal, still plagued him and his body could not heat up fast enough. He grinned as he thought about how novices sound like coins shook together when they donned their cold armor.

"Tea sir knight?"

Benjamin turned his head at the request and found one of the cooks offering a steaming cup of tea. Benjamin smiled at the man and thanked him, taking the tea and sipping slowly, allowing the warm fluid to spread the heat through his body. Shortly he felt much better and he finished the tea, he walked over and handed the mug to the cook, the cook gave him a crooked grin.

"I spent enough time on the trials to know that early mornin' is not good for a knight in metal armor"

Ben grinned at him

"For that I am thankful"

The cook nodded and turned his attention to his work, shortly afterward Benjamin had mounted his horse and when a small group of hunters headed down a trail that according to the rest of the group led to an unknown, but inhabited camp, he handed the rope of his mule to one of the company and then he followed the hunters down the track they followed.

 

[Mantra]

Name: Druz Bonebasher
Role: Orcish WarSinger (battle priest)
Age: 23
Location: Personal Camp - Next Morning

Druz yawned a great, jaw-popping yawn. The aroma of his fires were heavy in the air, both with the cooking meat and the rending and boiling of bear fat in his only pot. True, the drifting smell of his labor and the time he spent in one place concerned him slightly, but the bear carcas poised too great of an opportunity to just leave. The meat was enough to sustain both he and FurFang for days in the wilderness, not to mention the possible use for both the bear skin and boiled down bear fat. Of course, he had had to saw the ruined head off of the beast but even then, the skin was plenty larhe enough and well furred, It might even be enough to make a one-orc tent if he could find the time to cure and stretch the skin properly.

Of course, this all took time; time Druz didn't want to spend, but necessity demanded. Even now another lump of bear meat hung roasting on a spit made of a skewering branch suspended above two leg bones recently harvested from his kill. The fat too was nearly liquified and Druz had fashioned a suitable sack, made from the bear's stomach and sewn with bone splinters and sinew to carry the new-formed grease. As he waited for the meat and fat, Druz set down his skinning knife and held up his latest tinkering project; one set of long claws hung on a strip of leather, flanked by the bear's eye-tooth fangs. Druz smiled as he tied a rough knot in the leather, binding the trophies in place. Who knew, maybe he might even be able to trade some of this stuff, if there was no prospect for loot of course.

Time would tell.

 

[DormantEvil]

Name: Constance Rion
Role: Hunter
Age: 25

Location: Trail to Unknown Camp

They had been moving towards the camp for several hours, letting their horses warm up thoroughly before they pushed them harder.

"The hunter who talked about this camp said he wasn't sure who made it. I'm guessing its just someone out hunting. But they said it appeared foreign. I'm not sure how though."

They came upon the smell of smoke and cooking meat. Dismounting they moved forward to get a better look. That is when they saw the Orc. There had been stories of this type of creature, but none had ever traveled to this part of the land.

How would they approach it?

Was it aggressive? Powerful?

They watched it for a short while before deciding to simply ride into the camp. To talk. At least until it made a move of aggression. There were plenty of them, against it.

However the plan would have gone better if the Orc's 'pet' hadn't let out a low growl. Picking up their scent or words on the wind.

Moving back to their horses quickly, they rode into the camp. Keeping to a walk. And when they arrived they pulled up in a semicircle.

 

[AngelLightheart]

((Ehh, I'm going to assume I was accepted because my character is displayed with the others. I didn't get a confirmation from Dormant, though...))

Name: Angel Silverhair
Role: Bard
Age: 21

Location: Unknown Camp

Angel stayed quiet for the most part. Her eyes reflecting some past sadness. She had often appeared distant, and sad at times. Normally she would have played her mandola to lighten the mood, but she was in a sad mood herself, and she would only make things worse. Hopefully she would be cheered up enough later to play.

She was with the group heading to the enemy camp, and she didn't know anybody. She had stuck to herself during the entire trip and slept with just her horse. She would have liked some company, but that wasn't possible right now. Then again, anything would be better than the sadness that consumed her. Well, maybe not anything.

As they entered the camp she found herself nudging her horse closer to that of a large, armored knight who seemed capable of handling herself. She had already picked out several figures of interest. The knight being one of them, as he seemed to be able to handle himself. Another was a cloaked and hooded man. He was silent and seemed dangerous, more so than even the large and armored knight. The third was the hunter that seemed unerred by the cloaked one's appearance and effect he had on others. She wondered at it.

The green orbs of her eyes sought out those of the knight.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Benjamin Grimstom

Name: Benjamin Grimstom
Role: Church Knight
Age: 28

Location: Unknown Camp

At first he was surprised that up until now stranger had came with them, but when she looked at him as they faced the orc he tried to look reassuring and then nudged his horse forward. He raised both hands to show that he intended no harm

"Greetings Warsinger, we come in peace. We were merely curious as to whom this camp belonged to and we have came to look"

He had noticed the talismans marking this Orc as a Priest, which in a way commanded respect as not just any Orc could become a Priest. He lowered his hands and rested them on the pommel of his saddle.

"What brings you so far from the Kinlands honored one?"

 

[Mantra]

Name: Druz Bonebasher
Role: Orcish WarSinger
Age:23
Location: Personal Camp

Druz bent over and spat a gob of flem into the fire where it hissed momentarilly in the embers. Damn bear smell had overpowered everything else in the forest to him and he longed to be done and go. Soon, maybe an hour or so left and he could move on....if that were possible.

Druz's sense of smell was not particuarilly keen and especially not with the heavy scent of hours of fire and roasting, but FurFang, that was another matter. So when the great Worg turned away from the roasting meat and growled towards the forest, Druz's own attention perked up as well. He stood silent for long seconds, reaching out will all of his own senses while being keenly aware of FurFang as well. Then he heard it, a soft knicker and the crack of a twig that was not from the fire....

Springing up, Druz swept off the foxhead cloak, letting it fall to the ground while instead slapping his heavy belt around his midsection. His training told him to flee from the exposed camp and counterattack from the cover of the trees, but somewhere in the back of his brain, something told him to stand fast. Druz had long ago given in to trusting the Spirits and the natural ferocity and blood-lust which had called him to be a Singer of War and Rider of Wolves among his people. So Druz turned towards he suspected these intruders were approaching from and hefted his twin maces, Smash'em and Bash'em, ready to fight, ready to kill, ready to call down the might of the WAGGH upon them!

There were four of them, all on their tall mount animals and each of them a long-limbed Humie, dressed for battle and approached, bold as brass, intruding themselves into his very camp..... FurFang slunk backwards, but not from fear, but to gain room shold he need to spring. Snarling and sputtering, Furfang gralred at the humies with his reddened eyes and showing yellowed, six-inch canine fangs. Druz too, growled at them, bearing his own tusks.

..but they didn't attack.

"Greetings Warsinger, we come in peace. We were merely curious as to whom this camp belonged to and we have came to look. What brings you so far from the Kinlands honored one?"

The words came from one of the Humies; a big, shiny, metal one.

Druz hesitated, letting the humie words roll around in his head for awhile before answering.

"Uh, diz camp be me! An me be Druz!" he finally called out, although he did not lower his fighting posture.

The orc's words and speech were choppy, crude and poorly spoken. Druz knew the Humie language...mostly, but it was a flowery, silly language; full of overly complicated and big words. Not short and to the point like the great, strong words of Orcish.
Besides that, Druz's heavy and square jaw just didn't conform to making the pretty, Humie words that babbled from their delicate and shaped jaws. (Probably why Humie jaws broke so damn easilly anyway)

"Why yoo here?" he challenged. "Druz goes where Druz wants, but Druz no want to beat up Humies today. Not unless Humies gots lots O gold." he let out a rough 'Ruk Ruk' sound as he chuckled at his own joke, then he cocked one eyebrow at the shiny, metal man and offered a lopsided smirk.

"So yoo gots lots O gold?"

 

[DeathsKnight]

Benjamin Grimstom

Name: Benjamin Grimstom
Role: Church Knight
Age: 28

Location: Unknown Camp

He grinned and replied in Orcish, a language few humans studied and one even fewer mastered

>>We travel to North Mountains. We no have lots of gold. But we want to gain lots. You travel with us, we can share gold? No bloodshed then?<<

He just hope he remembered the words correctly, he didn't want to infuriate the orc or the worg with him. Some people would not think a church knight to know much about orcs. But they did not kill every orc they encountered, they learned from those who did not try to kill them on sight.

 

[TimberRattler]

Name: Nikolai Von Tartakov
Age: 35
Role: Mercenary/Soldier

Location: The trail Day 2

Nikolai elected to stay with the main body. Not that he was afraid, but the group sent to investigate the unknown camp already had several capable people. Including the knight whose mule Nikolai was now guiding down the trail. Grisha was still in no shape to be ridden and the party marched at a very slow pace to allow the others to catch back up, so he didn't really mind looking after the mule. Besides he was glad of the extra company since none of the other travellers seemed to want anything to do with him. He couldn't understand why when the prospect of riches was in the air did these people all act as if they were marching to their doom. Nikolai looked around the group. It was good he'd decided to stay with the main body. It seemed all the real talent had gone to scout that camp. If the main body ran into trouble, then he figured he could keep things under control until the others arrived.