Zsombor glanced the newcomer's way passively as the shadow of the mansion loomed over them. He squinted a bit at them while they formulated their broken question but answered respectfully. "Big? I'd say... it was bigger than any man, by about a foot? And it wasn't a thing of flesh; it was made of armor, rusted, black as night. Had a bit of a habit of floating." The guards grew silent as he explained and subsequently knocked on the door. One of the others snorted.
Kerik shivered a bit. His time spent with the lich and their minions helped him to normalize the presence of lesser undead but it did little to ease his nervousness regarding greater unholy beings. He quietly thanked the gods for being abducted and lost in the woods, something the ex-bandit never thought he would do.
((Tus, am I remembering correctly that Merthyr's staying in the mansion for his stay in Aftbide? I know he was in the tavern last.))
Kerik shivered a bit. His time spent with the lich and their minions helped him to normalize the presence of lesser undead but it did little to ease his nervousness regarding greater unholy beings. He quietly thanked the gods for being abducted and lost in the woods, something the ex-bandit never thought he would do.
((Tus, am I remembering correctly that Merthyr's staying in the mansion for his stay in Aftbide? I know he was in the tavern last.))
Marcello wasn’t a fan of boots to the chest, nor was he a fan of swords pointed at him; this was not to say he wasn’t very much used to this state. He swallowed carefully, and the blind man offered a nervous smile; his red eyes gleamed, and suddenly a change was felt in the air. Marcello has never tried to charm a large group of people, and it certainly wouldn’t be good if his charm worked too well, but he only needed to gain their trust, or at the very least their interest. And at the very, very least, the interest of this man with the boot and sword and nasty attitude.
So he extended a slender finger up, to press against the blade and attempt to direct it away, “You seem to be mistaken... Allow me to introduce myself, I am Marcello ....I’ve uh. Actually been running from these bandits in the woods...” he laughed nervously, and offered a smile, “And I’m not going to be very good at cooking or collecting much of anything, if you can’t tell, I’m a little blind. Well. A lot blind. Totally actually.”
—————
It had only been a few hours since Iskra’s Party left for the mountains, when they made their return- at least, a portion of them did. Mostly from the Knights, only a few of her bandits remained, looking ragged and cold, and her second in command, Alexei, spearheaded the group.
But the Bandit King and temporary-Lord Knight was nowhere to be seen.
So he extended a slender finger up, to press against the blade and attempt to direct it away, “You seem to be mistaken... Allow me to introduce myself, I am Marcello ....I’ve uh. Actually been running from these bandits in the woods...” he laughed nervously, and offered a smile, “And I’m not going to be very good at cooking or collecting much of anything, if you can’t tell, I’m a little blind. Well. A lot blind. Totally actually.”
—————
It had only been a few hours since Iskra’s Party left for the mountains, when they made their return- at least, a portion of them did. Mostly from the Knights, only a few of her bandits remained, looking ragged and cold, and her second in command, Alexei, spearheaded the group.
But the Bandit King and temporary-Lord Knight was nowhere to be seen.
((OOC indeed the story started with Merthyr staying at Tron's castle when Aftbide, one of the villages nearby within its boundaries, was raided... he may return to the lavish comforts of the fortress/mansion just to have a breath of normality and visit the town to get news or to collect more stuff from the old library or simply expect messengers to come up to his presence instead))
When Tara arrived, Merthyr looked up relieved to see Sir Tara Faloan was mostly alive, unmaimed and ready to serve. He crossed his fingers and looked on attentive and serious, listening to her words carefully and, at the end, he drew a friendly smile until she was out of sight returning to study the piles of books, parchments, half broken diaries, old moth eaten maps he had found half concealed, discarded and forgotten in the back of the dusty old library. The bartender had left a few grapes and apples at hand that Merthyr bit into whilst he studied shelters and paths, trying to find a logical path Taff may have followed.
Hours had gone by and days even and all it had brought up were a thousand more possible hideouts and locations he didn't even know ever existed, many connected to the discarded ruins that had been consigned to forgetfulness after his forefathers extended dominion over the entire kingdom and banned magic, displacing local lords and older if smaller royal houses in the process.
Merthyr slammed his fist onto the table at the futile effort of trying to track down the whereabouts of his missing helpless servant. Efforts wasted and countless hours spent attempting to find a possible direction they might have taken Taff towards or to, was to no avail of any kind. Never before had he come to understand just how large and grand his entire kingdom was, never mind the surrounding boundaries and adjacent realms. They could have gone anywhere, buried Taff anywhere.
Perhaps... perhaps he would have to turn to sorcery, the ever forbidden dark sorcery to see into past and future as to find out with certainty the fate of his terribly missed clumsy manservant and closest friend.
Tron would have entirely disapproved but... the lord knight was not there to talk him out of this with his higher law abiding and honourable morals... and Merthyr, having lived between the line of right and evil, had no qualms turning to darker side and forces to achieve that which he sought, even if there was ... a price to pay. His friend was worth it for what would his own life be worth, or his honour, if he had forsaken his closest and neediest friend in his most dire hour of need. The bounties, ever so increasing, were clearly not working, more drastic measures were needed to ensure success even if they came with certain losses.
The greatest difficulty would be to do so with minimum witnesses so that Tron may not be told of this and what better place than Tron's impenetrable castle, or its even less accessible dungeons to conduct such dubious affairs.
More crucially was finding a sorcerer powerful enough to make such conjurations, given the purging that had taken place for the last few centuries.
But Aftbide had to have such black onyx diamond among dirt, Merthyr himself had seen the creature of dark that had risen in Aftbide during the battle, all but a few months ago.
Such creature of the dark had been summoned in this very village thus someone... in Aftbide or close enough held such extraordinary power as to serve his purpose and cause.
What better man might know of this .... now sought after mage... than the ever so knowing and gossiping bartender. This was the reason why the ruins up the mountain were ruins, magic had been outlawed and the royals or lords there were keen and learned dabblers of magic, dark magic... this town, under its boundaries a long time past... was still oozing the same creepy darkness. The most outcast corner of the realm because of its reluctance to forsake magic and stubborn persistance in sheltering those who wielded it.
Merthyr snapped all books shut and rolled up parchments and displayed a broad toothy grin of satisfaction and resolve at the new direction he had every intention to take given how slow news were trickling from guards and messengers and knights and aware that Taff could only go on for so long. He came over to the worktop rapping his knuckled to get the bartender's attention, pearly teeth in clear display at his broad grin.
He was the king, existing laws banning sorcery would not be held or stand against him. Merthyr would easily exempt himself and others through a royal pardon or simply reverse or halt them for the greater good of the kingdom, if he deemed it necessary and now, it seems, he had indeed deemed it necessary in order to shed some light into this ongoing unsettling silence.
"Bartender.... if you are not too busy... we need to talk... in the utmost privacy about a sorcerer here... in Aftbide...." informed Merthyr drumming the tips of the fingers together impatiently.
Taff followed his scrawny body, hastily walking forth to get away from the bear and the odd woman, and reach Aftbide quicker, along the way trying to strike some conversation with Grum and get to know and understand him better.
"So... how far are we from Aftbide exactly... feels as though we have been travelling for ages..." muttered Taff rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.
Lwyncelyne and Prodius followed Tara Faloan through the woods towards the eastern town of slaves and slavers. If Taff had been taken there and sold on, he would be found and bought back and returned to the king.
As they progressed through the forest though the eery feeling of dangers grew all the more intense, these guards and warriors however neither felt any of it nor were they bothered about it, well used to facing war and imminent danger never mind concealed one that was out of sight.
Lwyncelyne, however, in her elven nature could sense this darker power and darker creatures that threatened to close in on them even if they made it to the slavers town.
"Open your eyes, have your sword ready. Stand by knight Tara, her wounds are still serious and she is in no position to fight and defend herself well enough... besides... darkness... is here, lurking close by, I can sense it..." warned Lwyncelyne in all seriousness.
Prodius was used to accepting that elven senses and powers were far ahead than human limitations and nodded, giving orders for the men to march close to one another and surround lady Tara and Lwynecelyne for better measure, marching forward at a much faster pace to get to the slaver's town quicker.
If an attack had to take place, they had better chances of survival amidst a human town with houses and more weapons nearby than in the wilderness of the forest, on open field.
Pentre rubbed his eyes briefly and shook his head confused at the bewildering thoughts that his mind was presenting as acceptable and appealing which were, in fact, entirely against any knightly honour and better judgement.
Still, Tron Pentre couldn't deny a sudden strange attraction towards this helpless one. Those thin lips that drew an alluring smile, those red pleading eyes held sway over him with a strange inviting sparkle in them, followed by the seductive soft voice... a voice that was messing around with his head by stirring feelings and undoing his resolve.
In his mind, the lad had provided a very convincing and reasonable confession made as to why this traveller was there and his bewitched mind screamed at him to hold onto this creature, this helpless creature in need of protection.
Pentre distractedly half listened to the explanation, sheathing the sword again and lowering down, hand stretched forward to take the unusal step of personally offering the blind youth help to rise up, rather than have a lesser guard do so. Never before would Tron the Terrible openly allow contact with an unknown peasant. This action alone caused gawking and gaping mouths among knights and guards alike, upon anyone who dared look at the scene.
The proximity to this strange creature was stirring Pentre's bewildering thoughts some more. Something he had clearly never experienced before for he was clueless about the cambion's nature, existance and spells.
Pentre stood upright, afterwards, and drew a pleased smile on his lips, inadvertently confirming that the spell was working very well against this otherwise ruthless and shrewd lord knight
"Well then.... in that case... I shall ... make you mine... I mean... take you at my personal services... and protection, of course..." declared Pentre immediately revoking the earlier sentence of slavery and hard labour, leaving the guards and knights baffled if weary, at this unusual and sudden overturn of the earlier sentence
Pentre rubbed the back of the neck briefly as he stared at the raised eyebrows and inquisitive looks and tried to offer an explanation for his change of heart that would reassure the men without loosing credibility or authority, and somehow ease the awkward situation.
"We can't have the bandits taking yet another helpless vassal to themselves...." half mumbled Pentre struggling to find an explanation even to himself that justified this embarrassing attraction or sudden change of behaviour
As they progressed through the forest though the eery feeling of dangers grew all the more intense, these guards and warriors however neither felt any of it nor were they bothered about it, well used to facing war and imminent danger never mind concealed one that was out of sight.
Lwyncelyne, however, in her elven nature could sense this darker power and darker creatures that threatened to close in on them even if they made it to the slavers town.
"Open your eyes, have your sword ready. Stand by knight Tara, her wounds are still serious and she is in no position to fight and defend herself well enough... besides... darkness... is here, lurking close by, I can sense it..." warned Lwyncelyne in all seriousness.
Prodius was used to accepting that elven senses and powers were far ahead than human limitations and nodded, giving orders for the men to march close to one another and surround lady Tara and Lwynecelyne for better measure, marching forward at a much faster pace to get to the slaver's town quicker.
If an attack had to take place, they had better chances of survival amidst a human town with houses and more weapons nearby than in the wilderness of the forest, on open field.
Pentre rubbed his eyes briefly and shook his head confused at the bewildering thoughts that his mind was presenting as acceptable and appealing which were, in fact, entirely against any knightly honour and better judgement.
Still, Tron Pentre couldn't deny a sudden strange attraction towards this helpless one. Those thin lips that drew an alluring smile, those red pleading eyes held sway over him with a strange inviting sparkle in them, followed by the seductive soft voice... a voice that was messing around with his head by stirring feelings and undoing his resolve.
In his mind, the lad had provided a very convincing and reasonable confession made as to why this traveller was there and his bewitched mind screamed at him to hold onto this creature, this helpless creature in need of protection.
Pentre distractedly half listened to the explanation, sheathing the sword again and lowering down, hand stretched forward to take the unusal step of personally offering the blind youth help to rise up, rather than have a lesser guard do so. Never before would Tron the Terrible openly allow contact with an unknown peasant. This action alone caused gawking and gaping mouths among knights and guards alike, upon anyone who dared look at the scene.
The proximity to this strange creature was stirring Pentre's bewildering thoughts some more. Something he had clearly never experienced before for he was clueless about the cambion's nature, existance and spells.
Pentre stood upright, afterwards, and drew a pleased smile on his lips, inadvertently confirming that the spell was working very well against this otherwise ruthless and shrewd lord knight
"Well then.... in that case... I shall ... make you mine... I mean... take you at my personal services... and protection, of course..." declared Pentre immediately revoking the earlier sentence of slavery and hard labour, leaving the guards and knights baffled if weary, at this unusual and sudden overturn of the earlier sentence
Pentre rubbed the back of the neck briefly as he stared at the raised eyebrows and inquisitive looks and tried to offer an explanation for his change of heart that would reassure the men without loosing credibility or authority, and somehow ease the awkward situation.
"We can't have the bandits taking yet another helpless vassal to themselves...." half mumbled Pentre struggling to find an explanation even to himself that justified this embarrassing attraction or sudden change of behaviour
Once Merthyr's business with Iskra, Tron and the others was concluded he'd find Otso idly cleaning a mug with a table cloth, humming to himself. Upon addressing him the man looked up, respectful and still somewhat mirthful despite the bandit king's earlier presence. "Aye...?" He started. "Well, my king, I'd be glad to talk with you. Upstairs?" Otso left the mug and cloth on the counter, casting about the crowd before meandering around the counter, towards the stairs. He beckoned the king while beginning to ascend them.
_
Grum snorted. "Well, to be blunt..." He tapered off, glancing somewhere off into the woods. His suspicions dwindled before he continued. "...We aren't far. I had to take indirect paths to avoid being caught. Truth is, these paths are not very good for quick travel. Just well hidden." He brought his hands together to crack his knuckles, surprising himself with just how frail his 'new' body seemed; he grimaced after cracking a few and kept walking.
"How do you humans live like this? Everything is freezing." The chieftain grumbled. Despite Taff's best attempts, avoiding the strange woman and her bear seemed impossible. If anything, they were leading the trail back to Aftbide, though the minotaur didn't seem to need their help.
_
Tara frowned when her injuries were brought to her entourage's attention; it wasn't exactly loyalty-inspiring to be noted as a wounded woman, needing protection. Still, this was the hand she was dealt, and so she'd have to do her best with it. And Lwyncelyne's warning regarding darkness in the woods was not to be overlooked.
The knight decided to focus less on herself, then, and more on her surroundings. She listened and watched carefully, alert to noises beyond the crunching of snow, mud and leaves beneath their feet. She watched for shapes between the trees, whether humanoid or otherwise, as she kept up with the others.
For a few moments the forest remained relatively normal. Faolan had faith in the elf's ability to detect the unnatural, but she did wonder if the threat hadn't passed them by in the time they increased their pace. Seconds later, she saw something; a silhouette in the distance to their left, watching them from behind an old oak. Discreetly as a jogging warrior could she pointed them out. "Forward left, someone's watching."
Then she saw a similar figure further along. "Two, now." She said. A zephyr passed them by, breaking the familiar scent of the forest with a twinge of something rotten.
_
Grum snorted. "Well, to be blunt..." He tapered off, glancing somewhere off into the woods. His suspicions dwindled before he continued. "...We aren't far. I had to take indirect paths to avoid being caught. Truth is, these paths are not very good for quick travel. Just well hidden." He brought his hands together to crack his knuckles, surprising himself with just how frail his 'new' body seemed; he grimaced after cracking a few and kept walking.
"How do you humans live like this? Everything is freezing." The chieftain grumbled. Despite Taff's best attempts, avoiding the strange woman and her bear seemed impossible. If anything, they were leading the trail back to Aftbide, though the minotaur didn't seem to need their help.
_
Tara frowned when her injuries were brought to her entourage's attention; it wasn't exactly loyalty-inspiring to be noted as a wounded woman, needing protection. Still, this was the hand she was dealt, and so she'd have to do her best with it. And Lwyncelyne's warning regarding darkness in the woods was not to be overlooked.
The knight decided to focus less on herself, then, and more on her surroundings. She listened and watched carefully, alert to noises beyond the crunching of snow, mud and leaves beneath their feet. She watched for shapes between the trees, whether humanoid or otherwise, as she kept up with the others.
For a few moments the forest remained relatively normal. Faolan had faith in the elf's ability to detect the unnatural, but she did wonder if the threat hadn't passed them by in the time they increased their pace. Seconds later, she saw something; a silhouette in the distance to their left, watching them from behind an old oak. Discreetly as a jogging warrior could she pointed them out. "Forward left, someone's watching."
Then she saw a similar figure further along. "Two, now." She said. A zephyr passed them by, breaking the familiar scent of the forest with a twinge of something rotten.
(( whose turn is it? ))
((I am not sure if Atoli is actively RPing yet if so it's her turn else strawberry))
((I didn't have much part in it so far))
(( Not sure if this RP will continue because I have not heard from iltheyn for over a month))
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