| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
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| Everything Except...; [p] Shan | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mon Nov 7, 2011 2:17 am (1,142 Views) | |
| Tannin | Mon Nov 7, 2011 2:17 am Post #1 |
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The hound was not entirely sure what had drawn him here, to these ruins, but he figured his sister might have been through here at some point. He was most comfortable in his hellhound form, so that’s what he was in right now. The only weapons he had were his claws for the time being. He wouldn’t want to get in a knot and waste time shapeshifting. Shapeshifting did not necessarily take a long time, but when your life was on the line and each second mattered, it would be considered too long and too risky of a move. It was night time, luckily. The blindingly bright orb in the sky had finally gone down. The old ruins of the once busy city towered overhead, making it look like the things that used to live here were giants or something along those lines. The hound didn’t think too long on it, though, considering the fact that he was more concentrated on the ‘here and now’ rather than the past. He was following the path that led through the whole city, keeping his nose to the ground as he continued to look for his sister’s scent. It didn’t seem to bother him that he didn’t even know what his sister’s scent was/is. All that he cared about was possibly finding somebody that knew where she was. So far, he had no luck. All he could hope for was a clue, or perhaps something that could remind him of something in his past. The more he was able to remember, the better. |
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| Shan Orison | Mon Nov 7, 2011 2:34 am Post #2 |
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Shan settled inside the ruins of an old building, the roofless walls open to the stars, shining white in their light. The color was augmented by the orange flicker of his fire, where tomorrow's breakfast gently simmered in a cooking pot. He'd come here to explore the ancient ruins of this forgotten world. He wondered what had happened here so long ago, and what sort of music they played in these old homes. He was a bard, so his thoughts tended to drift that way. He leaned against the wall, content in this moment of peace as he watched the stars framed by vine covered stone. Unlocking its battered case, Shan gently lifted his violin, taking some time to tune it before playing. He had no audience besides the ghosts of this place, so he played what he wanted: fun chords, playful bits of songs, tiny bits of sound that came to him as he improvised. Overall, it was a mess, but it had an overarching beauty as it shifted from melody to melody. Quiet night. We've been here a week, and we haven't seen anyone, not even a sign of someone, his second thoughts noted. This place has nothing of value, so no one comes here. It definitely has something of value, his anima said, relaxed in this place. It's just not something you can make a profit from, like a large tree too twisted for lumber, but provides wonderful shade. His mind settled again as the bow jumped around a series of staccato moments. If we ever settle down, Shan's anima said, Maybe we could set up a place here. No one comes here, it seems. It would be great. Yeah, his second thoughts agreed, and Shan's mind drifted back to the music. |
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| Tannin | Tue Nov 8, 2011 2:19 am Post #3 |
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As he continued padding along the path, music entered his ears. He kept walking, noticing that he was getting closer and closer to the music. He even strayed from the path to see where the music was coming from. He didn’t know himself to be so interested in music, but anything was possible, when it came to looking for his sister. He had to look for every possible clue. Soon, he came up to ruins of one of the old buildings that once stood proudly, and entered. Upon entry, his golden orange eyes fell on a small fire that was underneath a pot of some sort. Now that he was close by, the melodies didn’t quit seem to match up, or sound any good to his ears. He shook his head as he walked up, seemingly bothered by the tunes, but his eyes were locked on the fire, not looking away even if the music stopped. He walked up and sat down, still in his hellhound form, just staring at the fire. He didn’t seem worried about the human playing what he called music, the hound was just focussed on the fire, as if he thought the flames were the most amazing thing he had ever seen. He did this anytime he saw fire, and this time was not any different. He was sitting really close to the fire, with his nose just inches away from the flames as if he enjoyed the heat. He didn’t know what it felt like to be on fire, however, and he planned on keeping it that way... but the heat from the fire did feel really nice. It was probably surprising that such a creature with a skull for a face would have any feeling at all. Although, his overall colour and boney structure looked like he could really use something to keep warm. |
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| Shan Orison | Tue Nov 8, 2011 3:28 am Post #4 |
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Shan's private reverie was interrupted as a...an animal padded toward the fire. Shan wasn't quite sure what it was. He wanted to say wolf, but it was so scarred and boney, it could just be an unfortunate dog. Shan shifted to a steady tune, hoping his music's ability to soothe the savage and possibly hungry beast would keep it calm. He silently watched the wolf pad forward, staring into the fire as if hypnotized, his nose dangerously close to the flickering flames. "Hey, um, you should back up a bit, Wolfy," Shan said softly, still playing. "Not sure how much you'd enjoy burning fur, but it wouldn't be a lot." Shan's eyes darted around, but the only exit was past the wolf, and the walls were too high to scale without letting his tender chicken legs dangle within jumping distance for too long. He risked ceasing his music long enough to grab his sack of jerky and toss it toward the canine. "Here you go," Shan said, playing again as the jerky bag landed and scattered dried meat. "It looks like you could use that more than me. You can hang out by the fire if you want. Just...don't eat me, because that would be bad...for me. And you'll get an upset stomach. And that'll be bad for you." |
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| Tannin | Thu Nov 10, 2011 4:30 pm Post #5 |
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His ears perked at the sound of the human’s voice, but he didn’t bother to look over until the dried meat was dropped onto the ground, hitting one of his bone paws. He stood, and sniffed at the dried meat, but he didn’t eat any of it. The hound then looked up at the human, looking at him as if to say ‘you really think I’ll eat that crap?’ After a moment of just staring, he stepped away from the fire and shapeshifted into his humanoid form. Spiky growths protruded from his shoulders and arms, deep orange scars appeared like tattoo patterns on his flesh, his hair was short, silver, and spiked, and his eyes were as orange as his scars. His clothing consisted of nothing more than a pair of baggy pants with some sort of belt and another cloth wrapped around his waist. He didn’t hold any weapons or items, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. He was still looking at the human when he finally spoke, his voice deep and scratchy, “I’m not a wolf.” He said simply, letting his arms hang at his sides as he regarded the human, taking into account that he didn’t seem to be a threat in any way. “And by the way,” he figured the human was very lucky that he was in a good mood today. He didn’t feel like being cruel, but it might have been the music helping him keep his thoughts clear. “You just wasted that food. I hope it wasn’t too expensive.” He moved over to stand against the wall as he finally broke eye contact and looked out toward the rest of the ruined building. “The correct term would be ‘hellhound’, in case you didn’t know.” he added, figuring he’d better get that straightened out before the human started to think that he was some sort of disgusting, irrational werewolf. He thought about what he said about not eating him. He had never tried human before, but something told him that human meat just would not taste good. The muscle would probably be too mushy, and the flavour sour. Neither of those sounded appealing. “Of all the things I’ve eaten,” he said, looking back over at the human to see what he was doing now. “I’ve never had an upset stomach.” He didn’t smile, and he didn’t give the slightest hint of a smirk, either. He simply stared with a serious tone, just watching to see what he’d do next. Edited by Tannin, Thu Nov 10, 2011 4:31 pm.
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| Shan Orison | Thu Nov 10, 2011 11:37 pm Post #6 |
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Shan's violin might have screeched a bit, but he took some professional pride in the fact that even as the wolf started to shift he didn't stop playing. The canine's body elongated; it's center of gravity shifted until it stood on two legs; spikes sprouted and grew from its arms and shoulders. Soon, what Shan was going to call a "shape shifting human" was before him. "I'm not a wolf," he said, his voice rough from disuse. "Oh," Shan said. "I, um, I see." "And by the way," the not-wolf man added. "You just wasted that food. I hope it wasn't expensive." "It, um, it wasn't. I live on a budget." Well, things just took a turn for the worse, his second thoughts commented. Music isn't going to work on a werewolf, so the only thing that keeps your throat from being ripped out right now is the fact he doesn't feel like it. What kind of werewolf is he, anyway? his curiosity said, starting its analysis. I mean, he's rather...um...spiky, and scars don't normally heal orange. More dark pink, sometimes white. Not orange. "The correct term would be "hellhound" in case you didn't know," the hellhound said, as though he could hear Shan's thoughts. He leaned casually against the wall with the self assured grace of one who didn't have enemies for long due to their dying soon after becoming his enemies. He seemed unarmed, but that was because, as Shan could guess, he was a weapon all on his own. Blades and maces would be inferior weapons compared to what he possessed naturally. Ohhhhh, a hellhound, Shan's curiosity said. That might explain it. I mean, we've never met a hellhound before. Maybe they all look like him. I'm still concerned about learning what they look like on the inside, his paranoia quivered. There was a long, agonizing silence between the hellhound and the bard. "Of all the things I've eaten, I've never had an upset stomach." Oh gods, we're going to die, his paranoia panicked. "Oh. Good. That's, um, good. Not getting a stomach ache. Iron belly. That's good." Shan remained seated, his violin resting on his lap, silent. He had no idea if the music was something the hellhound liked or not, so it would probably be best to wait until he asked - or told - Shan to play again. For now, Shan sat still, looking like the skinny, hopeless, beanpole that he was, his hands clearly holding a violin and bow, no weapons in sight. "So, um, can I help you with anything? I'm just a bard looking for inspiration for songs. I can play something for you, um, or not. You know, stop playing if it's bothering you. Whatever you want." |
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| Tannin | Tue Nov 15, 2011 5:03 pm Post #7 |
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He smirked a little bit as the human spoke. Obviously, he was in distress. After all, he held no weapons to defend himself from the unknown abilities of the hellhound standing so nearby, keeping a keen eye on him, as if he had some sort of issues with his canine heritage. One might say that he had a watchful eye on his new-found friend. The bard was harmless, and he played good music. “Play me a tune that tells of a long lost battle.” he requested, continuing conversation as if there was nothing wrong. He had no plans to have human for dinner, so the bard was safe. However, that wouldn’t stop the hound from pretending that he was going to. He knew that he could easily use that to his advantage to get any answers he wanted out of him. However, that could wait until later. Then, the bard’s words repeated in his mind: Whatever you want. That could be interpreted in many different ways, but he would take him up on that offer later on without a doubt. He had a few ideas with what he could do with this human, but he wouldn’t act on any of the ideas just yet. He had to have some time to really learn his limits right now. After all, he had only been awake for a few days. There would be no use in expecting more of himself than what he was actually capable of. That would make him look extremely foolish, if he were to do something thinking that he could do it and then fail miserably at it. He would have to take some time on his own to relearn his abilities. That was, if it’s even possible to relearn something you once knew, but had long forgotten. After all, he had no idea what he was doing before he woke up a few days ago. He heard somebody call it amnesia, but he still wanted to know everything that happened in his past. He wasn’t afraid to know. If anything, it would help him a great deal to be able to find his sister. He listened to the bard play his music, trying to think of if it really resembled battle music. He couldn’t remember if he had ever been in a battle before, but by his scars, he was sure that he was in some sort of battle. Either that or some old witch decided to place a curse on him for whatever reason to be forever hideous, and to forget everything that happened. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let that happen. He understood now, that memories really defined a person. Memories were required to remember long lost family members..... like his sister, for instance. “What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, his eyes still watching the bard intently. He wasn’t sure if he actually cared what his name was or not, but if they were going to keep each other company for a while, he’d might as well know... |
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| Shan Orison | Fri Nov 18, 2011 1:33 am Post #8 |
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He watched the hellhound grin at his words, which probably meant Shan was amusing him. That's a good sign, his second thoughts noted. If you're seen as funny, you're not seen as a threat, and humor is rare enough that it also means you aren't something to kill. Granted, he's just smiling at your pathetic nature, but that's a very living nature, so I've no arguments. "Play me a tune that tells of a long lost battle," the wolf said, his orange eyes boring into Shan's green ones. "A...Alright, um, sir," Shan said, bring his violin to bear again. He had no problems playing for the hellhound. Performing is what he did, after all, and he would be safer overall if he was playing. Well, he'd feel safer, at least. However, the topic was a bit of a headscratcher. First was the vague wording. Did he mean a battle lost to history long ago, or a long battle that was lost by whoever was narrating the song? Or was it a battle lost to history that also happened to be long? Did he want the song itself to be long or lost? It was probably best to go with dark song of battle. He'd correct Shan if it wasn't to his liking, hopefully with words. The second issue was Shan's repertoire. He played mostly in bars and taverns. Thus, his songs were more geared toward the drinking, dancing, and sing along sort. He knew some songs of the nature the hellhound requested, but most were more complex than he could perform alone, or required singing which was not the fiddler's forte by any measure. However, he'd been issued a challenge which, in the depths of his bardic soul, he couldn't leave unanswered. "I'll, um, do my best," he said, hoping that stating he was trying would earn him a modicum of mercy if the hellhound didn't like it. He began to play a song he'd heard a full orchestra of people play once in Cascadia. It was horribly simplified and couldn't hope to present all the facets that a score of instruments brought to the song, but he did his best, working the strings of his fiddle furiously. He made the movements seem light and fluid however, masking the mental effort he was making in translating the complex piece to four strings. He wasn't certain if it was about a "long lost battle," but it could be interpreted that way, or so Shan hoped. The hellhound listened, watching him, Shan was certain. He had closed his eyes to play, focusing his senses fully on the sound and feel of the music, so he couldn't confirm. He didn't say anything to stop Shan, however, so he simply focused on the challenge. "What's your name?" the man suddenly asked, nearly breaking Shan's concentration. Shan slowed and simplified the song even more, shifting his attention back to the world around him. "It's Shan," said Shan. "It's, um...It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hellhound."
Edited by Shan Orison, Fri Nov 18, 2011 2:31 am.
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| Tannin | Mon Jan 16, 2012 6:56 am Post #9 |
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[[ooc: terribly sorry it took so long! i have my internet back, so im slowly getting back into the loop here :) ]] Tannin remained silent as Shan played the tune that he requested. It wasn’t exactly as he was hoping for, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. He raised an eyebrow at being called Mr. Hellhound. He was glad that his father was never referred to as Mr. Hellhound. That would have made him feel really old. To this day, he had no idea how old his father was before the murder. Murder? He wondered why he suddenly thought that his father was murdered. Perhaps this music was helping him remember his past? “The name’s Tannin. You don’t have to call me Mister Hellhound.” He said calmly, taking in the details of their surroundings now. If there were any threats nearby, he wanted to know about them before he got too comfortable. He noticed that the song calmed and simplified whenever they spoke, so he let the bard play the song all the way through until the notes stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say about the song. He never learned about compliments. He nodded his thanks to Shan for playing the tune for him, but said nothing. It was so nice and peaceful at night, but he would never truly rest until he knew that his sister was safe. “Would you mind if I asked you something...? It’s nothing personal, just a question that I ask anyone I meet.” He said, finally looking over at him again, his eyes dimly reflecting the light of the fire. If Shan gave any word or sign of permission for Tannin to ask his question, then he’d go ahead and say, “I was just wondering if you have ever heard of the name Mikayles. Have you heard somebody say it, or perhaps seen it somewhere? Any information you might have would be really great.” He didn’t want to make it sound like he was talking about his own last name to see if Shan knew anything about him. Tannin was aiming to find out if he knew anything about his sister. However, with his memories currently absent, there was no telling any differences between himself and his sister when it was only the family name being mentioned. He started to worry that he’d find out more about himself than his sister. |
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| Shan Orison | Mon Jan 16, 2012 3:33 pm Post #10 |
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Tannin? his second thoughts said. Now at least we have something to call him that doesn't sound like it came from a children's storybook. The Tannin in question didn't say anything about the song Shan played. He didn't say he liked it, but he also didn't ask Shan to stop or rip his arm off, so he kept playing until the end of the piece. After the song, there was the silence of the Ruins, settling in like a soft blanket. "Would you mind if I asked you something?" Tannin asked, breaking the piece. "It's nothing personal, just a question that I ask anyone I meet." "Um, alright..." Shan said, wondering what it could be. "Does it hurt when I do this?" his paranoia suggested, accompanied with an image of the demon hound twisting his head all the way around. It wasn't helpful. "I was just wondering if you have ever heard of the name Mikayles," Tannin said. "Have you heard somebody say it, or perhaps seen it somewhere? Any information you might have would be really great." No context was given on why the name Mikayles was important. Was he looking for them? Was he Mikayles and wanted to see Shan's reaction to the name? Was he searching for a lost friend or an old enemy? Was it really the name of a restaurant that he went to once but couldn't remember where? No matter what reason Tannin asked about Mikayles, though, the answer was the same. "No, um, sorry. I haven't heard about anyone or anything called that. I can keep my ears open about it, though, if you like." Shan said, keeping still, but feeling slightly more comfortable in Tannin's presence. That tended to happen when people weren't trying to kill him. |
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| Tannin | Thu Feb 2, 2012 2:23 am Post #11 |
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Pity... Tannin had been hoping for Shan to show some sort of unease or nervousness in reaction to the name. “Are you sure you haven’t heard anyone or anything about Mikayles?” he took a measured step toward Shan, watching him closely with seemingly unblinking eyes. “Knowing about her might save your life.” He said, not realizing that he said ‘her’ instead of ‘it’. After a second measured step forward, he shapeshifted into his hellhound form and continued padding across the ground toward the bard. He didn’t really care right now whether the bard actually knew anything about the last name. The hellhound simply felt like causing some fear, and Shan happened to be the unfortunate fool nearby. He continued stepping toward Shan until a couple of feet between them were left. If the bard hadn’t moved too far from the wall, the hellhound would shift his weight onto his back paws, and place his front paws on the bard’s shoulders. Tannin wouldn’t let his claws dig into his shoulders.... yet... He let out a deep, hellish growl to see how he’d react. He wanted to see just how skittish the bard would get before trying to defend himself or before breaking into a rant of gibberish, or before doing whatever else. If there was any hope in finding his sister, he had to start being more aggressive. Being nice to people, so far did not seem to get him anywhere. He did understand that it was possible that Shan was completely telling the truth, but there was only one way to be certain of that... |
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| Shan Orison | Thu Feb 2, 2012 9:28 pm Post #12 |
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"I'm...quite certain," Shan said to the threat as Tannin shifted and began to circle him. "Really, I'd be quite happy to share. I could even make something up, if you wanted, but I doubt you'd be happy about that because you seem the type of fellow who'd follow up on that sort of thing." Shan chose to stay sitting, holding his violin, as Tannin came just a few feet away from Shan, his fangs not bared but most certainly hidden behind his lips. "I'm sorry, Tannin," Shan said, his voice starting to warble. "I truly wish I knew who Mikayles was, believe me on that but-" Shan cut himself off as Tannin reared back smoothly, lifted his front paws and placed them heavily on Shan's shoulders, pressing him down. "But, um, but I really, truly, honestly don't know a Mikayles..." Alright, not certain if he plans to kill you or not if you don't provide information, so perhaps you could just say you heard rumors of her in, say, Kellen? Then he'd be off to Kellen and we'd be off to anywhere but Kellen. And at what point, Bard, would it make sense for us to have an angry hellhound on our trail? his common sense stepped in. I think he's just intimidating you. I'm guessing he's hit a lot of dead ends when it comes to this search, and unfortunately we meet him when his patience is wearing thin. We need to calm him down, and just our music won't work. Well, there IS that enchantment... his inner bard said. Shan's common sense sighed. Fine, we might as well give it a shot. Shan didn't bother using his bow, not with Tannin leering over him as he was. He plucked out a simple melody with his fingers, light and soothing, mixing with it a simple enchantment, one that was suppose to calm your foes and ease your friends. Shan hoped angry hellhounds weren't immune to it. "I...I don't know what this Mikayles did to wrong you, but I've never heard that name before in my life," Shan said, frightened of the clawtips he could feel near his neck and the wolfish face that was too close too his own. "And ripping my throat out won't cause me to have a sudden attack of memory, so, um, please let me live?" Enchantment: Empathy
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| Tannin | Sat Feb 18, 2012 11:37 pm Post #13 |
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OOC: looks like he changed his mind...? I've decided to post anyway. Hope its not too late. I'm trying to think of something to gain back the interest. Hope this helps a bit. Even though he wasn’t completely immune to magic, he could still feel its effects. Tannin backed off from the bard just moments after he started playing that soft tune. Much to his surprise, he actually enjoyed the sound of it. He hadn’t heard such beautiful music before. He walked around the fire, staring at it for a minute as he listened to the music. Then, he looked back up at Shan and shapeshifted back into his humanoid form. “Mikayles is my family name.” He explained, not apologizing for being so upfront and demanding for information. “You’re wise to not tell lies. I’m actually on a search for my sister. I don’t know what happened to her, but I’m deeply hoping she’s still alive.” He sat down by the fire; not too close, but close enough to feel its heat, and in a spot where he could easily see Shan. “A long time ago, my family was murdered, and my sister and I were the only ones that survived the attack. I don’t remember what happened to her, though... See, a few nights ago I woke from dreaming, but that was all I did. My memories did not wake up with me.” He fell silent, a bit shocked at himself for sharing that information. This bard seemed kind and understanding though, so he didn’t see any threat in telling him a bit about himself. “I don’t even remember what she looks like. All I know is that she’s out there somewhere, and I need to find her before the wrong person does.” He wrapped his arms around his knees and sat, watching the fire. It was starting to die out, now that it was running low on fuel. So he grabbed a long stick that was sitting nearby and poked at it, moving it around a bit so that it could breathe. |
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| Syadosedge | Sun Feb 19, 2012 1:23 am Post #14 |
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That night, or rather, an hour before dusk, Torienthos had come upon the tracks of what at first appeared to be of a creature that could be confused with a handful of others of varying races, but whom all seemed to act like animals to some. One of his wolven companions had discovered it whilst it was being chased about by one of its kin. A feral growl puncturing his calm collection of serene where he was perched in the height of the nearby trees higher above. Muted thoughts were relayed between the two as the matter came to his attention. After a span of a few moments, Torienthos was already on the ground and using the last fragments of light to pursue the tracks as they led further, still somewhat warm and fresh from being laid into earth that was freshly sprinkled with soft bouts of rain earlier that evening. Two wolves thus led the way, their senses well higher than his own, both with their acute hearing via those tapered points of ears as well as nostrils that continually sniffed at the ground being flung this way and the other with a near aggressive formula. Torienthos kept up with credible ease. It would be at least an hour or more into nightfall that the tracks would lead into the secreted location of some ruins he himself had yet to venture in and explore. His kin had told him to leave such a threshold alone as others had searched about it and found nothing of formidable danger to be of concern therein. Yet, from time to time, it provided a haven to wandering bands of one sort or another, or even a weary traveler seeking some semblance of civilities means of shelter. As he approached the ruins, the sounds of gibberish snickering was overheard. They just now breaking the treeline and scampering into the opened wound of a buildings shell where a wall was no more. Crumbled walls were leapt over by one or two of the group. Whilst a larger number hastened onwards. They were bullying one of their own, a smaller one who looked more deformed by birth than wounds of combat. A wicked flail was being heaved by one of their number, a goblin who rose up to what the wood-elf would wager to be some four feet in height. Its' oily skin reflecting off the light of a torch that was readily erupting into flame by another of the group now that the forest was a safe enough distance away. The illumination bore well against the walls of the building. Enough so that Torienthos was able to watch as a rusted flail, or perhaps one with much dried blood upon it, if not both, was cringingly grinding chain against chain as the end of the flails ball bearing a few remaining spikes was allowed to gain enough momentum before it was hurled forward as the goblin hurled himself into a lunge in the victims direction. Blood splattered and spewed forth in another moment onto the wall further beyond. The sound of thick liquid splattering and smacking against a dirt-drenched wall in dozens of spots disrupting the silence of the night. Several missing teeth and remnant sharp ones from many a mouth erupted in a guise of laughter and loud hysterics that would no doubt awaken any creature seeking slumber in the ruins that night. Or scare any childs' nightmare as a means of reality that was told at campfire stories. With a spree of more gibbering and snickering, the group continued onwards, into the ruins, weaving through crumbled entryways and passages that led around what was once alleyway and street now earthen ground and remnant stonework. Behaving as if there was to be a party soon and they were seeking a perfect spot to hold it. No doubt, they would make their way to the campfire that was awaiting discovery. An open flame that would reveal the presence of two already here with music and story. A beacon of others to have fun with. |
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| Shan Orison | Sun Feb 19, 2012 3:57 pm Post #15 |
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"Oh," Shan said as Tannin shared the entirety of his tale. "I'm...I'm sorry. I wish I did hear something about her, but...I haven't." He stared into the dying flames, still playing, since that seemed to calm the hellhound a bit. "The closest I can relate to that sort of thing is when my father died, but that happened when I was just a toddler, so...it's not nearly the same..." Shan's music and the crackle of flames filled the silence of the dark night. Searching the whole of Imythess for one person, one person that you had no idea where they might be or who might know them...it was a monumental task, and one Shan felt had little hope of success. He must have been looking for quite a while without a lead, his second thoughts said quietly. No wonder he started acting so snappish. "I do know people, though," Shan said, breaking the stillness. "I can ask around, and if you give me some means to contact you, I can share -" A sudden cackling laughter, manic and mad, covered the rest of Shan's sentence. His violin squeaked to a halt as he listened to it echo through the ruins. The hairs on the bard's neck stood on end at the sound of it. "...Do you know what that was?" he asked, slightly fearful. |
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