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Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Mon Feb 27, 2012 4:12 pm

The adventure of an unlikely group warriors who band together for varying reasons to see the demise of titan-esque monsters. But, is everything really as straight-forward as it seems or is there much more than meets the eye?
[ THEME SONG ]

Age of the Colossus IC

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Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Fri Mar 02, 2012 7:52 am

Wralandir - Cold Rock - Loch Morgh
Just Outside The Castle
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 7:42:21 PM
Koga Tokugawa: The Burning King

Time is deceptive... depending on the scenario, hours can feel like seconds and days can feel like years; it’s all relative. Unfortunately for this group of heroes, it seemed as if months had passed. But the ugly truth was: only five days, ten hours, forty-two minutes, and twenty-one seconds had elapsed since their departure from Khaz Modan. Despite this fact, they were still no closer to reaching their destination. They knew the road ahead would be hard traveled and not without its obstacles, but they would be lying if they said they had expected this.

With every passing day, their struggle increased. Not hours after they left, had a blizzard moved into the area -- forcing them to walk against blistering cold winds. With this storm came shards of ice, which when carried by gale force winds were enough to cut and pierce skin; fortunately, none were severely wounded. The next day, they were forced to relinquish all siege machines to traverse a narrow pass. Although, a detour could have been taken, crowd majority was in favor of avoiding this time consuming and treacherous route. By the third day, a night raid by Dire Bears plus an encounter with Frost Elves on the fourth day left more than half of their supplies missing or destroyed. Now day five, all but personal supplies have been depleted, people are tired, morale is low, and everyone wants nothing more than for it all to be over.

"Not much further, now!" yelled the dwarven navigator.

Multiple grunts and groans were heard in reply to this status update. It was an expected result; the dwarven man had been going on for hours about how they were getting closer. Yet, here they were: steadily marching, meanwhile thinking they were lost. Surely, they would have frozen to death ages ago if it weren't for the burning beacon at the head of the pack.

A brilliant display of magnificent flames exuded from the being that was Koga. The cold surrendered in the wake of his fiery might -- snow melted and sizzled beneath his naturally armored feet revealing the hard rock of the mountainous landscape while the freezing tempest warmed as it cascaded off his furnace like body, bathing the mass of shivering bodies in waves of heated currents. Like moths to the flame, the populous clambered and fought to huddle behind the Burning King. Being the sole source of heat and warmth made Koga a valued commodity among the group. Because of this, Koga was treated highly and well pampered. The upkeep for a steady torrent of flames was high and took its toll on his body. However, he only needed to gesture before his needs were saw too. There were only a few souls who were not so eager to offer a tribute to the would-be-savior if it meant the molten furnace kept burning. Some even, to his dismay, doused him in flammable materials if they saw their fire growing too weak and in need of a boost. But, the most beneficial of these perks, were the herds of women wishing to share a tent with him. It was truly an experience he savored and would crave after its absence.

Suddenly, the blizzard began to die down -- the wind ceased its howling and the thick vale of snow peeled back, only to be replaced by a cold breeze and light snow fall. "Look, over there!" exclaimed the dwarven navigator. Off into the not-too-far distance sat a gargantuan castle with serpentine path lying before it; they had finally arrived. "Told you lot we were almost there." the navigator said mockingly.

Koga surveyed the freshly revealed scenery: Loch Morgh, once the capital and home to the Bergelmir, king of the Frost Giants. Currently, one of the few suspected dwellings were they can be found, since they are on the verge of extinction. For that very reason a team of seven adventures and a contingent of twenty-five dwarven soldiers were outside the castle walls, on a quest to rid the lands of Cold Rock of the very last Frost Giant.

Recalling the flames that once defined his aura; his body cooled and dimmed, no longer the burning star it once was. He would rest and regain lost energy for there was battle on the horizon. Looking back, he then signaled to the dwarf general to ready his troops and for the others to do the same. As soon as everyone was ready, they would breach the castle and kill all that stood in their path.

Lifecharacter · by **Lifecharacter** on Sun Mar 04, 2012 5:26 pm

Cold Rock : Loch Morgh
Blanketed Tundra
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 7:29:41 PM
Wilhelmina Bismarck & Ai Lin Han

Out of the millions of words that consisted of Ai Lin Han's vocabulary, none could describe the feeling of how bloody cold she was in one word. The thick cloak, one part leather and two parts wool or fur has all but failed her at this point—the fabric soaked to the core and unable to defend her from the blistering winds that ripped across the landscape like a multitude of tiny knives. Her toes were numb, and she was quaking with such vigor that each step was a chore. Blast the snow, blast the cold. At least back at her temple, there were walls and fires and cups of hot tea. Though she was wrapped up tighter than a mummy, every square centimeter of exposed skin broke through the shields that attempted to conserve heat. What was worse was when this was all over, her hair would need serious tending-to in order to regain its sleekness it once had before she followed this group of headstrong idiots into the frozen wastelands to kill a giant.

Wilhelmina was not but inches away from her, following at a steady pace- though to Ai Lin she did not seem distressed. Sidling up even closer in an attempt to share body heat, as strange as it sounded to do with a Lich, she tried to communicate with her companion over the screaming winds. "Mina, can't you do something about this freezing cold?" She complained, "At this rate I won't be able to hold my foci because my fingers will have to be amputated!" Her hands quickly checked the insides of the cloak, ensuring once more that there was no breach that she could keep shut. There wasn't it was just the cloak's failings. She was too cold to bother grumbling to herself about how abhorrent this entire journey was. As much as she wanted to jump onto Koga's back and have him carry her the rest of the way, her pride- almost as stiff as the ice under her feet would not allow her to do so. She had scoffed at the vendor a week ago when he tried to sell her a pair of goggles, learning of the group's intentions to travel north. She supposed now it would be him that would be laughing. Ai Lin could barely open her eyes, and even if she could or did, the blizzard allowed for poor vision. It wasn't hard to realize how easy it was for travelers to lose their way in such disgusting weather.

An annoyance, that was what the ripping winds and the frozen air was. Not only had the scattering snow basically blinded her to anything more than a few yards in front of her, but the cold itself had begun to seep into her skeletal structure. There was nothing covering her body other than her usual, thin suit made of materials that were unlikely to survive the traveling, let alone an actual conflict. Beneath them and protecting that ever-stiffening set of bone was a thick layer of ash that made up her skin, which now began to look worn from the ash actually freezing and becoming incredibly difficult to manage.

Until now her study of heat and fire magic had become nothing but a waste of time that accomplished nothing that a piece of flint couldn't have done; she took a bit of pride in her unconscious foresight. With Koga keeping the majority of the party from freezing with his unnatural furnace, she had kept her own heat focused on preventing her joints from receiving too much damage. That is until the words of Ai Lin pierced the howls of the storm gods and warned of bodily damage, all to the sight of the girl closing the already short gap between them. While it would be straining on her manufactured body, Mina wrapped one arm around the girl's torso while the other lay a few inches in front of them with an open hand waiting to receive the frostbitten fingers.

Scrolling over the calculations and the formulae required to produce desired temperatures, having never used such a mild form outside of herself, she determined the proper amounts and produced a surge of heat to fight against the blizzard. Throughout the process she had thought of what to say and, with a voice that would find difficulty in amongst the strong winds, she responded. "You should have told me sooner."

"You know I don't want to burden you." She muttered. Luckily for the temple girl, help was quick in coming. Mina did not complain as she wrapped an arm around the shaking Ai Lin, and the priestess gratefully grabbed the Lich's hands in response. She relaxed visibly against Mina's body, taking in the warmth greedily. "You're a lifesaver, Mina." She sighed in relief, falling back into a more comfortable and quick step with the heat coursing through her body. Her hands held fast against the Lich's, though Mina wouldn't be so cruel as to withdraw them, Ai Lin was so afraid of the blizzard that raged around them she didn't want to take that chance. She also took solace in the fact that only she could share Mina's heat- Koga served as a good distraction, the Cindersoul that would keep everybody warm while his skin visibly glowed a vivid orange. If she were not so tired from the journey and cold, she would have immediately launched into an internal debate about the man's anatomical structure. Sure, she's seen it rended open a few times when she tended to him, but she never got something as luxurious as a consensual surgery for the sake of knowledge. Then again, neither would she do something of the sort.

It wasn't long afterward that the howls began to grow less angry, and the winds did not rip against her clothes in furious attempts to strip them from her body. It was amazing how these storms dropped upon them like a robe, and left like dust in the wind. It was as if mother nature teased them with such odd weather patterns. As the snow settled, Ai Lin was able to discern a path based on the landscape. A dwarf then took note of the building in the distance. Ai Lin followed the stout man's finger, and noticed it as well. Poking out among the snow mounds was the castle, and judging by its size in comparison to how far they were from it, Ai Lin was fairly certain in maintaining that the castle would be gigantic. Suddenly the comfort she felt from the heat dissipated as anxious nervousness set in. If that housed Giants, she was extremely worried about how they would even manage to scratch such a thing with a motley regiment of soldiers and a group of seven. She'd have to do the best she could to make sure they weren't squashed. Turning to Mina, she raised an eyebrow. "Any ideas on a plan of attack?"

Mina took the young priestess into her arms and returned the tight grip she was receiving, dismissing any fragment of thought that claimed her to be a burden. A few of the short ones seemed to notice her relaxing within the Lich's embrace, but the winter could take the entirety of her traveling companions and she wouldn't mind if Ai Lin had been spared. Though with the closeness and the she now had with the priestess, she found that her previous, undisturbed walking had become awkward in an effort to avoid kicking the girl. She spent a good few seconds staring straight down at her feet attempting to devise some sort of system to correct her walking without resorting to her magic, but there wasn't much improvement to be had in this situation.

As Mina gave up trying to create some form of stable gait, she brought her eyes up to look upon the tired face of her charge that sent her mind into a flurry of thoughts on how to end this frozen march as soon as possible. The preferable idea was to simply use her magic to fly across the landscape until they reached their destination, or at the very least levitate so as to remove the burden of walking in deep snow. The problem with such an idea was that, regardless of the soon-to-be-dead navigators worthless and repeated assertions, the distance between them and their goal was unknown and collapsing before that point would find the still-living member of the embrace feeling the cold touch of death. Not to mention that visibility was still horrible and they could find themselves going in the opposite direction then they intended, the undisturbed force of the ripping wind taking its toll as they became lost in the tundra. Fortunately, the storm began to subside before any effort could be allotted to any of these plans and the place of their bothersome journey's end showed itself; a massive structure that would turn each of the company into a scurrying mouse upon someone else's home.

She had never seen a Frost Giant before, so when the occupant of her arms turned and asked something that should have been discussed before making this long trek, she didn't really know what to say. She thought for a moment as her eyes rested upon the inquisitive face and occasionally fluttered slightly with bursts of mental activity. "I've never seen one before." Her tactical prowess proved themselves to be just as lackluster as she knew they were and the only solace one might find in the Lich's statements came in an unenthusiastic guess. "I may be able to drown it..."

The quiet build-up as the Lich thought about her query only made the resulting comment more humorous. Ai Lin grinned at Wilhelmina, turning her head to face the structure in the distance once more. "I'm sure you have enough to give him a cough or two." She said, "but you should forgive me if I doubt your ability to drown a matured giant. I'm willing to bet his lungs are taller than the average church's bell tower." She squinted, trying to make out the tallest point on the building. The building was definitely huge, but when she noticed the bastions that towered over the main wall, she couldn't help but feel insignificant compared to its size. Moreover, she was amazed that there was so much material around for such a construct. Surely, they must have demolished a mountain to find all that rock. Maybe two or three, depending on how thick the walls would be.

She pulled her foci, a crystal used for the purpose of strengthening her magic to hold up to the light. It was a pretty little thing, though colorless and bland in shape. She regarded it for a few moments, deciding what kind of magics to bestow upon her allies in order to maximize their efficiency for the fight to come. She knew that Felix would ask only for an endurance boost, but Koga's tastes seemed to differ slightly depending on the situation. She looked up to see the dwarves huddled around the fiery man once more, and failed to bite away a cheeky smile. It was only months, and she was still learning what she should and shouldn't do. Ai Lin turned once more to the Lich, freely turning her whole body now that she was warm and comfortable enough thanks to Mina's magic. "Well, while you're busy gathering enough ash to drown our giants, what kind of buffs would you like?" She asked, trying to elicit some amiable chatter before the encounter. She had been doing this ever since Wilhelmina had "acquired" her, in an attempt to squeeze out her personality. Whether or not it worked was debatable, as Mina remained impassive as ever. It didn't stop her from trying though, especially before battles. The mindless talk would take Ai Lin's own mind off the butterflies in her stomach, which would help her relax and accept the fate that was to come. Whatever that was.

The smile and the snarky comment coming from the priestess wouldn't find an answer in the Lich, but it did send a wave of relief over her now that she no longer needed to worry about frostbite. Mina looked toward the structure again to consider what she had just been told about the insubstantial nature of her ash and found a pair of reasonable solutions to the problem. The first consisted of burning a multitude of bodies to produce enough to effectively drown the giant, though dwarves don't provide very much, and the second consisted of her wondering if she could fashion her ash into spears once they were inside the beast. When deciding which of the two would be more effective, she turned to face Ai Lin and watched her as she pulled a crystal from her pocket.

She simply looked on until she was prompted with questions of buffs that rolled around in her head collecting each and every possible answer to the question. While waiting for a proper answer to form itself within her mind she tested her remaining mana and prepared a pulse to send out into the world. "Whatever you would have given to me keep for yourself." Buffs were something that weren't very useful for Mina; anything to do with magic would need to be cast on her actual body and she her body wasn't worth the effort to reinforce. In the end it would just use up magic that would be put to better use elsewhere.

With her answer given and no more strain upon her focus, she sent forth a wave of mana to determine the availability of resources. By this time the cold had ceased its attacks upon her false skin, ending the need to strain herself on such a thing so when the answers she sought returned to her she tapped into her necromancy as she gave her response. Extending her arm into the air and twisting it around in rather unnatural ways to loosen the bones and the ash, she prepared to reveal her army. Within an instant she plunged her fist into the snow, shattering the ice and freeing up a majority of the dead bodies buried under it all. As she rose back to her normal height, the stares of some of the dwarves who weren't too focused on warming themselves by the furnace to notice such an act, the snow began to shift. They may be frozen but rising wouldn't be too difficult with the amount of power spreading through their mummified and skeletal bodies. The command had spread for hundreds of yards in all directions and apparently this wasn't the first group to make an attempt at a castle hundreds of sizes too big for them; hundreds of partially frozen bodies began to breach the pristine snow. Those that could move at the moment marched, or more commonly, shambled towards the castle where they would wait for further instructions.

There she went again. "Come on. You don't have to be so modest." the priestess wheedled, giving her a quick glance of frustration. Mina may be a powerful Lich necromancer, but even the mighty can fall. The wheel of fortune is not kind to those who sit on top of it, and if anything, Mina would be very close to or on top. "Well, fine." She said, finally giving in to the Necromancer's static silence. Mina could be quite stubborn when she wanted to be. Without noticeable warning, the Lich exuded a pulse of mana, which caught the mana-sensitive priestess off guard, fumbling with the crystal in her hands. Once she had it clenched tight into her fist, she whirled to face Mina in mock-anger, but the Lich was already in the middle of a ritual, something Ai Lin was familiar with. Her face relaxed into something of a deadpan pout. While this was necessary, and it often was necessary, It didn't mean Ai Lin had to like it. She barely flinched when Mina thrust her arm into the ground with such force that the ice cracked, her face simply tracking the motion with a blunt detachment as silence soon enveloped the area. Even as many cold, dead limbs began clawing and ripping to reach the surface, Ai Lin felt it's necromantic magic. The dwarves, no doubt would be surprised. Some horrified, some relieved. The priestess shook her head slightly, chewing nervously on her lower lip. She hated the undead. What she hated more was that her closest friend was a necromancer. "Must you be so ostentatious with your summoning?" She asked rather irritably.

Ostentatious? Mina traveled through the vast expanse of her mind searching for a definition but it had simply never been identified. She rose from the completed summoning to look into the visibly irritated face of Ai Lin. For some reason that was never known to her the motions of heavy breathing were still present even though the need for it was lost centuries ago. Perhaps it was due to a lack of straining herself since completing the Ritual? She quickly dismissed such an unimportant topic because she still needed to answer a question with a major part completely unknown to her. Raising an army of the undead wasn't near the strain this put on her mind. Her eyes wavered and dashed around, unsuccessfully searching the surroundings for the answer. Nothing but the Lich's ever-active eyes betrayed her desires to keep the stress hidden, but as the moments went on she knew that she still needed to produce some sort of response. The words she desperately scrolled through always formed themselves eventually, but she had never been so desperate to reply and yet completely ignorant to everything other than the feeling that she had done something wrong.

Nothing. Nothing was coming to her and Mina was now painfully aware of the passage of time. She didn't notice the dwarves looking towards her after the spell was performed. She didn't hear anything that was may have been spoken. She even stopped being able to feel the march of her shambling army and when the link was broken the bodies collapsed into the snow. She had managed to maintain her form throughout the experience but the ash of her lower body and hands was beginning to break off. Everything stopped for her except for her treasonous eyes; they were no longer searching for answers in every possible location but were widened with fear and desperation.

At this point, Ai Lin was busy observing the movements of the undead revenants moving about the icy landscape. By Temperance, they were ugly, and the way they moved was unnatural to the point where it chilled her. Bearing witness to the summoning never did take the edge of how uniform-yet-different each wraith was. However, when the revenants themselves began to exhibit behavior much unlike what it usually did, the Priestess quickly glanced back at Mina, who was in a state of visible distress. Though her body was motionless and calm, her eyes betrayed her true state. It wasn't like this hasn't happened before- Ai Lin's very expansive lexicon of words often subjected the poor Lich to such bouts of desperate chaos. Nevertheless, Ai Lin's expressive face immediately shifted from blank neutrality to concern as she grabbed the Lich by the shoulders and shook her.

"I meant 'flashy' or 'flamboyant' or 'extravagant'! Ostentatious means the same thing!" She shouted into Mina's motionless eyes, nervously looking down at the figures that carelessly broke off Mina's hands and the necromantic army collapsing of its own accord. Her comrades were going to give her hell if she broke Mina before the mission even began. Again, Ai Lin had made the mistake that the Lich's high intellect and knowledge when it came to anatomy and magics extended to her coverage of word definitions and scripture references.

Oran Tarlin · by **Oran Tarlin** on Sun Mar 04, 2012 11:57 pm

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
A Facsimile of Hell
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 7:30:15 PM
Chanath Godeo: The Taurian Bard

So few poets came from the Northern Highlands, and why should they? Why sing of beauty when an echo displaced whole mountainsides and the chill was something from before time? It was such a different world. Wasn't snow a pleasant passing thing -a soft cloak on the hillsides, another world which passed ethereally across our own? Not this, not possibly these soaring white daggers. Damn it all, turn it all forth to the dying and the desolate and the masochists!

The erratic gusts of snow kept Chanath crouching, clutching his rucksack closely to him, for fear the cold would ruin his lyre or flutes. He'd seen creatures so momentous and terrifying that they made his existence seem insignificant, but cold like this was its own type of beast. It was really no surprise then that Koga would attack it the same way he always did, in a blaze of beauteous glory. Fire was so destructive, but Koga handled it so well, that Chanath could almost forget the danger of straying too close. He'd not want to trip or be tripped by one of the dwarf-folk, or impede Koga's considerable allure but the warmth there was too attractive, a lifetime of restraint withered like so many vines beneath the damned, awesome cold.

The path became smoother under the furnacelike heat and trampling of feet, and then a blessed mercy, the blizzard ceased, though the cold still hovered, uncaring and hungry at the periphery, and Chanath had not yet shrugged off that chill that first penetrated his grey fur cloak. He spied Wilhelmina and Ai Lin in their usual symbiosis, but Willow was looking precisely how he felt. A bit distracted by the new visibility, he almost couldn't perceive the monolithic fortress, mountainous and unfolding before them like some great trick of perception, surely only a model against a false background, a project to fool would-be-intruders?

Its greatness was gone the way of a mausoleum now, for the countless who had gone before them with the same sad intent, perhaps now for them, or the creature they hoped to depose. No sooner had Chanath thought this than he heard the distinct crack of ice, and a shiver unrelated to the cold passed through him. It was like the tale of the goddess Isheltara at the seventh gate of the Underworld, stripped of her haughtiness, and naked in the cold depths of the earth, seeing the boundless land of the dead with the Nameless shambling across voids. "And the eyes of sons knew not their fathers, and grooms felt not for brides in the echoing halls. Forgotten by the world they forget, and have no names to affix their glory."The dead risen was difficult for Chanath to truly rationalize, or rather, it never did seem routine. Though even amidst the disturbing sight, it was obvious something was wrong in the process.

Ai Lin was an unending delight to speak with, but her relationship with Wilhelmina was bizarre enough to be predictably chaotic, and amidst the cold and tremulous nature of this campaign, which even by Chanath's newly lax standards seemed dangerous, he had no patience for inconveniences. He was already worried how he could utilize vibratory magic in a place whose acoustics could bury them all deeper than any of these newly risen warriors-past.

Felix had chosen the right form, certainly, and Chanath wished he could shed his skin so easily, though he didn't envy having to face an enemy with bared teeth. Perhaps he was a coward and a tourist amongst warriors, but as soon as he had a sight of the beast he'd turn to disorient it, and he had with him a crossbow and bolts, and a keen enough eye. The dead would bolster their numbers, and he hoped their dwarven escorts had resilience enough to face what was before them without their siege weapons.

He had entrusted his life to these, his friends, strange lot though they were, but how would these dwarf-folk feel, seeing some of their kin rise as a testament to the folly of this journey. Few sing of the corpses whose flesh melts in the fields and whose bones are left for stepping stones. Perhaps then they might know the benefit of uplifting music in the face of death.

Chanath moved slightly ahead, scanning the fortress, they had never fought a beast within such a building before. More importantly, the sheer size of the fortress would make for an unpredictable layout. Large enough and familiar enough to conceal the giant, large enough and foreign enough to be like climbing a mountain. The going would be slow and unsure, and any moment a wall could come crashing down and they'd die without ever having seen the creature. Surely, being made hewn by his kind, the stone could withstand it, but the passing ages may have left it on the brink of collapse.

Then of course, what if they were seen and destroyed along the winding path before them? Should they reach the gates, would only their target await them, or should other creatures have dug into this place, hermits with no loyalty? More troubling, what if the beast was absent, and the only monster to be faced was returning as they came. He turned to his flute, with as much reverence as a warrior to his sword, and cleared his head of his musings, carefully mouthing the songs of clarity and surefootedness, and tried to hear through the distant sound of wind across the peaks.

Averagebear · by **Averagebear** on Tue Mar 06, 2012 11:29 am

Wralandir - Cold Rock - Loch Morgh
A Frosted Expanse That Fuels His Incessant Bitching
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 7:31:21 PM
Daemeth : The Wandering Noose

Grumbled obscenities positively poured out of the young man's mouth as he wrapped his scarf higher and higher still on his face. He wasn't in absolute anguish - at least not as much as most of the other folk on the trip spare the burning celestial ball that was Koga. His thick skin served as a natural radiator of sorts. It was a tieffling thing and one of the very few perks to being a horned, fanged, descendant of devils. It didn't stop him from complaining in his head about it, though. Not much could stop him from doing that. He was currently a sight to be seen (and laughed at), propped atop his very unhappy steed. The man was covered in a whole variety of furry, breathing creatures he'd persuaded to accompany him on this blistering cold trip. Foxes and possums and mice and the such all cuddled to his body, a make-shift heat-producing furnace. They would occasionally stir or object but Daemeth would immediately hit them with another persuading argument as to why they should stay and they'd snuggle up once more. By now, he was sure quite a few of them were on death's bed. He looked ridiculous and he acknowledged that he looked ridiculous but he'd prefer seeming silly to being cold. That was a benefit to being relatively self-loathing. It depleted your pride and made you capable of doing things most would be ashamed to.

It'd only been four months since he'd been working with this lot. The rest of 'em had known each other for longer, but not much. So why were they out here freezing their genitalia off with one another like they were betrothed? After ten years of hermitting, the situation was hardly ideal for Daemeth and yet he still found himself here in the butthole of a land called Wralandir. Many times during the trek in between restraining the urge to shoot an arrow through their navigator's skull and having been the spectator to entirely too many dwarven enounters and growing signs of affection between his co-warriors that only made him feel a strange bubbling sensation any normal person could recognize as jealousy, he had to ask himself why . For the glory? For adventure? No, certainly not. In all actuality, it was probably an attempts to fuel his martyr perception of himself, throwing more fire to the flames that was his sense of duty. If he were to be honest (not likely) he might admit to himself that these people he traveled with weren't... entirely bad. As far as talking, breathing creatures went, they were actually the most pleasant he could ever recall associating himself with.

Stella, his eye-less battle hound and lone companion (could he still say that now that he was a part of a team?) whined a little, a pathetic high pitched whimper from behind him. She lay curled in a ball on the horse's rump, entirely unhappy with the situation and pouting just about as hard as Daemeth himself. Using Stella as a model, his dark-furred horse too began to whinny and neigh irritatedly. "Oh d-d-don't be babies." he snapped. The horse neighed and shook her neck but continued onwards. Stella snorted at him and nipped at his butt a little before flopping her head back down in a complete sign of passive aggression. He sighed.

An artic fox that'd been wrapped around his neck suddenly plopped down onto his lap, rigid and stiff, frozen to death. Daemeth, unsure of his feelings on this, shot his brows high and frowned whilst nodding his head. "Huh." he finally peeped, spinning the dead thing in his hands a couple times to inspect it. "Um, I've got d-d-dinner covered, everyone!" he called out afterwards. No one heard his poor attempt at a kind-of-joke so he shrugged. "M-more for me, then." He skinned a sizable portion of the thing and found that its blood froze solid upon contact with the biting wind. He scoffed and, instead, just handed the whole thing to Stella. She ate it ravenously.

Before he knew it, they were already near the castle and he found himself instinctively clutching onto his bow. The blizzard had let up, as well, so he ordered all of his travel-companions-turned-game into a satchel where they'd stay until they were needed once more. Stella, her nuzzle stained red from her recent meal, hopped from atop the steed and trotted through the snow as they neared, scouting the place out. She growled low at the band of skeletal warriors Mina had called out and Daemeth just tutted at how dumb the hound could be at times. She'd seen the necromancy already at least four or five times and yet she still yapped at them. When he saw them flop to the floor, unanimated, he gave a quizzical look at the Lich and an even more quizzical one upon seeing Ai Lin shaking her and yelling about word choice. Great, she broke her. Not all that worried by it, as he was sure that the powerful black-suited lady could regain herself and kick ass, he turned back to see what Stella was up to. She had the leg of one of the undead in her mouth and she gnawed on it joyously. "Stupid dog." he muttered. She gave him a pointed look and continued chewing. Daemeth was disappointed that the beast they were to slay was located in a giant fortress. It meant a harder hunt for him, as calvary was out of the option indoors. He hated the idea of fighting within an enclosure where escape would likely be impossible and surprise attacks were far easier to pull off. Scratch that, he didn't like being indoors period. The thought of the ceiling crashing in on them brought a scowl to his face. Damn Frost Giants. He had a feeling this would be a particularly strenuous job for the group, however talented they were.

One does not simply slay a Frost Giant, after all.

Kurokiku · by **Kurokiku** on Thu Mar 08, 2012 11:08 pm

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
Just Outside the Castle
Thursday ~ January 8 ~ 7961 ~ 7:42:36 p.m.
Willow: The Traveler

Willow calmly surveyed the extent to which their party was being smothered by the furious blizzard, and it seemed the contingent of dwarves was the worst for the wear. They huddled up near the Hot-Head like sickly moths to the flame, and it was surprising their beards hadn’t been singed off by his flames yet, but on second thought maybe those “female” dwarves were merely males with their faces conspicuously cleaned off by their “fearless” leader. With a naughty smile the half-fey, half-ent knew she just had to bring that up, and soon. Would Koga’s ears turn red?

The rough-shod gait of Noxy was disturbing her somewhat, but she didn’t know quite what to do about the subject. Willow had been using the were-cat as a personal palanquin ever since he decided to start shifting into that form to help insulate his body from the cold, but why was he so sniffy about the subject? If he wasn’t so keen on her riding him then he should just say something about it, of course that would mean he would need to acknowledge he had actual feelings, but oh well, so bad too sad…or however that saying went.

Just to bother her hostage the curvaceous and slender woman laid out until her torso was pressed straight up against his back and one of her long arms wrapped itself around his neck while the other scratched the soft, furry spot beneath his chin. “Aw Noxy, do you think you could slow down just a smidgeon hun? I promise I can make it up to ya.” It’s not that his strides were really bothering her, it was definitely better than having to walk herself through this irritating weather, but she was pretty much just trying to see just how much she could get out of him, the curmudgeonly rogue.

Besides, she could always treat him like those dwarf she-males did Koga, and it would be a whole hell of a lot better time for the both of them instead of trying to fend off the cold themselves. In all truth the cold wasn’t bothering the fey very much, not the wind for that matter, she had an extreme tolerance to the two, but it was the heat that would wear her out quickly if she wasn’t careful. Too bad Noxy wanted to keep relatively close to Hot-Head due to his own bodily needs. Actually she didn’t want to admit she needed to be around Koga right now. While everyone else was about to run out of supplies she was pretty much well stocked on sustenance itself, what with all the wonderful snow providing her with moisture, but what she was low on was light, and without light she couldn’t process the water, so she needed to be near Hot-Head.

This brings her back up to her current predicament of using Noxy for a ride, which he absolutely did not like by the growls he continually made when she climbed on or they were traversing some form of incline or decline in the path. Once he did slow down to just a hair, or something akin to that nature because all she knew it was smoother going now, she wrapped her other arm around his neck and pulled herself just a little closer to his ear. “Thanks Noxy, you’re such a doll. Ya know it’ll be another cold night tonight, it might be best if we bunk together.” The half-fey nibbled just enough at the tender spot at the base of his skull to grab his attention, like she didn’t already have it, before slowly sliding herself back up into an upright position.

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
Not in a Happy Place
Thursday ~ January 8 ~ 7961 ~ 7:42:36 p.m.
Felixis Nox: Phantasm

Felix trudged along beside a column of marchers, close to the rear of the group overall. Though his eyes and ears were sharper than most, the people in the front would know to be on the lookout for danger. It was an ambush he was more concerned with, and that was not something that the laggers always remembered to check for. Of course, this entirely pragmatic (and not at all noble, thank you very much) course of action was hampered by two things: first, he was extremely bored because the group was moving so slowly, and it put a hitch in his faster stride. Second, and perhaps more pertinent, he was currently being harassed by a dryad.

Or at least that's what he thought she was. Some kind of nature-fey, at any rate. Transformed, he was quite the large beast, as tall at the shoulder as the mightiest dwarf was at the tip of his pointed helm, and probably twice as long stretched out. So it wasn't so much the issue of her weight as it was her seeming disregard for his dignity. He was still a sentient being, as smart or smarter than most, and here he was being treated like some kind of pet, or at best, a beast of burden. It rankled him considerably, but he was stopped from simply depositing her on the ground by the fact that he was, still, a good deal more considerate than most people gave him credit for.

A green-veined hand found its way under his chin, and reflexively, he stretched his neck out, rumbling something that sounded distinctly like a purr before he remembered himself and cut it off with a click of enormous teeth. Damn woman. She was asking him to slow down, which was simply ridiculous. She'd be more comfortable if he was loping, and he flicked an ear in feline annoyance. The downside to travel like this was that though he was warm and comfortable and his endurance sound, he could not form words on this particular tongue. This left his capacity to express his disdain for the entire situation in a rather limited vocabulary of growls, rumbles, and breathy exhalations.

As if to prove the point he could not otherwise make, he sped up slightly, lengthening out his stride and slipping into a more comfortable pace. He could see most of the others some distance ahead through the snow, but obviously Koga was the easiest to pick out. The burning man had gathered himself a conglomeration of heat-seekers, though Felix did not feel it necessary to be any closer than he was at the moment.

Willow was speaking again, but he barely registered until she bit him. Now, Nox liked the occasional nip and tug as much as the next red-blooded male, but this- the entire situation- was just a little ridiculous. If he'd had a functioning vocal apparatus, he'd have told her that some people prefer the chase, and that he was one of them. As it was, he had to settle for rolling his eyes and lashing his tail from side to side. If this kept up, he really was going to drop her, gentlemanly facade be damned.

Willow

The pesky dryad giggled in earnest at her ride’s irritation at her constant…hmm could you consider it heckling in some fashion? Well whatever it was called she was definitely beginning to wear on his nerves and that would mean bad news in the long run, especially if they had to face a few more days of blizzard-esque conditions, and to tell the truth she was by no means ready to trudge through the snow like the other fools in their group. Some might consider that a little harsh, but they would take advantage of the situation just as she would.

Speaking of the group…where were they all at? With everyone being pelted with continuous sheets of snow it became hard to distinguish figures from rocks and snow drifts. Ai Lin, the goody-two shoes and smarty-pants little healer slave girl, was being stalked by Wilhelmina, or the Dead One as she liked to call her. This was by no means unusual, in fact she was glad the cleric had come along and that she herself had been born more so on the…less human side of things so the damnable Dead One didn’t want to poke and prod her like a sewing cushion. Then there was Chanath, the waif-like elven bard who fawned over every pretty little thing in a dress he came upon when they were in a town, and Willow even had the feeling that he would steal glances at her in the same fashion, but that was definitely not going to happen. Even Wilhelmina looked more alive than he did…the Dead One! Last, and maybe even the least, was the grumpy tiefling Daemeth. He was just so self-loathing that she really didn’t know what to think about him at times, especially right now as he was wrapped up in a furry cocoon.

Soon enough though the dryad/ent could hear the shouts of that evil navigator, and to think that for five days he had been spouting off about, “We’re almost there,” as his snot ran off into his beard and formed hairy, disgusting icicles he was wont to lick on when he forgot about the off-chance of his tongue freezing to them, which happened at least twice a day. Strangely enough though the storm around them began to die down and quickly if she was to be any decent judge of time, and with such impeccable timing too, if they had gone on any longer the grumpy Daemeth might have been forced to swear himself to death. Seeing as the party summarily stopped with the blizzard’s abatement Willow decided this was as good a time as any to dismount and get ready, well as ready as she was wont to get that is.

The long-legged druid began stretching lazily, first arching her back and reaching her arms behind her head until she was nearly reaching back down on the ground, and then coming back forwards to touch the ground with her palms. A warm smile spread across her face as she gazed upon the massive castle and their unsightly motley getting ready to storm its gates. “So…where’s the rat hole we’re supposed to sneak through? Maybe fuzzy-bear back there can have some of his little friends show us the way inside.” She winked mischievously at the tiefling as she made the statement and noticed Wilhelmina going through her little ritual again.

Honestly what was with that woman…man…thing…whatever the hell it was with all of its unholier than thou I can summon undead legions tricks? Admittedly she wasn’t as fazed by them as some of the others were, and especially not as much as the dwarves, the whole coming back concept was kind of a big thing in the plant world. How many times had she seen forests burned to the ground just to have new life spring back up from whatever was left? Don’t think it was all brand new stuff either because Nature shared a…mind was the best way to put it really.

“So Hot-Head…I hope you get ready to take up the heavy load this time. I wouldn’t want those she-males you’ve been bunking with to have worn you out!”

Felix

The moment the wind changed, he was aware of it. Rather than blowing right at him over largely-empty landscapes punctuated only by the occasional rock formation this high up, the angle of it over his ears and fur informed him that a large object was ahead- massive, really, and so before he could see it, he was aware that they were approaching the hold of the Frost Giants. He did not react to this news in any particular fashion, though the guide’s words a few minutes later confirmed his suspicions, and even as Willow at last released him from the burden of her person, he stretched languidly and looked up.

The jagged spires that comprised the towers of the fortress-castle jutted into the sky with a kind of haughty architectural arrogance that he could appreciate symbolically if not aesthetically. There was something to be said for building such a grand structure all the way out here. Screamed, actually, something along the lines of a proclamation of fortitude (ah, a fort with fortitude, but he was spending too much time with spoony minstrels these days) and a cry of defiance to the world itself. A bit too much for his own taste. There were, of course, the requisite walls and-

Death. It was always scented before it was seen, at least for him, and though the particular necrotic state of Wilhelmina was not something he ever ceased to note, this was different, like bad meet left too long in an icebox. Padding forward, he watched warily as several corpses rose from the snow in that shambling, stunted fashion they had, and suppressed the urge to sharpen his claws on them. He’d never liked magic; even the benign kind that Ai Lin practiced was too much for him most of the time, and as a result he liked minimal interference from it. Even that small concession, a bit of a boost to his endurance, had taken months of cooperation to allow, and he was uncertain he’d ever be able to fully accept anything more than that. It was simply associated with too many unfortunate things, necromancy not least of all, though he supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t dream-weaving.

Shaking his head (an odd-looking gesture on him), he approached the resident monk, Saren. As soon as Felix had his attention, he pulled his lips back from his teeth in his best approximation of a smile, albeit a seriously disturbing one. He trusted that the dwarf would understand exactly what it signaled: it was time to go into battle, and bloodthirsty as he was, Nox was not at all unhappy with this situation.

He wondered what frost giant tasted like.

Wheatley · by **Wheatley** on Sat Mar 10, 2012 4:39 pm

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
Just Outside the Castle
Thursday ~ January 8 ~ 7961 ~ 7:42:38 p.m.
Saren Faz : The Iron Body

It was cold. That was all Saren could really say about living in the Cold Rock Mountains and just about all he can say with his limited vocabulary and his academic capabilities. Living in the worst condition made Yeti’s and frost elves the best in combat so it only made sense a century ago, rolled up in just about every piece of clothing he had, to train in the monastery situated among this winter hell, to be as tough and strong as the Yeti’s and to be just as comfortable as the frosty elves.

So when he had actually found the group being ambushed by dire bears, he had no qualms about helping them, after all who runs from a fight? At first, they thought he, for probable cause, was either mad or an illusion for the simple way Saren dressed: in a simple robe, shorts, and sandals, that made others exclaim what fiery hell he walked out of. Of course it was odd because the dwarf was looking past them at the human who was practically engulfed with flames. It was useless to try to explain to the soldiers what Ki is, especially since Saren himself doesn’t know how to describe it himself, so he gave the quick easy answer that makes everyone happy: Magic. It’s just so much easier to hide behind that five letter word for anything really: “What’re you, mad?! How are you not dead?” Magic. “How’d you throw that bear?” Magic. Actually, you can use just about magic for anything. All the mead’s gone? Magic. For some reason, bodies started to rise from the snow but yet just as quickly as they'd risen up; they'd fallen back down. Saren didn't who or what did this but did what was best for occasions like these: pretend it never happened. (Why find the root of a problem when a problem is gone?)

Admittedly, even at this point, the dwarf was growing tired with every step and clink of the large metal bands one his forearms and in his robes with the nuisance of snow building up on the front of his body, all the more likely to think the bodies were some sort of mass trick. As he shook off the snow every five minutes, Saren always had to remember to control his breathing, deep inhale through the nose, deep exhale through the mouth. The old in n’ out Saren calls it...among other things. It was the only thing making the Ki course through his body and it worked for about the first day and was dwindling into the second day. At that point, he had to take out a small book, no bigger than the flask he hid in his chest, (where he does hide the book actually) and recite poems to channel Ki. Of course, Saren will never admit it’s filled with poems as much as it’s filled with material for taverns:

Tere was ‘nce a man fr’m kanass
Whos nus er’ made out of brass
in stormy wether
he'd clack ‘em together
‘n lightn’in shot out ‘o his ass.

It was very well received by his dwarven companions but he couldn’t gauge the responses of the other group of notable TALL people. Admittedly, he was a little nerved by the mostly all of the TALL freaks, Koga, the fire man of the group, the red horned man whose body was covered with furs, furs that were still alive, and just about every women of the little group. There was something about tall women that frightened and intrigued Saren at the same time; like an explorer dedicated to climbing a dangerous mountain. They all intrigued him in different ways, The fey’s (whom he yet realizes is one) lack of clothing and show of skin, the lich’s (Whom he fails to realize is undead, not that it would matter) thin suit that accentuated the curves of a woman, and the cleric, which Saren would lop off his own arm in order to spend some alone time with. Of course there was the elf, whom the dwarf couldn’t honestly see that well with all the snow, given there was something odd about the bard that played her music. Of course the dwarf tried to speak with them but every time he approached the lovely ladies his legs would turn a 180 or 360 back the other way.

They had their reasons for coming here and Saren had his own after helping the group out with the dire bears whe he was explained. If he slayed a frost giant; monks would finally be given the respect they deserve. He’d get the respect he deserves from all the dwarfs who could carry a shield or a sword, or an axe, or some sort of blade and blunt. If he could slay a frost giant, the monastery of the Iron Body would get the recognition it deserves, all the money from jobs that people want monks to do. If he could slay a frost giant things would be different, no more spending life in the back of tavern’s, fighting other monk’s for money and be told to throw matches because that’s not what giant slayers do.

A big blue tiger, obviously a fierce creature, friendly as it was the nature-fey who rode it, strode up against the Monk and give him a rather creepy but well-meaning grin. Saren returned the same grin to the beast and looked ahead to see the massive ice castle that stood away.
"Toda' we'll fight 'till deth is too tir'd to deal wit us."
He could hear the glory and praise, poetry and songs all the way from Khaz Modan in his name, Saren.

The dwarf who defeated the Frost Giant.

Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Mon Apr 16, 2012 6:22 pm

Wralandir - Cold Rock - Loch Morgh
Just Inside The Castle Entrance
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 8:35:11 P.M.
Koga Tokugawa, Saren Faz, Chanath Godeo, Ai Lin Han,
Wilhelmina Bismarck, Willow, Felix Nox, and Daemeth

It was time. Everyone had been allowed time to recover their strength and ready their equipment, there was nothing that could be done to prepare them for what was coming. Together they marched: the dwarf army, undead soldiers, and an assorted group of adventurers, all of them heading for the massive castle of Loch Morgh. There was no way to open the gargantuan door from the outside, even if there was, any lever would surely be too large for them to operate. Fortunately for them, the crack underneath the door was enough for them to pass under, in addition to a makeshift ~~door~~ hole made for people of their stature.

Only once they were inside was the group able to appreciate the daunting size of the castle. The hallway seem to extend for miles in all directions, even the torches looked to be the size of the sun. But, what was truly amazing was the vast emptiness. Desolate and vacant... not a living soul in sight and only vague clues that there once was. The only thing that stopped the group from turning around and leaving, was the sound of chanting so loud that echoed off of every wall in the building. Besides, they had come too far to give up. Instead, they would track the chanting to its source and confront whatever/whoever they found.

The molten hooves belonging to the fiery steed raped the cold stone floors as she and her owner traversed the immense hallways of the frost giant's lair. Together, the burning duo treaded cautiously and courageously, ready to lay waste to whatever threat may be waiting behind the next corner. In front of them, an army of dwarven soldiers marched in single file lines, axes sharpen and crossbows loaded, bringing up the rear, an army of newly risen skeletal soldiers, and in the middle were their fellow adventurers; ready to claim glory and fame, or whatever else they sought in this journey.

"I wonder what manner of beast awaits us?" Like many of the men and women there, Koga had not seen a frost giant and wondered what battle against one might be like.

The dwarf whistled as he stepped into the castle. Never had Saren seen anything quite like it in all his life and he slowly started to wonder why a frost giant needed such a castle. It's not like the monster can't risk a little bit of frostbite: it's a frost giant. Looking up was a daunting task as the walls stretched to a height that made the monk truly wonder of the true size of a giant. He's heard the stories, that a man be just as tall as a giant's toe, but the dwarf couldn't truly fathom until this moment the vast space that a giant took. For one of the few times in his life, Saren felt true fear rising up his spine, ready to envelop him like some unholy monstrosity. His hands were shaking and his blood started to run cold. The monk took deep, shaky breaths, knowing that if he lost control of his breath, the freezing temperatures shall take his corpse. Slowly regaining his concentrated breaths, the heat started to come back, and the odd group's human torch, Koga spoke.

The question, even for Saren, was an easy question "Tis a easy qestion!" The monk exclaimed, taking a couple steps up ahead the group of warriors to be on the same row of the flaming warrior. "He be a giant who walks on two legs!" At least that's what some of the drunken folks like to spew in taverns said and Saren would take their words to heart.

When he spoke his words hung in mist before him – the intensity of a roof over his head had him almost forgetting the cold. “This place is built like most castles – the hardest part should have been getting in.”

The sight was hauntingly beautiful, cyclopean in scope and grandly desolate – but the sound was haunting. In tune with the dull roar of wind – but not their own echoes - was a grinding, gnashing sound, like moving things, or the echoes in a sepulcher. Chanath observed the castle, noting where it had fallen to ruin and where it stood unsullied. It spoke volumes of the place, that it could have fallen to ruin at all, but it did little to soothe the mind.

“If we’re dealing with the original inhabitants of this place, we’re heading into the worst possible position. If we’re dealing with hermits, we might fare better. Either way, it seems best to stay near the walls.”

He gave a cursory glance over the group, and he instinctively hulked over, listening intently to the place breathing. The dwarf made a good point, a giant should be easy to spot, and if it was in proportion with the castle it would make plenty of noise to announce itself. In fact, it would be far more difficult to deal with something human sized. The castle’s many nooks and crannies – the echo and shadows formed a constant sensory illusion – a small thing would be hard to spot. If only they could have used this to their own advantage, but with Koga, as hot and brilliant as ever, and the movement of their party of dwarves, they weren’t in a position for stealth.

With a ceiling hundreds of feet above her head, the priestess could not help but feel like nothing but a toy. Though it had fallen into disrepair, it's powerful infrastructure remained intact for Temprance knows how long. The moss that was scattered, frosty and cold had probably been here longer than most inhabitants. It was dry, cold, and windy- unbefitting of the strange sound that assailed Ai Lin's ears. Though faint, she could make out an odd chant, the likes of which she wasn't familiar with. Then again, Frost Giants have been close to extinction for years- its hard to find a good book about their culture. Few managed to meet a Giant, and even fewer have lived to tell about it. The men were all cheerful enough, and she could not help but smile at the brash dwarf's confident outburst.

"Dear bard, the castle was built in mind for giants. We can easily slide under the doors, the infrastructure is too large and we are dimunitive in size. We are the roaches of this place." She commented, shivering slightly at the possibility of a gigantic shrew. Though she did not discount the chance of having only to face hermits and the giant already slain, the feral chanting suggested otherwise. In fact, it might be suggesting quite the opposite. "Mina, do you still think you can drown something this big?"

While those who would be spending their time nipping at the underside of a giant's foot waded through the darkness towards the rear of the group, the Lich's army shambled forward taking their usual assignment as fodder without complaint. Some feet bared the bones and the scraping sounded with each common occurence and the maintenance involved with keeping the bodies from falling over was always such a chore. Other than her focus upon the troops and her recurring glances towards her charge, Mina had nothing to gawk at within the vast halls or the ruinous architecture. She had visited endless catacombs and walked before Sorrow; awe was something that would never come easier to her after such experiences. When the indefinite torch-bearer announced his curiosity, she only allowed one of the words to echo throughout her mind, beast. Who was he to denounce the sapient as such? Before any failed attempt at voicing her distaste for his word choice could even begin forming, she was met by the words of Ai Lin.

It took some time to form a response but it came relatively quickly considering what had occurred recently. "There is enough material to fill an airway and they will provide more if it becomes necessary." She turned her head a slight degree so that she could peer back at the lackluster source of her resupply and hoped her attempt at alluding had been successful. With that stressor thankfully ended, she placed her hands closer to the Priestess and began recreating the heatsource that she had thought unnecessary until what she had seen.

Willow was seriously regretting the decision she had made to abandon Noxie as her preferred method of transportation as the ominously, humongously, endlessly tiring hallways loomed ahead of their menagerie of an army. How much longer would they need to trod down this beaten, well in a sense, path to find their mark? Hopefully this Frosty Giant or whatchamacall it would have the decency to meet them halfway and save them all the trouble of finding it, but the druid had a feeling her wishes were not to be granted on this particular day. All she could hear were the cacophonous echos of their small army as it plodded, clanked, and clacked down the corridor large enough to house a large manor.

For some reason everyone seemed to think it a good idea to chit-chat about what was going on or what to expect under their current circumstances which didn't seem all that unreasonable considering the fact that there was an army's worth of feet stomping about and whoever they happened to be looking for was going on something fearful theirselves. For what reason their prey would want to do such a thing seeing as they knew that their small army was coming their was was uncertain, but maybe it was some kind of party? "Hey, Hot Head," the half-ent galloped up closer to Koga so she wouldn't have to scream over the clattering weapons nearby, "Do you think they're havin' some kind of party up ahead? What say we lay off the whole 'slaughter and mayhem' bit for a quick minute to join in the fun?"

Would that she had only been kidding, well that or had the opportunity actually been there it would work out as well, but such nuances as life and death situations sometimes escaped her outright, and that was when she tried to be serious as well. "Grr. Can't we even have some kind of song or something? It's just so boring right now. Whoever it is we're after is obviously a long ways away or we would hear 'em better right now. We might as well liven everything up since we're not exactly all quiet-like right now!"

Nox padded along at the rear of the group, though still in front of the dwarven army. The only sign of his mood was the flicking and swiveling of his large, rounded ears, taking in sounds from all directions. Perhaps the clank and clamor of armor should have echoed more, but the space was almost too big for that. Still it was doubtful that as a group they would have any advantage of surprise whatsoever. If the frost giant did not yet know of their approach, it would soon.

On an individual level, however, he might be able to manage something. Depending on the architecture of this place, it may be worthwhile to lead a flanking group to circle around behind the giant, wherever it might be. Unfortunately, his knowledge of fortress was slim; if it had been his choice, there would have been more extensive reconnaissance before they led the entire bloody army in here.

Alas, such things were rarely ever his choice, and he huffed slightly to himself. It smelled like death, it was cold, and he couldn’t even keep up a steady stream of chatter to occupy himself. On second thought, maybe it was fortunate that they’d likely be found sooner rather than later. At least then he’d have something to sink his teeth into- hopefully literally.

Chanath, eyes as usual fixed on Koga, smiled at Willow's jovial request despite himself. "You'll have plenty of music once the fighting starts. Something you can get up and dance to, preferably violently."

Willow turned her head up with a quick hmph at Twiggy's response to her inquiry. "Aren't you bards able to do anything useful? Like BARDING preferably!"

"This is coming from a fey that is too lazy to walk a couple of miles." Ai Lin commented snidely. While Willow wasn't that bad, at times she really infuriated Ai Lin.

"I may be a little more on the relaxed side, but at least I'm not a half-pint with a stick up the rear end!" Willow emphasized this point by sticking out her tounge and using her pointer-finger to draw down the bottom lid of her left eye.

Ai Lin blushed slightly, her expressive face taking on a more aggressive stature. "Well! Maybe if you believe 'relaxed' to be 'sloppily lethargic' perhaps in some alternate dimension yoou would be a genius!" She huffed.

Koga's question attracted more attention than what he intended to receive. The group sprang to life at the sound of his voice, everyone eager to interject their own thoughts and ideas on the situation. Despite all the activity, none had a satisfying answer. Deciding it futile, Koga would broach the subject no further and instead trudged forward, ahead of the others. However, he would not have his peace and quiet, just yet.

Hot-Head, or some other derogatory, yet harmless name for his kind, was what the Dryad had taken to calling Koga when she wanted his attention. She was obviously an impatient one and being Fey made her preferred choice, celebration over destruction -- but, as the chants grew louder as they drew closer, he was sure that they wouldn't be walking into a jovial gathering. But before he could relay these thoughts to Willow, a symphony of banter erupted, one so loud that he would have them quiet for fear of early discovery.

"Have you all forgotten we lurk in the lair of the Frost Giant, or is it the afterlife you crave with your raised voices and child-like bickering? My blade would see you delivered, if this is your wish!" Koga hissed.

The scraping ended. The shambling stopped. The army turned to the aggressor and drew their makeshift instruments, ready to dismember and bring death upon any who would offend the master. With her forces very slowly moving towards their current target of intimidation, Mina retrieved the lid from her urn and let the piles of dust fill the air. Some spears with incredibly fine points were created amongst the agile clouds but the majority stayed in its fluid form, ready to plunge into every opening that could be found. She didn't enjoy the fey's speaking that much and could understand annoyance, but she didn't care about others when it came to her work and was perfectly willing to dispatch the entirety of the troupe to see it continued.

Committed conversation wasn't something the Lich could pull off well. Threats on the other hand were something she had issued enough times to form the necessary syllables in proper order without the delays that had plagued her amongst her travels. "You will march for me if you utter another sound." She had taken her place before the furnace and would see to its extinguishing if need be.

It was as if a spell had been cast from the words that fell from the lich's mouth... for as they were spoke, they formed an invisible barrier before Koga, causing the Burning King and his blazing steed to stop dead in their tracks. His plea for silence had been countered with a bone chilling threat from the group's necromancer. The pair turned to face their would-be assailant. Together, their eyes inflamed with ember rage meaning to ignite those beneath their fiery gaze. Soon, though, they dulled over as they recognized their anger was misplaced.

"Dear Lich, you mistake words of caution for promises of death. I meant only we need to trend quietly or else be caught." Koga understood this was no time to be fighting amongst each other, even if he was the one being threatened. Besides, Wilhelmina obviously misunderstood his intentions. However, if she continued to pursue battle with him, he would not deny her the death she sought so vigorously. "Let us continue on our journey and turn hostility and blade toward the frozen giant."

Daemeth made an almost bored humming sound as he treaded into the castle, the feeling of walking on his own two feet an unwelcome inconvenience. He was not afraid like some of the others on the party, nor did he feel obligated to join in on easy-going banter spoken for the purpose of filling up the anxious space. They did know that there was a, you know, frost giant within the vicinity, right? Still, he wasn't particularly bothered by the idle chit chat - listening seemed to serve as a soothing pass time as they walked down the ridiculously long hallway. After all seemed to still, he made a "tch" sound, disregarded any previously spoken words (including quite a few verbal brawls between the party that made him somewhat uneasy), and muttured under his breath, "Frost g-g-giants are b-b-bitchy architects." refering to the very frustrating path they wandered. Couldn't they just get the point, throw a couple swords, and get this over with?

"Hopefully this time I'll get a dagger to the heart or something." he thought grimly, though, despite what his snarky internal narration might imply, the man didn't seek death out. Sure, it sometimes felt like it'd serve as a pretty decent escape from the horrors of deep snow and dwarven breath and the undescribable feeling of creaking through a fortress containing some huge clump of snow sure to end all of his friends, but he couldn't find a way to justify just giving up. He was stubborn survivor, if anything. He shrugged, the smallest of smirks reaching his lips as he walked along side them all, bow in hand, childishly proud of the stupid attempt at humour he'd made. "J-j-j-joking." he assured a few moments later, in case any of them couldn't tell (it seemed like a plausible notion seeing as how comedy was not his forte). He offered no other semblance of helpful advice or reassurance, though he'd be ready to string an arrow in a second when the time called.

Ai Lin was about to splutter with indignation, but conceded that Koga did have a point. Turning her attention away from woodrot-for-brains, she once again palmed her foci; the crystal emitted no noise, but exuded a faint warmth and light as the priestess gazed over it. She already have the enchantments for all the members in her group, all but Saren- the newest and most prominent addition in this foolhardy escapade. Felix preferred slight endurance buffs, Mina didn't want any at all as she was powerful enough a mage, Daemeth was usually content with an average speed and strength buff, Willow rarely deigned to allow Ai Lin to provide her with any support- she usually asked for them when she thought it necessary, Koga only needed some slight speed augments, and Chanath was perfectly able to handle himself with some wards and endurance buffs.

She had already cast some wards around them (save for Nox, who hated magic), which glinted occasionally in the dim light like glass. Enchantments never lasted so long, so she always waited to cast them right at the point the battle initiated. She went over her procedure once more; only when she was content with it did she give the dwarven monk a catching glance. "Dear monk, will you be needing magical perks for the conflict ahead?" She asked, in a more subdued voice.

Even Saren could tell when to shut up and keep to himself. It seemed the best thing to do was to look awkwardly away from the fight that was going to erupt; and a friendly spar it was not going to be. The motley group made the monk wonder how they met up and, frankly, how they stuck together. Afterall, they were probably only metres (or is it miles?) from the Frost Giant and a fight had erupted for seemingly no reason; then dying down. He started to whistle again as the chants became louder with every step; and he started to grin. It's a surprisigly difficult thing to do, grinning and whistling, and it's probably the only skill the dwarf wouldn't boast of (At least when he's sober).

Then the fellow with horns said something about, Frost Giants and architecture, and Saren took a long look at him. If anything, he was odd, being wrapped around a bunch of moving furs earlier like some ungodly beast, and now praising the beast? Of course, he'd heard of those with horns are the second worst fiends imaginable. Next to the actual lot of Cambio fiends.(There's a lot one can learn in the bars of Khaz Moden). Yet he seemed odd, odd in a good way, like a child twiddling his fingers, and the way he tripped over his words was...refreshing. Then it turns out to be a sad joke instead of a "I'm smarter then thou" statement Saren was too familar with. So he decided to walk by the odd fiend and put a palm over the side of his mouth so only he would hear. "Ah, dun worry lad. If ya come out of dis alive, I could teach ya ow to get a few hundred laughs." He once knew a dwarf who had a stutter. Couldn't speak, got stabbed. Good guy.

He whipped his head around as a pretty voice rang in his ears, he turned to the human, Ai lin if his eavesdropping from earlier were correct, and raised his furry eyebrows as he saw the Lich clinging to her. A devious grin appeared on his lips and he stroked his braided beard as he enjoyed the pleasent eye-candy. "Oh no, my dear. You should giv tat Giant a fightin chance, he's already dealing with all this-" He held his massive biceps in the air and flexed them in various positions, over his head and to his core, letting the robe drape off his shoulders for a moment before pulling them back up. "-I might brig down tis very castle n trap us all!" He said dramatically, raising his hands in the air, before clearing his throat and raising an index finger. "But I cant refus a bootiful, spendor ob a lady! Some speed outta bring da Giant to his knees." The chants were getting louder now. "Didnt tik I interduced meself, formlly, me name's Saren Faz of da Iron Body Monstery."

Ai Lin took note of the way the dwarf gave such a lecherous stare, but did not comprehend what it meant. For all of the Priestess's knowledge, she still had much to learn in that of social signals. Words, however, were much easier for her to understand, and she gave a peal of subdued laughter at Saren's antics. "Well then, Saren Faz, I shall comply. I am Ai Lin Han, Temple Girl of Father Vandheer. My partner here," She put an arm around the apathetic Lich and touched her cheek to Ai Lin's own, "Is Wilhelmina, that of a Necromage."

With another misunderstanding cleared up before an endangered species became even more so, Mina returned to the side of the Priestess who had decided to give the stranger an enchantment. The embrace would have likely sent comfort through an active body but simply left the Lich without so much as a quiver of her features other than the compacting of her false skin. Thankfully an introduction had been provided for her so she simply let the silence continue until someone else decided to feel uncomfortable enough to break it themselves. It was in those few seconds and few feet of traveling that the enormous, transparent mass became apparent to her. It was a horrendous entity, a blasphemy to the dead and a testament to cruelty.

Her eyes widened at the moment of revelation but quickly regained whatever small composure was lost; she had to focus on channeling such a massive soul out of its current prison and that took time. She began to completely ignore the conversations going on around her and gave every last bit of attention not spent on keeping upright on crafting the necessary rituals. One thing that was so overtly apparent that a new inducty into the necromantic school would instantly recognize it, was that the being was filled with incoherent rage.

Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Thu May 31, 2012 11:04 pm

Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Mon Jun 04, 2012 8:25 am

Wralandir - Cold Rock - Loch Morgh
Outside The Destroyed Castle
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 9:51:45 PM
Koga Tokugawa: The Burning King

Triumphantly, the adventurers and the army of dwarves raised their weapons in celebration. It had taken all of ten minutes to kill what had lived for thousands of years -- by the hands of a vengeful usurper and merciless lich, Bergelmir Ür, the Ruler of Loch Morgh and King of the Frost Giants, had fallen. Beside the dead giant, lay his frozen horde of warriors, sharing the same fate as he. Stands that once teemed with chanting denizens, all eager to see the death of more insolent mortals who thought they could best their just champion and guardian, were now eerily quiet. As if the loss of their king wasn't enough, the Lich Whilemaina, wrought with determination to see her one goal achieved, decided that they must lose everything else as well. Sending Übermacht through every wall of the castle, the ancient foundations began to crumble, bringing the grand kingdom of Loch Morgh crashing down.

Koga had never experienced losing everything he loved first hand, but he was the product of a world stolen from him; twice. In his opinion, that gave him and denizens of Loch Morgh, a kinship. The relationship allowed him to understand what these people were, and soon would be going through. In spite of the fact, that only a moment ago they shared the battlefield as enemies, and true the savages would have likely slaughtered him and his friends if it wasn't for this event... Koga would have piled them all upon the back of Entei and rode to the safe icy haven of the outside world. However, he could not; he couldn't even save his allies -- not because he didn't want to, but because Entei burned entirely too hot for the lot of them to survive the short trip itself. All he could do was hope. Hope that he would see them outside the same doors where they began.

Clutching reigns tightly and hutched over, Koga leaned closely Entei's neck. He needn't kick her or snap the reigns to encourage the horse to make haste, she was aware of the situation and that their survival depended upon her ability to navigate the hallway of a collapsing building. Expertly, she jumped over fallen debris, dodged crashing chucks of ceiling, and navigated the ever changing landscape without Koga's assistance. In no time, they were outside, standing in the very same place they had at the start of this venture... except this time, their surroundings had changed. Instead of marveling at the impressive of architecture of Loch Morgh, they now mourned over lost ones. No longer were they surrounded by friends and comrades, but stranger and survivors.

As he watched the omen-like dust cloud hover over what is now the Ruins of Loch Morgh, Koga was certain of two things: they had succeeded in their mission and no one can hide forever. Truly, the day was bittersweet; or was it all bad? No matter the conclusion, Koga would mourn for one whole week, during of which he would speak to no one. After that, he would give the situation no further thought. Instead, he would commemorate the name Wilhelmina Bismarck and everything he could about its owner, to memory. For on the off chance that their paths will cross again, he would be sure to extract vengeance in the name of those needlessly lost today.

Kurokiku · by **Kurokiku** on Mon Jun 04, 2012 1:09 pm

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
On the Run
Thursday ~ January 8 ~ 7961 ~ 9:46:13 p.m.
Felixis Nox: Phantasm

By the time Koga unleashed his last blast of power, the pain was already forming a thin red mist over the edges of Nox’s vision. He could tell from the leaden weight of his limbs that he’d lost a considerable amount of blood, but not so much that he would die, since he’d wisely left the arrow he’d taken earlier embedded in his body rather than tried to rip it out. A strategic maneuver had used an incoming knife to break it off with about four inches of shaft remaining, so at least it wouldn’t hinder him in close quarters.

He was beginning to forget what fresh air smelled like, what water tasted of. There was little in his world anymore but blood, but what the lich was doing did not escape his notice. Taking up Ai Lin was not so unusual; the two were… close in a way that he only half-cared to understand. He wasn’t sure the end result would be very healthy for the healer, but he assumed she knew what she was doing, keeping company with an undead necromancer, and therefore he kept his nose from places it didn’t belong.

Collapsing the ceiling on them, however, was not exactly what he’d been expecting, and he nearly rolled his eyes. Right, and the cranky undead one betrays us. I really should have seen this coming. Maybe he would have, but either way the knowledge was not going to help him now.

At times like these, it was every man (or man-beast) for himself, and Nox did not hesitate to save his own hide. Surviving was exactly what he was good at, and in his condition he wasn’t going to be of much help to anyone else. Turning, he headed back the way they’d come, avoiding the largest pieces of debris by dint of superior reflexes, and mostly ignoring the smaller ones. Agony was an old friend of his, though admittedly one whose visits he did not often enjoy.

Since he’d spent most of his time behind their lines anyway, he was a good deal closer to the door than most, which meant he had less distance to cover overall before he was out of here. Who knew; perhaps his obvious presence would lead someone else out as well, but the fringe benefits weren’t something he really bothered to consider. He was too focused on the immediate: the tremors he could feel beneath his feet, the resounding cracks as the ceiling broke, and the heavy stone screech as the structural instability forced the once-closed doors open enough for a man-sized creature to slip through.

The hallway was a different beast, several enormous chunks of stone already fallen forcing him to climb and jump with what strength remained to his limbs, but he wasn’t going to stop. He’d just caught the first whiff of clean air in what felt like hours, and his animal instinct was driving him toward that smell without mercy.

Consequently, he was the first one outside, and though he put a safe distance between himself and the castle, some sense of loyalty he hadn’t realized he possessed kept him waiting there, on the fringes, for any that might escape as he had. Damn that lich.

Ezarael · by **Ezarael** on Mon Jun 04, 2012 9:47 pm

Wralandir - Cold Rock - Loch Morgh
Outside The Destroyed Castle
Thursday - January 8 - 7961 - 9:57:23 PM
Willow: The Traveler

The pain and exhaustion of battle had been tightening their grips upon the delicate frame of Willow, and now a girl who only wanted to travel and make-merry with some adventuring sorts was worrying about the possibility of her demise. How the world like to make a mockery of the dreams and aspirations of its inhabitants is almost laughable when you stopped to think about it. Well... that was if you weren't too busy with the kill or be killed aspect of life such as was Willow's case for the moment, so she most certainly was not able to do much pondering over the subject as she stood across from yet another Snow Elf, their ragged breaths and slouching shoulders clearly denoted that both were ready for more than just a little sleep.

The deuling titans and all other manner of creatures locked in deadly combat around the two enemies seemed like a distant world in another time. All that mattered was the foe standing before them and which would make their first and last move so that they could continue with this pointless dance with yet another partner exhausted from a long fight. That was all they noticed, at least until the great resounding crashes of a giant's mace landing upon the walls and ceiling began to sound off. That little number grabbed their attention rather quickly, and both seemed to realize that it was probably best to forget about their little quarrel and leave the battlefied, with quickness at that.

Willow could not even think about what she needed to do, she was relying on pure instinct to bring her to safety and away from the danger of the collapsing castle. The pain and exhaustion which had been strangling the life from her limbs seemed to dissipate with a rapidity that was startling in and of it, but that was definitely a good and welcome occurence considering the circumstances. Everything passed as if she were dreaming though. The sounds of crashing stone being torn asunder from ancient holding spots, hands and feet scrabbling at the floor in desperate attempts to gain traction, and the heart-wrenching screams cut short by some form of collapsing material were muted in the ears of the dryad.

Her journey felt less like a short sprint to safety and more like a marathon of terror with only darkness in sight. The hallways seemed like endless abysses hell-bent on enveloping both time and space, but somehow a light started shining through from the darkness. It started as a small crack at first, no larger than a strand of hair, but it began to slowly grow and brighten until it was as blinding as the sun and enveloped the exhausted Willow. Then, something strange happened. She could remember feeling hot while making her escape, but now it was cold. So cold she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the sudden change in sensations. She understood the meaning though, it was cold and bright, which meant she was no longer doomed to rest forever in the castle of the Frost Giant.

"Screw this Giant-slaying mumbo-jumbo...I just want to have some fun."

Oran Tarlin · by **Oran Tarlin** on Wed Jun 06, 2012 2:24 pm

Wralandir ~ Cold Rock ~ Loch Morgh
Mere Anarchy is Loosed Upon the World
Thursday ~ January 8 ~ 7961 ~ 9:50:12 p.m.
Chanath Godeo: The Bard

Chanath had held closely to the floor as though it was his own mother. He’d grabbed a good axe from another dwarf, and was intent on keeping it, leaping with all his strength to avoid a blow and moving precisely. He tried to take the mindset of a hunter, and the tide of the battle was turning, and for a moment he felt – despite the exhaustion, the battle would be won.
Mina reclaimed the host of the dead and fell back to Ai Lin on a wave of effluence and ash, was it charming or disturbed her need for a human?

A tremendous shake, and things fall apart – the center cannot hold, the damn roof collapsing. Chanath’s eyes widened and he saw every living thing scatter – death at the sword had summoned them, but death by falling rocks – a crime. He scrambled for an exit, in a moment pushing a dwarf aside, and rushing as quickly as he could to the sound of bones crunching. Shrapnel crashed in front of him, and giving a sudden shriek the rock before him sundered and he pushed through it to the sound of yet more crashing.

Crawling through the tight spaces like a rat – recalling his time spent crouching through thick forest hunting – had him reverting. He slipped through another tight space and kept running. Adrenaline was spent and now the whole world seemed swathed in nostalgia. Would he never see Koga again? He groaned for a wasted life, not the pain and the world crashing about him. He slipped through another space and was outside the main arena – but the place still trembled, and he was alone to scatter towards uncertain horizons. Somewhere safe, to regroup, and to beg the gods that the mountains would be kind.

Here deep in the mountain's spaces where once was nothing but the sound of wind and cold was now a rumbling and tumult. The mountain shook off its newest coats of snow beneath the crumbling hall, and Chanath kept moving. Ruins melted away and his vision was blurry, and he crawled through bleak terrain, unaware of time. Finally he came to new cliffs, and new snow, and a hollow space in the rock. Little more than a crack, he slipped in, and felt his way towards dreams of warmth and the thought of voices. He left a path of dried blood caked on every stone he passed.

Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Tue Jun 12, 2012 12:27 pm

One Year, Three Months, and Five Days Later...

Crooked Thoughts · by **Crooked Thoughts** on Tue Jun 12, 2012 12:31 pm

Wralandir - Mirovia Ocean - Bijou Cove
Aboard the Fat Dragon, Waiting Idly
Tuesday - April 13 - 7962 - 12:03:00 AM
Koga Tokugawa: The Living Will of Fire

Thunder crashed as lightning streaked across the night sky, shattering the afore silence like a small mirror. A storm was coming, one which would destroy the serenity of the clear blue night sky. It would force the moon and stars to surrender, only to be savagely devoured by dark gray clouds. Natural illumination would be gone, replaced with pitch black darkness; the dull glow from fire would do little to chase it away. Massive tidal waves would rock foundations while rain cascaded from the heavens, brutally pelting all that is beneath. The senses would be overwhelmed and soon after, fear and anxiety would set in, causing thoughts of impending death to flood the mind. But, for now, all was calm and there was nothing to worry about...

The storm, which was slowly approaching from the east, would not be upon them for hours. By then, the fleet of war ships should have accomplished their goal and ready to brave the storm. They had set sail from Elysium, before making a brief stop in the chain islands of Havencrest Kingdom, after that they took to their current heading: southwest toward Bijou Cove. That was nearly five days ago, and now their destination was resting on the horizon; you could just make out the silhouette from their current position.

To think, a few fish giving a few fishermen trouble, was enough to bring down the wrath of the High King and an armada large enough to take on an entire army. Then again, these were not mere tadpoles. Alone, one of these creatures could see to the complete obliteration of every vessel in attendance. This is why the famous and extraordinary Legend Slayers were here, as well.

They hadn't seen any true action in almost a year now, dealing with minor skirmishes and personal disputes in order to pass the time. When word reached Nexus that the vikings of Trondheim were requesting assistance from neighboring nations, they jumped at the chance to join this perilous voyage. Days later, ten warships, fully staffed and armed, were sent to answer the call. They had only to kill a few serpents, retrieve some priceless gems, and return home. While they hoped the battle would go down as smooth as possible, deep down, they were all itching for more; they wanted excitement. The kind that only comes from the thrill of blood rushing adrenaline when nothing but, death and the sound of explosions and clashing metal surrounds you. Whether their thirst would be satiated by this venture, is not yet known, but they would all find out soon.

Shining brighter than even that of the moon, was the Living Will of Fire: Koga Tokugawa, true heir to the Obsidian Throne. The proud warrior sat casually at the bow of the ship. A single leg hung over the edges while the other had his right elbow resting upon its knee, hand firmly grasping his chin, questionably. He was preoccupied with thoughts of his journey earlier that year, trapped within the vast depths of his mind. But as the thunder boomed, he was jolted and only then was he reminded of his surroundings again. The fresh smell of the sea air filled his nostrils, smelling of salt and iodine; the shimmering reflection of the moon's doppelgänger consuming his vision; the calming sounds of the ocean vibrating his ear drum; the cool feel of a late night breeze blowing against his bare skin; and the taste of liquor and women still fresh on his breath... it all hit him at once.

The sudden realization of his environment and current quest caused him to stir, and it seemed he was not the only one. Nature's demanding voice along with that of each ship's captain, had decided it was time to prepare for battle. They would not be waiting for day's break to wage war, it was determined that night would be the optimal time to vanquish the evil. While neither side would have the advantage in darkness, being able to set up and prepare for the encounter would be beneficial. Prior discussed plans discerned a perimeter being formed outside the cove's entrance, would be the best route. The large ships would be in a stationary position and the smaller ones given a single area of which they will be mobile in. Essentially, the order the ships would alternate from big to small, with the small ships defensive zone encompassing a ten mile diameter from the nearest large ship. The planned seem to be well constructed and might actually work.

Koga would be in the middle of it all, aboard the warship known as the Fat Dragon. It wasn't that he had a preference, but the Dragon was the only ship designed to resist the effects of fire. Apparently, the ship's original purpose was to hunt dragons, which is why it was capable of withstanding Koga's burning hot body as well as any friendly fire (no pun intended) from his attacks. In the end, none of it would matter, though. Koga had his own strategy that placed him face-to-face with the serpents. He would be in water for the majority of the battle, him and a platoon of mer-warriors; their goal was to procure the gem from each serpent's forehead. Obviously, he had the most dangerous job of all, which was a fact he reveled in. He was more than ready to fight these creatures in their natural element. Using the skill set he had been honing all his life and aided only by buffs to increase his swimming speed, lung capacity, and a magical herb that would allow him to breathe underwater; he was well equipped for the situation. Sadly, he could not bring his trusty steed, Entei along. This adventure was no place for a horse, so it would be just he and Ruin.

"Aye sir, the men are ready." spoke a voice from behind Koga.

Merely nodding, Koga rose to his feet and plucked his sword from the shattered planks of wood of which he so nonchalantly plunged it into, as if it were the weapon's true sheath. The weapon was then placed on his back as he turned to face a recently assembled crowd of sailors. It seemed that they had heard of Koga's bravery and daring tales, and to have the man among them was an honor. Knowing this and that the men would need some encouragement, a boost to raise spirits, the captain approached Koga with a simple and humble request: to lead the charge with inspiring words. While some of the crew had just waked with eagerness and anticipation, others were too nervous and afraid to sleep. So it didn't matter what Koga said, it wouldn't change the fact that most of them wouldn't survive the battle, yet they still needed something to go out on; they needed hope.

"I have joined this quest because it is just. I would not see breath forfeit for no cause, but blood demands blood." He paused shortly before speaking again, turning slightly to point toward the encroaching cove. "Noble men, evil is upon us. Darkness has befallen our shores, and I would not have it so." Intensity growing inside him, Koga began to burn brighter. "Rise, and together we shall slay thy enemies... strike, strikes so others shall live. The meek shall not fade into the night... fight my brothers, fight!" Completely emblazoned now, Koga appeared as a burning symbol of strength and courage. As he roared his final words, the crowd erupted in cheers. With their moral successfully raised, the crowd dispersed and continued with battle preparations, leaving Koga behind staring firmly at their destination.

Kurokiku · by **Kurokiku** on Tue Jun 12, 2012 8:52 pm

Wralandir ~ Mirova Ocean ~ Bijou Cove
Contemplating a Dive
Tuesday ~ April 13 ~ 7962 ~ 12:02:34 a.m.
Felixis Nox: Phantasm

Presently, Felix found himself perched on the starboard side of one among many oceanfaring vessels, looking out upon the dark water with an odd mix of trepidation and comfort. Part of him was incredibly at home here, and would be even more so if her were currently submerged. The other part was, after all, still rather catlike, and the idea of being wet was not his favorite. All the same, the nymph in his blood felt called to the ocean, and as a particularly strong swimmer in either form, joining the frontal assault in this case just made sense.

Without Ai Lin, his magical help was rather sparse, but it wasn’t something he minded so much. He’d grown accustomed to its lack in the past year-and-some. More tragic in his humble opinion was the lack of attractive women generally, something about which he had complained at length, though he doubted anyone really bothered listening to him. He didn’t actually care that much, but, well… making conversation with this lot wasn’t exactly the easiest exercise in the world, and had stretched even his legendary charm a bit thin at points. He didn’t miss her magic that much, but Ai Lin was quite adroit with intelligent conversation. Occasionally, he thought he’d put up with the dryad again if only for want of pleasant exchanges. Everyone here was so… intense. They probably all went to sleep with migraine headaches. He certainly did.

Granted, there was an enchanter in their midst now, and while Nox had nothing against... whatever the guy actually was, he still liked magic no more than he always had, and tended to refuse the help. It didn't really smooth matters over that Saras seemed intent on taking in considerably more information than he gave out. There was power in that, and Felix knew it well. He'd neatly changed the subject every time his personal history was probed into. You never knew who would pay for information on people with reputations like his, especially if they were of the opinion that you were illegally emancipated.

Taking a deep breath, he removed his hands from the ship’s railing, so as to balance there with only his feet. He was already wearing naught but a pair of trousers so as to avoid being weighted down by wet clothes, but he was getting the uncomfortable sensation that his lash-scars were drawing attention, so he tossed his headband back onto the deck with his shirt and sash and jumped, swan-diving into the water with almost no disturbance to its surface.

The ocean was about as cold as he’d expected, but hypothermia was a problem for someone without giant sea-serpents to worry about. Koga’s voice carried vaguely from somewhere, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the creatures arrived if he was already making the battle-speeches. Slicing through the water with sure strokes, Felix drew himself alongside the frontmost boat in the fleet. He had something of a plan for the coming battle, but it wasn’t much of one. He was just lucky he could hold his breath for minutes at a time. Never thought I’d have reason to thank that ancestor, but there you go. Never thought I’d be slaying giant monsters either, so that just shows what I know.

Wralandir – Mirova Ocean – Bijou Cove
Out of Her Element
Tuesday – April 13 – 7962 – 12:04:12 a.m.
Nepthys, The Condemned

The small boat at the back of the fleet rocked gently with the lapping waves of the cove, but Nephthys was too far into her mindspace to register it as she had been previously. This was fortunate, since she’d spent the last few hours seasick enough that she was vomiting over the side of the ship, earning herself more than a few snickers from the crew of hardy seafolk. Of course, the baleful look she’d sent them afterwards had been misinterpreted for vehemence, and none of them had so much as looked at her since. She was used to this, though, and chose not to hold it against them.

Instead, she’d settled herself out of the way, up in the crow’s nest of this particular ship, seated with her back to the mast, legs folded and arms adopting a meditative posture- loose and relaxed on her knees. Because of her poor swimming strength, it was not intelligent for her to serve her usual role in this confrontation, and so instead she was maintaining telepathic content with all of her allies- their thoughts would all filter into her mind, but she would not retain any of the information unless something was directed at her. This way, she would be able to apply her considerable telekinetic talent where necessary, or relay mental messages from one person to another. Additionally, she would have the best grasp of the flow of the battle as a whole, and could therefore direct the other ships as necessary.

Unbeknownst to most, she was also keeping a measure in reserve, to be used only if absolutely necessary. Should a distraction be required, she would assault the mind of one of the creatures directly, hopefully with enough force to possess it temporarily, but otherwise for the mere sake of interrupting it. It was a large risk, and for this reason, she had discussed it only with her small party of fellow legend-slayers, but it was still possible if required of her.

She felt the approach of minds from a great distance, and sent the information to the Captain of the Fat Dragon, who would hopefully inform Koga and through him, the rest. The fewer mental messages she had to send, the better.

Shiva · by **Shiva** on Tue Jun 12, 2012 11:32 pm

Wralandir ~ Mirova Ocean ~ Bijou Cove
Reviewing the Facts ~ Fat Dragon
Tuesday ~ April 13 ~ 7962 ~ 11:59:17 a.m.
Saras Nilin

Aaah. I've made a nuisance of myself again. lamented Saras, clutching his head with both hands. Under his mask was a torn expression, and below his mask was a large tome, open to a new blank page. The abandoned quill reunited with his gloved hand once the thought had passed. Sailor Yusuf Amir. Scruffy black beard. Black, combed back hair. Olive Skinned. Pronounced laugh lines. Son of a wealthy landowner, out on a warship because his father was fed up with his childish antics. Notable events recalled by Amir: Horse thievery, destruction of property, arson. dipping the quil back into the inkwell, he continued to scribble down more information, which eased the dull throbbing in his head. While Amir may not be happy his life story was dragged out and recorded by a strange mercenary, at least he was being immortalized within the tome that it carried along with 90% of the other laborers.

In fact, none of the sailors were too happy with Saras' conduct. Before he had spent more than a minute aboard the Fat Dragon, he had already begun trying to drag information out of the nearest crew member. Most of them had become quite tired of the mercenary's probing. The last drops of ink exited the quill, and Saras stopped scratching against the thick parchment, and stowed the quill away. Placing a stopper over the ink, he blew gently on the ink to cool it before closing the tome. He had already written as much as his current comrades would allow about them onto the tome, though for some it was agonizingly sparse. Nox had refused almost all inquiries about his life, as did Koga. Nepthys had only been very, very brief. Dancing past the important parts, she only gave him the bare minimum. Zokahn had been nice, but judging by the way he acted in battle, he had doubts on whether anything he had written down about the troll was accurate. Jhunvat, he didn't even bother asking. Baldr was famous enough that there were a number of books written about his escapades, and it goes without saying that his daughter would be mentioned at some point. All of which he read.

He had sealed his pack that carried the encyclopedia with a wide array of hydrophobic enchantments, as well as the book itself. Under his watch, the tome would not even be dotted with a drop of water. It would ruin him. Striding above deck with the pack, as he could not trust it to be alone under the ship, he noted that the crew was gathering toward the beacon of light at the bow, the Genasi: Koga Tokugawa. He stood at the entrance, listening to the short speech he made, and tugged at the tip of his hood in disappointment. Note: Tokugawa cannot make a speech. He thought dryly, stowing the thought away to be written down later. Turning his head, he looked out at the sea. The horrors it contained were both evil and destructive, and both those traits would apply to the monsters they would fight very soon. It was a good chance to gather information on them. Very little was known about the creatures of the deep, due to how inaccessable the deep sea was. Despite the long strides humanity and company made, mother nature still had the best natural barriers.

They had discussed it before boarding. Nepthys would control telecommunications. Koga, Nox, Jhunvat would be taking most of the offense. Because Saras knew his Centipede form would be useless in the water, he would be maintaining the enchantments. Zokahn, would use magical bombardment, as Saras was unable to use magic offensively in his humanoid form. Though, he didn't mind if they changed their own. He had already cast multiple enchantments on the fighters, which allowed them to breathe underwater for about fifteen minutes before being forced to surface- and perhaps replenish the enchantment. He had blessed them with enhanced strength, speed, and eyesight. Fighting underwater meant sacrificing hearing, smell, and vision, and vision is especially important. Only Nox refused these enchantments, which Saras eagerly took note of. The diamond on Saras' gauntlet glowed, the only indication that Saras was currently drawing on his vast reserves of strength to keep the enchantments in place for his comrades. Nepthys, if you can, please ask Nox if he is really sure he does not want any enchantments. He nagged, walking toward the side of the boat and noting a swimming form below. He could have shouted, but the water and distance and weather would probably make his words unintelligible to the shapeshifter.

Oran Tarlin · by **Oran Tarlin** on Wed Jun 13, 2012 9:47 pm

Wralandir - Mirova Ocean - Bijou Cove
Winds, Sails, Salt, and Men
Tuesday - April 13 - 7962 - 11:45:12 A. M.
Chanath Godeo

He'd awoken in the shadow of the leaflets, maps, star charts, and scrolls which had sung him to sleep the night before. Beside a still warm mound of melted wax sat a cold plate of gruel and a small glass of some wood aged spirit. Chanath had been advising - rather observing - the captains of the various vessels discussing the paths and supplies of the fleet. Though amongst hardened men he felt effeminate and intrusive, they were used to imperial presence in their meetings and a silent diplomat went unnoticed. Chanath, however, had done all he could when the men left for their quarters, scanning their routes, writing down and double checking their schedules. Besides leading the occasional rousing song, he'd kept away from the grunt sailors - understanding that many of them would die in the coming days. As he'd poured over the supplies, and tried to factor the help of magicks available to them, it only helped to reveal the mathematical certainty of their deaths.

He traced his fingers over a few bars of music he'd written in a past daze. Warming sensations, for the cold water, and he'd stumbled upon a unique serenity there in its melody. He planned to keep close to the harpoons and the cannons and preferred to cast his reverberating buffs from the decks. Since he could no longer parley with nobility or captains, he needed to be useful. He could swim, but he'd be no help in the waters.

Although, Chanath had been hoping to tune his songs to the deep. It was riotous with the echoes of living things, when one looked past the wind and caws of birds which mark a "silent" sea. He planned to find the serpent's kind. Fish and creatures of the black depths would have to rely on hearing to perceive on all sides their strange world, and he figured there was one piercing note capable of stunning the creatures. The trouble was in the reaction - how does one foretell the thoughts of an audience? A calculating beast left dumbstruck would be advantageous, a beast set into a spasming rage would be disastrous - tossing ships like a child's toys. Not that this was not what they faced already.

He straightened the papers, setting them gingerly into chests, and began to swathe himself in the regalia of the sea. Leather and burlap, bags of bolts and the crossbow he abhorred using. He retrieved, with reverence, his flute. He held it gently, but with determination. Holding a flute made him feel chill and hear shattering, and this was more valuable an instrument than any he'd owned. Short, and dull gray, it was unassuming save the glint of mother of pearl by its mouth. A nymph's flute, a sailor's bane, and an item reverberating with that dearest to Chanath - all the money he'd spent to buy it.

To his side it went, sheathed like a better man's sword and he made quick work of his liquor. Out he came to the open air. He saw the Fat Dragon ahead, leading the way, and began to breathe in the sounds of the sea. It was cool, temperate, with a pleasant breeze. He groaned to the magic of the ship, exciting its frequencies and working with less restraint. He'd thrown restraint to be crushed by avalanches and cool air, and his ears perked with more confidence than the elf had ever shown. What use was fear now, even mountains in rage were more forgiving than calm seas.

It's a day for pathetic fallacy, no doubt a storm awaiting.

Ezarael · by **Ezarael** on Sat Jun 16, 2012 11:07 pm

Wralandir - Mirova Ocean - Bijou Cove
Winds, Sails, Salt, and Men
Tuesday - April 13 - 7962 - 12:05:04 A. M.
Jhunvat Rashael

The salt stung Jhunvat’s eyes with a fiery passion only a soon to be raging sea could embody. It had been many years since she had last stepped foot upon a sea-bound vessel, but even despite the absence of its familiarity the Jhunvat warrior was still worthy of her sea legs. Most of her other companions had taken several days to grow accustomed to the swaying of the ship as they sailed amidst the vast blue ocean, but no she. When first she gazed upon their discomfort Rashael tried to make light of the situation by regaling them with jests from the Wyrmrot Marshes, sadly though they never took to her humor as did other Dragon-Kin. She almost expected the non-draconic species of lacking any sense of humor whatsoever, but seeing as how they tended to make jokes of their own this idea seemed absurd. It was true they had a strange sense of humor though, she could never understand why they found the things they did amusing.

Man who cannot walk strong is like wet cat.

Rashael chortled to herself quietly upon remembering the old pun she used on her feline companion, Felix, one of the first few days she saw him stumbling across the deck of his ship. She had to say it, everything was just too perfect to pass up for that moment, but as usual he merely stared at her with a blank look. Maybe it was the Common Tongue which ruined all humor, everything she said made sense in her native tongue, but she did not have the words to explain what it all meant. That must be the problem because Felix did seem to laugh quite frequently; well he did when he was not around her. He always seemed to prefer the company of women smaller than him, which did not seem very possible to the Dragon-Kin warrior who was somewhat short for her species. Short man with knife is like child with stick. Once again her flawless sense of comedic timing had failed upon the man when they first had met.

That was some time ago though, and things had seemed to lighten up between all of them, but even so she had been shocked to discover what kind of men had supposedly accompanied her father, Baldr the Great, on quests. She had known that the other races were less learned in the ways of honor and integrity but sometimes Rashael was shocked at how blatantly ignorant they could be. Both Koga and Felix were less than honorable men and she had to come into conflict with them several times to prevent them from dishonoring themselves and the group unknowingly. How her father could have put up with such childish behavior was beyond her realm of understanding, but maybe she would have to come to that point if she was going to follow in his capacious shadow. All in the entire group was interesting though, and they were making some headway in harmonizing with each other. One of the major problems was the so called leader Koga; the man had no sense of leadership besides charging in to a fight whenever he could. Rasha, one who cannot lead is also one who cannot follow, both frames of mind must come into agreement when you come to lead the clan. Had it truly been that long since she had seen her father?

A clap of thunder off in the distance brought Rashael back into the here and now, where the group of “Legend Slayers” had set out on their first serious adventure in some time from what she could gather. Koga was located on the Fat Dragon, the ship leading the vanguard of the fleet, Felix was located on that ship’s starboard neighbor, and she was on the port-side ship. Hopefully the three of them could form an offensive spear which would also ensure the safety of the group should one’s ship be destroyed, hopefully none were eaten and that their buffs would enable them to return to battle above the sea soon enough. She did not fear the sea, fear was not an option to the Dragon-Kin, but neither did she entirely trust it. If there was one thing she had learned whilst hunting many an animal was that fighting a beast on its hunting grounds or in its lair was one of the worst mistakes you could make, and to a sea serpent the entire ocean was its domain.

Nephy, began Rashael, she could never pronounce the horned-girl’s name correctly, you see storm? Mother always say men have no luck with lightning, it is known. She even mentally giggled to emphasize the raucous joke she was making. Maybe the girl would understand, but then again maybe not. From what she could tell by the looks she thought she noticed Nepthys giving her every now and again she might not know why a man would be in danger of being struck by lightning.

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