Baranthia Time: The Month of Ruan, 5056 Roleplay Time: The Month of January, 2006 The Monthly Baranthian: Please visit to get updates on each kingdom. Shout Box 1/9/06: Everyone's getting involved with The Kidnapping, so that's awesome! There are a couple of threads you may want to check out: The Kidnapping and Summon The Brotherhood. Other than that, I think we're off to a good start :) 12/30/05: The Runath Royal Feast is up and running! Anyone traveling through can visit all month long!

[Firnae Azadum]

The sun rose with brilliant intensity, bathing the cold earth in a shower of warmth and light. In the distance, the towering mountains of the Viruse range shimmered breathtakingly as the first rays of the winter sun illuminated the icy slopes. For all they knew, there might have been a storm raging mercilessly upon the colossal peaks, yet from their vantage point, it was nothing but the Lord’s splendour and glory manifesting on his earth. Indeed, to Firnæ, as he rode upon the sturdy warhorse wrapped in cloaks, it was as if nothing could ever go wrong in the world. The air was fresh, crisp, and though the night had been bitterly cold, the sun brought renewed warmth and even the icy winds had died down to absolute stillness.

The road itself was no less of a beauty. Cutting through deep forests and glades, its meandered under the backdrop of icy peaks and fell into snow covered valleys, which themselves seemed to stretch on for miles. Trees of fir and oak, along with the odd evergreen, were leaden with snow and ice, their branches drooping under the weight of snow freshly fallen. It was deep within one of these cold forests the group had first stopped, with Firnæ having to offer his morning prayers. After his rituals, which he did in front of the others, the priest silently cooked a breakfast of oats and cheese, which was complimented by some bread which was give to them at the Church.

The reason Firnæ whished to push on was simple. There were no hospitable towns for a few more miles and considering recent weather reports, the days were be far more prone to blizzards than the crystal clear nights of Fordin. There was also the issue of reaching Aunville before it was overrun by a hoard of Goblins and their equally foul kin. He felt somewhat pressured to be a good host, but had ridden in mostly silence for the duration of the night, the only time he did choose to speak being the times when he was spoken to or when he needed to direct them.

“We need to push on,” he said quietly as he tidied up the camp. "This place isn't very safe" As clear and fresh as the air had been, there was still a lingering trace of dread over the campsite and Firnæ could not bring himself to even try to guess its reason. Bandits had been spotted upon these roads and with the illegal slave trades having in Gavan, there was no shortage of highwaymen seeking to rob and kidnap innocent travellers. Perhaps Anberlin, with his experience, had noted the shadows in the woods close to where they ate and packed-up. Perhaps the man had noticed a strange feeling of being tailed throughout the night. Surely there had been noises of horses, only to be stifled as soon as one of the party turned to see the source of the noise.

But it was Firnæ who was acting strangely, his back arched awkwardly and his quarterstaff never far from reach. Surely the Priestess, with whom he had shared the most words the previous night, would have found that a tad bit suspicious to say the least…

ooc: This thread is still open for joining. Please PM any one of us and we'll help you in. Thanks.

This post has been edited by Firnae Azadum on Jan 30 2006, 11:14 AM

[Anberlin Savven]

"You've hit a new low, Anberlin."

"Shut up."

"Taking jobs from Believers?"

"You hard of hearing?"

"That's not like you."

"Forthen, one more word and-"

"Threaten me all you want, Anberlin. I'm simply stating the obvious, which you obviously know."

"Just because I know it does not mean I want to hear it."

Forthen seemed to be hesitant as he washed the glass, but spoke.

"It'll be good for you Anb-"

Anberlin's grotesque figured stiffended.

"You're taking their side!?" Anberlin grabbed the knife he was using and slammed it into the counter. Forthen was glad no one else was in the Inn at the time, or else he would have scared some. Very rarely Forthen was scared.

"Yes, Anberlin, I am."

"Why!? I thought we were friends!" Anberlin hissed, his face pulling in closer to Forthen's.

"Exactly. You're hatred has gone to deep. I'm worried about you. I am sorry about what happened to your family, but the Gods work in mysterious ways."

Anberlin snorted. "Mysterious? Murderous! He killed my-"

"Are you ready, Mr. Savven?" Firnæ had arrived, and Anberlin shot a glance at him, then back to Forthen. He nodded, and then walked out the doorway.
--------------------

The entire time, they were being followed. Savven knew it. But he wanted a chance to show off, so he never suggested a different route, or the thousands of backways they could have taken. He wanted to show their money was worth it. That, and...

And well...

He couldn't believe Forthen was for the Believers!

Anberlin didn't talk a single word accept maybe some directions, or what to do if some kind of attack were to happen. But, even then, they were simple, basic words that were huffed out of his gruff voice. But, he knew that there were bandit. He heard the horses, even heard the silent, yet harsh whispers they hissed to their horses as they neighed. But, finally, they set camp, and Anberlin knew they wouldn't attack. No, not yet. Maybe they wouldn't attack because they saw Anberlin. Maybe they were smart.

“We need to push on, This place isn't very safe" Anberlin looked about. They were coming soon.

Maybe they were going to try and simply pass by.

"No where is safe, Heathen." He growled. But, he heard the running footsteps.

Looks like they weren't smart.

"Wench, Fool, grab your weapons." He stood up quickly, and within a flash, if not quicker, both of his shortswords were drawn, and he stood ready. "We cannot out run them, we face them. Wench, protect the Eunich and I will take those charge stupidly. Don't question me, just do it." Growling, he was waiting for the bandit. "Soon, and very soon." And they were there. "Bah! Ragtag!" Letting out a war cry which could scare the dead, the Mercenary ran.

It was as if the very Gods or Goddesses that he had despised so much, had given him the blessings of skill, speed, and strength. Precision came with practice. The two blades had cut down two men within a single stroke. Only a few had gotten passed Anberlin towards Firnæ, and even more had run backwards. The monster was unleashed, and red was staining his clothing, the ground, and the blades he wielded so fiercly.

[Valin Naiilo]

Neither the bandits nor the small group of travellers had gone unnoticed in this forest, despite how quiet and empty everything seemed to be. The trees hid many things however, most important among them(for the moment at least) being an elf. An Unusual sight here in Fordin, especially this far from the mountains. Normally, elves visiting Fordin did not wander so far from their homeland. Valin, however, was not visiting. But that was beside the point.

He had been following the bandits for a couple days now, remaining out of sight. They had given him no reason to attack yet, but he heard a few of them talking earlier that morning about a group of travellers that their scout had spotted in the night. Valin had investigated the sleeping group before the bandits packed up, and had returned to stalking the troupe of outlaws when they got moving again. Now though, he also scouted ahead.

He saw the group of travellers before the bandits did, but he had no time to warn them. The more rough-looking of the three had already sensed that the group was being followed anyway, so Valin's warning would have been relatively pointless.

He did not return to the bandits after that. Rather, he spent the next hour or so among the tree limbs not too far from the group of three. There, he waited patiently for the bandits to finally reach the group. And reach it they did at last.

"Bah! Ragtag!"

Valin smiled slightly at the unusual battle-cry and nocked an arrow to his bow. Several bandits passed by the raging human and raced towards the other two, who did not seem so excited about the fight as the now-bloody one.

The first bandit to reach the two raised his sword, smirking as he rushed within feet of his female target. Before he could swing though, he suddenly stopped. A green-fletched arrow had appeared in his neck. For a moment, the bandit stood stunned, then he slowly toppled over sideways, dead.

[Firnae Azadum]

The quarterstaff was at his side in an instant. Held threateningly as two of the bandits breached Anberlin’s protection, the staff felt like a feather in the capable hands of its owner. Though he would never dare kill a man on purpose, the alert way in which the priest stood spoke volumes about his proficiency with the weapon. The wooden object had been forced upon him early in his priest’s training and Firnæ could not remember a time when he hadn’t found it useful. Amazingly light and carved with the symbols of the Lord, the staff was one of the few earthly possessions a priest was allowed. Hours of training had reinforced its usefulness and Firnæ could easily render a man senseless without causing too much permanent damage.

Stepping in front of Aideen in hopes of offering her another wall of protection, Firnæ tensed as the men tore across the clearing, their cruel weapons gleaming in the midday sun. Having fought in a few skirmishes before, the priest knew their intentions almost as well as he knew his own. They would try to swiftly kill the men and keep the woman. Having robbed whatever they could find, they’d have their way with the prisoner and kill her before riding off. It would be simple, fast and impressively deadly. The first of the men, a tall balding bandit with a few visible scars, was mere feet from Firnæ when he toppled head first onto the ground. As he died upon the cold earth, an arrow jutting from his back, Firnæ’s eyes flew to the trees in hopes of finding out who had fashioned this unexpected help.

He could afford to search the branches for long as the first of the rest approached with more caution. For a brief second, Firnæ realised they feared two things. The first was the mysterious stranger lurking in the trees, while the second was the strange feeling men get when attacking a man of God. True, they were ruffians and highwaymen, but many also possessed some sort of faith and could recognise a Priest when they saw one. Killing Firnæ, at least in a few eyes, was almost immediate reasoning for eternal damnation. Their hesitation didn’t linger for long as another one took a swipe towards the Priest with his jagged sword. Firnæ, with his exceptionally deft movements, side swept quickly, the sword barely brazing his robes. Rounding with a swipe of his own, the staff crashed against the man’s neck, rendering him almost immediately unconscious.

“Forgive me” the Priest muttered as the man sunk to the ground. Lifting his eyes towards the next bandit who neared, Firnæ sighed and shook his head. “You are better than this, my brother.” Glaring back, the redheaded outlaw spat at the Cleric before charging in. Meeting the same fate as the one before him, the man went down swiftly enough, but managed to prick Firnæ’s arm while in combat. With the sleeve of his robe stained red, the priest still stood defiant, his cold eyes surveying the rest with deep animosity.

[Valin Naiilo]

Valin watched his target go down with satisfaction at his aim. Not a centimeter off from the spot he had chosen for the deadly projectile. He did not enjoy killing, but he was not one to attempt to make such people see the error of their ways in this sort of situation either. The priest, it seemed, was somewhat more merciful.

The elf withdrew a second arrow from his quiver and set the notched end gently against his bowstring. The priest seemed to be handling himself well, knocking two of the outlaws to the ground as he watched. Perhaps this group didn't need his help after all. Valin's eyes flickered towards the most aggressive of the three. He certainly needed no assistance.

The battle did not slow, but Valin refrained from shooting just yet. He had a good position here, and none of the bandits had yet guessed his position. Better to wait for another shot than to fire continuously and risk being found too early. The opportunity to cease his impassive watching was granted shortly. Over the din of battle, Valin heard a winch turning and a rather loud click. He shifted position, looking back along the path. One of the bandits held a heavy crossbow, which he had just finished loading and was aiming at the sword-wielding combatant. As the bandit raised the crossbow and aimed it towards the other human, Valin's arrow flew from his bow, striking the man in the temple. The crossbow fell to the ground, shooting off its projectile harmlessly into a nearby tree root, and the man fell sieways against the tree a moment later.

Valin nocked a third arrow to his bow, but he knew that he would probably not be able to get off more than one shot now. Three of the raiders had broken off from the main group and were scanning the trees, looking to confirm the spot that Valin's arrow had come from. The elf paused to consider his options. He could move away and fire from a different location to confuse them, but that would be time consuming, and he was not likely to fine so convenient a perch as this. On the other hand, he would surely draw the attention of the three - now four - bandits waiting for him to fire again.

Valin took the second option. His next arrow found its mark in a second crossbow-wielding bandit, and the four waiting combatants pinpointed Valin's location almost immediately. With practiced calm, Valin placed his bow on the branch, hidden from eyes from below by the leaves, and moved away from his location on the branch. If they wanted to fight in close combat, it would be on his terms.

The bandits, better suited to fighting on the open road than in the partial cover of the trees, slowed their charge as they went further into the forest. The road could still be seen from where they were, giving them some comfort, but the shifting shadows made by blowing leaves put them on edge. They stood in a sort of square, back to back and guarding all sides, as they reached the place where they were certain the arrows had come from.

Unseen, Valin watched the group from his hidden spot in a tangle of vines. He glanced back behind him to be certain of his planed route, then reached up to shake one of the branches near him. The bandits broke their formation, each rushing to get to the archer that had just revealed his position. They felt that they held the advantage, what with the hidden opponent being cornered in a tightly-grouped bunch of birch trees. They were in Valin's element now though.

Valin's steps were silent, swift, and confident. He slipped between the birch trees, uncaring as to whether or not he made any noise, and away along part of a game trail he'd spotted earlier. He circled around quickly, and by the time the bandits had begun searching for their frustrating foe, he was blocking the exit to the copse of birch trees. Hidden, of course, the gleam of his unsheathed sword masked under a fold of his cloak. The first bandit to exit the trees fell silently, grasping at the ear-to-ear cut in his throat. The second to step out was more prepared, and sprang to the side as Valin attacked.

Valin did not hesitate to spring into combat as soon as his position had been discovered. He parried a thrust aimed towards his chest, knocking the blade off to the side and returning the thrust. His aim was true, but a motion off to his right warned of him of a more immediate concern. He dove off to the side, his sword tip barely nicking the collarbone of his intended target. He rolled and came up in a crouch, his longsword in his right hand and short sword in his left. Three bandits now faced him. The one he had cut bore a heavy sword, another had an axe, and the third wielded a sword and shield.

All three rushed him, and Valin ducked away from the axe of the first in line. He had an opening to attack, but the double-attack of the second two foiled it as he had to block both oncoming swords. He knocked the sword arm of one bandit wide, but his attack was stopped by the human's metal shield and Valin had to duck away from another axe-cut that would have separated his head from his shoulders. The bandit spun and attempted a backswing, which Valin also dodged. This last wild attack put the bandit off balance, and Valin promptly took advantage of that moment to put his short sword nearly between his ribs.

The remaining two still came at him though, and Valin had little time to prepare for another assault. The first couple of sword-thrusts had him defensive and on his heels, but the teamwork of the remaining two fell apart quickly. Two swords attacked as one, and Valin knocked one wide while locking hilts with the second. The bandit - the one he'd wounded before - smirked as he forced the apparently weak-armed elf against a tree, but the smirk faded away as he became aware of a stinging in his belly. He'd forgotten all about the short sword, and Valin had let him impale himself on the blade.

With that bandit down, the fight became a one-on-one battle between Valin and the swoed-and-shield bearing opponent. The two sized each other up for a few seconds, launching cautious strikes, before the first real attack came from Valin. He feinted towards the man's left, aiming to open a hole in his defences by making him draw his shield aside. Instead of moving the shield however, the bandit stepped sideways, allowing the full force of the attack to land in the center of the shield. Valin withdrew the attack, parrying a return thrust from the bandit.

It was at this time that he realized where he was. During the fight, the combatants had moved around quite a bit. Valin now found himself nearly out of the woods. Now that would have been good in a figurative sense, but this was quite literal, and with a score of bandits at his back it was also quite potentially deadly. The bandit facing him realized the advantage and did something that Valin did not expect. He raised his shield, held his sword out to the side, and charged directly at the elf. He was not attempting to attack. The bullrush was meant to either push Valin out of the cover of the trees or bowl him over. Valin backed up, stepping to the side to avoid the onrushing bandit, and found a place for his short sword in the back of the man's neck.

He spun to face the rest of the bandits, blades positioned in front and slightly to either side of him. A quick glance revealed his position. He was already half-surrounded by bandits, and in the previously clear area between the priest and the raging human fighter. Out of range of immediate help, in any case. He bent his knees slightly, lowering himself a bit towards the ground in preparation for the onrush of attackers.