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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Rorqale was walking just ahead of Shira inspecting his sword closely. It was nicked, and damaged and even bent badly beyond repair, as he thought, for any normal blacksmith, but surely the dwarves could do something with it. He forced it back into it's sheath and looked back to Shira and smiled, “Bet you couldn’t think to be in a worst position then having to do this mission with me?” he commented sincerely. “It’s not going to be pleasant, bloody dwarves are the most stubborn, unwelcoming and inhospitable “friends” that we could think to have on Apson, so i've heard anyway!” Rorqale took a deep breath of the crisp air that filled this morning “better make the most of this!” he said looking to the raising sun, “last we will see of her in a while!” he chuckled pointing his hirsute hand at the sun. He suddenly stopped sharp, as if frozen by some magical force.
At length he spoke again, “Shira,” he said turning slowly, “where is the dwarfish region? I’ve never travelled to their home.” Rorqale started to blush slightly, in all the elation of leaving the encampment, he had totally forgotten about having to find the location of the dwarves!
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Oct/27/2004, 4:22 pm
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SatinNLace
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Shira was in deep thought as she communicated with her brother, Stephanus. It was the only one of her kind that she occasionally kept in contact with. He held on to a possession that was close to Shira’s heart. It would now soon be in her hands.
“I happen to find you the best company, Rorqale. As for the dwarfish region, worry not, for we are headed in the right direction.”
Just then a giant eagle flew over them. The land grew dark in its shadow. Rorqale drew his damaged sword in alarm.
“No Rorqale!” Shira yelled. “He is a friend”
The eagle landed and Shira greeted him.
“His name is Volaticus. He’s been a guardian and friend of my people for hundreds of years.” Shira smiled as Rorqale relaxed, and she gently stroked the right wing of Volaticus.
“He comes bearing you a gift my dear, Rorqale.”
Volaticus opened his beak, and inside was a great and mighty sword. The handle was made of solid gold and the blade was 5 feet long and double edged. The sunlight reflected off of the steel of the blade, displaying it in all its glory.
“I had this sword made for a great man many years ago. He was a fierce warrior and a loving king to his people. It has been blessed by the Gods and holds powers that are only revealed when the owner proves to be one of truth and Justice. I now hand this sword to you my friend.”
Shira held out the sword to Rorqale and smiled warmly, but inside she fought hard to hold back the tears that wanted to flow. The sword had once belonged to her slained lover, Arcturus.
Post Edited By SatinNLace, Oct/29/2004, 5:22 pm
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Oct/29/2004, 5:21 pm
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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Rorqale smiled at Shira, he failed to see the importance attached to this sword on face value. Sure it looked spectacular, and was powerfully built, but if it wasn’t for the words that Shira used when giving him the sword, and the immense emotion that she coupled the giving of it with, Rorqale would have had second thoughts about taking the sword, but he did take it, for one he needed a weapon on this quest, at least until the Tri-Blade was repaired anyhow. He looked at the sword that was amazingly light considering the metals it was made of. After some marveling Rorqale took off his traveling robe, and revealed a large buckle that went across his chest, and joined together with a leather sheath that rested on his back. As the sword from Shira was so large, it couldn’t hang at Rorqale’s side without dragging at the floor, and the spare sheath on his back made a perfect home for his new weapon.
Rorqale now stood, large and powerful sword on his back, again covered by his traveling robe, and swift and agile Tri-Blade, damaged, but still at his side, and also covered by his robe. Rorqale turned to Shira and spoke, “Shira…I thank you for this sword, but I must ask, what is it’s name? I can’t have a weapon that has no name!” he grinned.
Suddenly the eagle that was beside Rorqale and Shira, with one single, powerful flapping of it’s wings, was off. It swooped high into the air until it was just a dot, but was still just visible in the sparkling morning sky.
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Oct/29/2004, 7:00 pm
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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Rorqale walked porously towards the mountains that lay in the distance, Shira was walking just behind to the left, apparently in some kind of trace. Her eyes looked empty, and were focusing at nothing in particular. Her head was bowed low, so low that her back hunched and shoulders sagged. Her legs barely moved as she walked, not bending, slow melodic movements, almost drifting effortlessly, her overall appearance and sombre progress could best be described as “ghost like”, and she didn’t say a word.
Rorqale turned back towards the mountains and pulled his robe over his chest as a bitter wind swirled suddenly around in the valley, within a few more moments and grey clouds had started to gather over the mountains in the distance. It was obvious that a rain storm had brewed, or been brewed, over the mountains, it was now just whether it was going to head towards the companions as they travelled, away from them, or just hang ominously over they goal.
Several hours of relentless travelling passed, slow, but steady progress. No enemies had been encountered; yet, as a matter of fact very little life at all had been seen despite the apparent lush of the surrounding greenery. At great length, and after several miles of walking, Rorqale at last decided to stop, almost the exact second that he turned to Shira and spoke, she unravelled her sleeping robe, and was asleep within moments. Rorqale eat scantily that night, dried and rapidly staling bread, and two pieces of fruit, one browning apple and one softening pomegranate, after a few swigs of water, and content, he settled under his robe, and laid back to admire the evening stars.
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Dec/27/2004, 11:19 pm
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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Suddenly, just as Rorqale was drifting off to sleep, he heard a shuffling noise to his left. Not wanting to chance it he rolled quietly onto his knees, push off the floor and unsheathed the damaged Tri-Blade. It was now the dead of night, pitch black, but something, or someone, was lurking in the shadows.
“Shira, Shira” Rorqale hissed through gritted teeth, but there was no reply…”Shira, wake….” But before Rorqale could finish his sentence he was buffeted roughly to the floor by a large a powerful being. He rolled for several metres towards where Shira had been laying, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Unable to dwell on this, Rorqale spun up from the floor with unbelievable speed and agility, swiping with the Tri-Blade at the general direction of his foe. The blade clattered with a crescendo of noise against some kind of metal, sparks flew, noise echoed but the Tri-Bald was blunt, and with no penetration from the sword Rorqale became off balance by the unpredictable reverberations that came from it instead of it’s cutting prowess. The being again attacked the unstable Rorqale. It was obvious that this enemy had no weapon, it was punching and kicking, throwing his head, elbows and every other possible part of his body at Rorqale. But even though the being wasn’t armed, it was heavily clad in some kind of metal, and this was like being hit by a stone hammer, for the being was massive, bigger than Rorqale, and obviously strong.
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Dec/29/2004, 4:44 pm
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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Rorqale rolled around the floor, trying invein to avoid the flaying arms of his foe. Then in a moment of inspiration he spun onto his back, flipped to his feet, unsheathed the unused Purgatio, and with one single graceful strike, the foe that stood before Rorqale the Great was slain in two. Two separate thuds hit the floor, the final one echoing slowing into nothing, and silence was again all that remained.
Rorqale resheathed Purgatio, picked the Tri-Blade from the floor and done the same to that, before moving across the grass to where his felled enemy lay. Kneeling, Rorqale turned the decapitated head to look into it’s eyes, this enemy was new to the travelled Rorqale, it was obviously Troll like or descended from Trolls, it had think grey-scale-like skin, that was so tough only the sharpest sword could penetrate it. Rorqale glanced to the body, matter of fact it wasn’t clad in armour, but was wearing all manor of jewels and trinkets on it’s arms and legs, and a think metal collar around the neck, just below where it had be severed from the head, which had a large nick in it, presumably where the Tri-Blade had struck with Rorqale initial blow.
After some time observing this enemy, and a brief time searching the surrounding area for any more that might be lurking in the shadows, Rorqale turned his attention to Shira, and in particular her wereabouts.
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Dec/29/2004, 4:53 pm
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Kev2012
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Re: Mission #2c: *Anvils In Stone*
Rorqale looked as best he could around the land, an hour passed and the sun slowly began to peak it’s head over the horizon. Shira had gone, Rorqale wasn’t sure if she were dead, lost, or taken prison by another one of those foul beasts, but what he was sure of was he had to make a decision. Go on without her to complete the overall goal, or search for Shira here, and fail, ultimately meaning death to all anyway. Eventually and after much deliberating, Rorqale bent onto his knee, clasped his hands together and spoke, almost in a whisper.
“Please forgive me gods, but the good of the land, and the many, must be put before the good of one, of one of you. Please look out for me on this quest. I can’t do it alone, I need to be guided, and watched, and protected.”
Rorqale rose to his feet, alone, after a moment where he felt on trail before all the gods of the sky, he was now alone again. Suddenly, and without warning or the usual slow melodic pace, the sun’s rays filled most of the land, the path was clear, the storm remained over the mounting in the distance but all around the warmth of even this most early of suns was apparent. Ahead of Rorqale, a dear, just one, elderly, maybe even injured, stopped in the light grass. It grazed silently for a moment, then spotted Rorqale, it bowed its head, but other than that didn’t move. Rorqale was hungry; he had only a scant meal the previous night. Slowly he pulled his throwing dagger from his side. The metal glistened in the sun, the dear’s eyes shone and reflected it’s rays, but it just remained rooted to the spot, head bowed and eyes fixed on Rorqale.
Rorqale raised his hand, and with a single, effortless movement down the dagger had flown through the air and had struck the Dear directly in it’s heart, it fell instantly, eyes closed. Rorqale rushed to the fallen beast, it wasn’t after all injured, or old, it looked in pristine health, and was full of meat, probably the most meat Rorqale had ever found on an animal. He eat all he could that morning, and wrapped as much as he could in cloth, doused in salt, then placed in his travelling bag. The rest of the carcase of this animal Rorqale buried, deep into the groud, and place two sticks where it lay, and inscribed on this patch of land,
“Thank you, lords”
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Jan/6/2005, 2:07 pm
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