Minelords & Monsters RP THREAD

Daemon

After walking for some time, Talon comes across a road cutting, east to west, through the forest.
He looks in each direction, checking for travellers but it seems no-one has used this road recently. He starts across the road, finding his pace quickening as he goes. Slowing to a stop, he reaches the comfort of the trees and checks the road once more. Satisfied that no-one saw him, Talon continues deeper into the trees.
Then Talon sees something unusual: a cloaked figure standing amongst some unnaturally arranged stones. Talon hides behind a tree, wrapping his cloak around himself and whispers a few words to Skraw. Skraw takes flight and, while the figure is distracted by the stones, circles around to land on a branch a little way in front of the figure. Skraw rustles some leaves in an attempt to attract the figure's attention.

Mish

"I am Bestaba Hos-Vernanda on a "quest for knowledge", sent by the Great Academy of Magic and Arts. I am an assistant to Goci Le-Fieras, and maid many researches of my own. I am an expert of the creation manipulation and properties of twin-portals, and would like to make a fair trade of knowledge between your and my magical-knowledge centers. I am willing to sign all the needed papers so that you be able to would allow me to have a look at the different facilities, and talk to the different experts. I hope you follow the traditions of those engagements of knowledge. So, what paper comes first?"

Mesmeratio

"Papers? Uhhh, right, papers." The officer shuffles to the desk, chicken in hand. He rummages through piles of paperwork never filled, explaining "You know, you're the first visitor to actually ask for paperwork. Most of them are scared of the temple getting nose of their visit, and we understand it, looking at how they treat unknown mages... Ah, got it!" He holds up a large scroll. "Just read this and fill it out, I guess you even want us to file it?"

Glunnator

Obsidian stumbles in, curiosity leading him by the nose and his eyes taking in as much as possible. Rock trolls being initially nocturnal, his eyes are quick to adjust to the darkness. Obsidian follows the elf's lead, taking in as much of the environment as possible.

Windy

Nachr thanks Fabrice quietly and walks out of the Inn. Drawing an arc around the square they're standing on, Nachr explains to Fabrice,

"So Fabrice, I think I left my shortbow hanging on one of the oak trees in this square and it might still be there. I'll go around clockwise looking through the branches, can you do likewise in the anti-clockwise direction?"

Pausing briefly, Nachr adds,

"Take care to look around for cart tracks as well, will you?"

As Nachr approaches the Mapmaker's, he glances at the templars, who seem to be talking among themselves, looking towards the towers of the Mage's guild. He decides to abandon the rest of his search and trots towards them.

"Greetings, knights!"

he shouts towards the templars. The centaur tries to make his presence known, tapping the cobble as he walks.

Koozma

The closer the hooded figure got to the odd stones, the louder the odd hum got, and as she started to clear the trees she stopped, looking around at the rock display, feeling uneasy. She walked a little more around them, keeping a great distance and seems to grow smaller as she pulls the cloak around tighter, as if trying to keep out a draft or similar. Finally backing away, the cloaked figure continuing going west and towards the road, but still looking back around constantly at the strange rocks.

She suddenly stopped as a new sound was heard and looked up at the rustle of feathers, hood falling back enough to show a pail face but little else. Her demeanor changed suddenly at the sight of the hawk, shifting almost defensively and starts to walk a widening circle round from the birds perch in the tree above, head in side of hood constantly looking to where she was going, and back to the bird, feeling it watching while trying to put distance between them. Unsure if the hawk had taken flight again or not, she skittered down the side of a narrow ditch where a small stream once ran in wetter times, tall grasses growing up around provided a little cover and hunkered down low and tight, looking around and trying to say out of sight against the pitch.

Daemon

Seeing the figure dart off to the west, Talon rounds the tree, raising his arm into the arm and dropping to the ground. Recognising the sign, Skraw flies up and begins tracking the figure from above. Talon, with cloak wrapped fully around him so that one could mistake him for a mound of earth, begins crawling westward. Keeping his eyes on Skraw through the small gaps in his hood, he follows the hawk at a relatively fast pace for a crawl.
Then Skraw started circling just above the treeline so the he couldn't be seen from directly below. Grinning, Talon pushes onwards with a more hurried pace. As Talon approached the area where he knew Skraw was circling (though he couldn't see the bird now) he slowed and almost silently approached through the tall grass.
Skraw flutters down and perches on a branch within sight of the figure. Talon, now on the lip of the ditch, a little west of the figure, readies himself for its next move.

Mesmeratio

As Nachr trots towards the templars, Fabrice scurries off. The left templar just stares at you in a relaxed manner. The right templar, however, seems even more nervous than he was, this clearly isn't his day. "What now? ...agh! Oh for heaven's sake, did the Archmage throw a party again?!"

-

The inside of the mages' tower is quite dark, but there are little lights floating everywhere. The strange purple plant grows inside of the tower too, and you can see it grows all the way to the upper floors. To the left and right are doorways without doors, leading to hallways. You can see some closed doors in the hallways, but not much more. There are some suits of armor standing before stairs leading down. There are no visible stairs up in this room.

The elf walks towards the hallway on the right, while attempting small-talk. "So, what is the reason of your visit Mr...?"

-

Note on the odd stones, whenever you get within 15 feet, the humming sound disappears, together with any sound, it feels as if your eardrums malfunction. Also, colors seem to fade from the world, and a slight tension can be felt, but nothing happens, and whenever you step out of this perimeter, everything returns to normal.

Windy

Nachr eyes the templars with distrust, his gaze approaching at an angle. The centaur speaks to the templar on the right asking:

"I'm looking for an old lady called Ravaella, she was here just a moment ago but seems to have vanished! She was pulling a cart, and there were children around her singing songs as they teased the poor soul. She helped me much and I owe her my gratitude."

then with a brief pause he says,

"I'm also looking for an old shortbow... I left it hanging on one of the trees here. Did you see anyone take it?"

and now hushed, but almost barking at the templar, Nachr speaks saying,

"and who in their right mind thought it would be wise to escort a rock troll into the guild?!"

With a slight mischievous grin, Nachr stands tall and addresses the two templars, mere children compared to an adult centaur at his full height.

http://i.imgur.com/UD9Renh.jpg<center><small>Thank you, @Koozma!</small></center>

"Make it known to the archmage that Nachr the lone, centaur of the wilderness is here. He comes at a time of great need, and must have his questions answered."

with that, Nachr looks across the square at Fabrice, hoping to recover his bow before any further incident.

Glunnator

Despite the plentiful torches and things, Obsidian feels quite at home in the wide, to him almost cave-like expanse. He takes a while to process the question.
After a while of silent staring and plodding after the elf, he replies bluntly, "Dis big birdy told me to come."

Mesmeratio

[Torches? more like little whisp-like lights floating everywhere being slightly luminescent in all kinds of colours. There are, however, torches in the hallway, so don't worry.]

-

"A big bird ey? the elf seems even more interested than he already was "And what did this bird look like?" He walks through the hallway, and takes the second door to the right.

-

Fabrice seems to be in a light struggle with the brats from earlier, who have the shortbow but do not seem to be willing to return it, running away from Fabrice. The Mapmaker comes crawling out of the inn, presuming it to be a fun game, he hops towards them. The brats turn their attention to the mapmaker and point and laugh at him. At that moment a large individual with a short square beard, large mustache and an apron comes walking out of the inn, struts towards the brat with the shortbow, pimp-slaps him, grabs the shortbow, gives the bow to Fabrice and continues to give the brats a yelling. Fabrice wastes no time to run to Nachr with the bow. The patron, who spectated from the doorway, cannot help but grin.

-

The left templar seems to be watching the same spectacle as Nachr, while the right templar is busy answering Nachr's questions. "Ravaella? Ehr- I have no clue where she lives, but-" the left templar interrupts "She lives with the old gardener in the temple quarters, they've been a couple for centuries now." The right templar continues "Ah yes, as for the rock troll, the curiosity of the mages is stupefying, no way they'll let that creature pass without examining his every crevasse. But don't come to me when they all get eaten, no sir, I tol-". The left templar interrupts again "Larger chance the archmage accidentally eats him than the other way around". You can see the right templar, though his face is obscured, stares at the left templar blankly. "Right. Ehr. I'll just see what I can do with you visiting the archmage, just a-" Another interrupt, this time from another source "No need".

Behind the fence stands a tall man in a half-open purple dressing gown with silver stars embroidered on it. His beard and mustache are enormously long, reaching his waist, and you can see a purple ribbon halfway his beard. He has long white hair, combed back, friendly blue eyes, a long straight nose, a good upright stature, and overall makes a brisk impression. He is also wearing a party-hat.

Windy

Nachr is pleasantly surprised at the appearance of the apron-ed man. As he sees the situation resolve itself, the centaur starts grinning and makes a mental note about asking for his muscular helper back at the inn. "A pleasant town this might be, or at least a town with a pleasant inn..." he murmurs.

Seeing Fabrice run over to his side of the square, Nachr reaches down to pick the boy up and places him on his back. Relieving the boy of the bow, Nachr raises it and waves towards the inn's patron. As he does so he hears the right templar say "they've been a couple for centuries now".

Just a note to the reader before we continue.

Centaurs are fierce and proud creatures, only ever working with the elves, and none else. They tend to live in temperate forests as far away from human and dwarf civilisation. Association with such lesser species is definitely not desired. Now and then a young wayward centaur may dawdle off to speak with human-folk at the perimeters of the forests, but social pressure among the solemn half-men would put sense back into his head before long. One cannot stay a child for too long afterall.

The pride of an adult centaur warrior is such that one will never allow any other being to stand taller than oneself. This is the prime reason centaurs are well versed in the art of archery. If a bird flies above a troop of centaurs, they are guaranteed to be shot down within the blink of an eye. Their pride does not allow for them to be treated like animals such as horses and cows either. Thus, centaurs never bear any creature as a burden on their backs.

Nachr wonders to himself and thinks, "Centuries! Only the great Crysdahr lived more than two hundred years, and he was no man. Either these humans exaggerate too much, or this Ravaella holds wisdom beyond the ages of men!"

His thoughts seem to block out the templars' talk though this does not last too long. Nachr feels a strong presence approaching and as he looks up, the bobble of an elaborate party hat brushes his nose. The centaur gives out an involuntary sneeze and backs away a step to view this stranger.

Nachr stares at this strangely dressed man and remembers his request. Alas! Nachr had not been meaning to meet the archmage at all! Trying to have his ways with officers of the law had not proved to be very wise. Nachr hangs his bow behind his back promptly and while scanning the tall purple man's features speaks,

"Good evening, mister...?"

Glunnator

Obsidian pauses in the hallway briefly to consider the question, then stretches his bulky troll arms as wide as he can, "About dis big."
He then hurries to catch up with the elf, adding, "An' then it became a human."

Koozma

She remained motionless, even pausing her breath with hood pulled all the way down as she leaned and kept close to the slope looking like a very small dark bolder amongst the grasses. She kept her ears open, and remained still even as she heard near by what sounded like wings ruffling and the sound of talons gripping the aged bark. The small traveler hoped the bird would loose track of her soon, either disinterested or distracted by something else. But the thought was heavy in her mind, that if it was indeed following her, another was soon to come.

Daemon

In one swift movement, Talon rolls forward into the ditch and stands over the cloaked figure with his quarterstaff ready to strike.
"You don't have to run. I won't hurt you or speak of you to any man." Talon said, loosening his grip slightly. "All I want to know is why you walk this path when few others dare to."

Mish

Bestaba carefully read the whole scroll, that limits his freedom to use magic around without supervision. Understanding the legitimacy of restricting magic in the town's boundaries, he signs the contract gladly. He asks the officer: "Will I be able to choose the supervision between the classified men from the task on my own? I hope to have a good time learning about the church's history so I wish I could choose a friendly supervisor. May I go look around in the guild only until the proper supervisors would attend to engage with me for my visit?"

Koozma

Every tense muscle reacted the moment the druid rushed in, her head shot up with a sharp gasp as greenish eyes peered out from under the hood for a moment, and in the same motion the rest of her reacted as a silvery dagger in a thin hand swung out between them from the folds of the cloak, just clipping the staff. His words did not register in the moment of panic, as she also sprang up, jumping and skidding to get back to the top of the slope, staying as defensive as she could while tripping over her own feet, gasping in shock again as she tried to regain the breath she has been holding off. She stood atop the slope of the small ditch, or shallow ravine, looking at the druid, a shaking hand still clutching the dagger and soon tried to inch away...

Daemon

"Careful!" Talon shouted swinging the staff at the figure's dagger hand, trying to knock it away before approaching.

Mesmeratio

[That's actually an attack roll, just sayin']

Edit: if in case of a struggle, would you like to do this in IRC?

Edit by Glun so his comment can be deleted by Mesmer at a moment's notice:
I do believe it'd be best to have any and all character interactions other than a friendly/passive chat in the IRC. That was kind of the idea in the first place, wasn't it?

Edit by Windy so his comment can be deleted by Mesmer at a moment's notice:
The following interaction took place on IRC inclusive of some dice rolls. @Koozma and @Daemon will be editing it up and talking to you about it, if I remember right.

Mesmeratio

"Tourdion, but you may call me Gerald, if you wish" the man in the dressing gown smiles. "And to what do I owe this pleasure, sir..?"

-

"A human?" The elf seems intrigued. "A shapeshifter maybe. Tell me- what did this human look like?". Behind the door is a library, the room is shaped like a half circle. Every inch of the wall is crammed full of books. In the middle is a large table. There is another elf mage sitting at the table. She's reading a large tome, and doesn't seem to be bothered by Obsidian's stampeding noise. The elf leading you around goes straight for the kettle in the corner.

-

The templar picks up the scroll with his sticky chicken-fingers. And looks a bit troubled. "A friendly supervisor? From the church? Err- not sure if you can pick one if you please, but you're free to look around in the guild until they arrive. Just don't make any mess in the library or Ms. Greensleeves will be mad, and her illusion spells are particularly nasty." He looks at the greasy spots on the scroll he's holding, seems to suddenly remember something and quickly drops it on the table. He whispers to Bestaba "Those voices still haunt me, never eat chicken in the library".