//OOC: Also, if you haven't already, I suggest you read the entire thread before entering. When you do, you'll notice that I myself caused a slight historical ruckus by missing out on several crucial moments. And, of course, might be a good idea to wait for Sandromin's response first, maybe he's got an idea for you. Hopefully he and the others will also reply soon storywise... //End of OOC\\

You are not derailing this thread. This is the invincible threadnought of the forums. We diehard RPers will defend it with our lives! :P

what is this thread about?

//OOC: It would be highly inconvenient if you do that. I'd say reading the entire thread is crucial for participation, coming from my own experience. //End of OOC\\

OOC: Plenty of the map is open. And yes, I'm working on my next response, so it is quite slow.

---

And thus, Sandromin spoke in reply. He saw fit to begin.

"It seems that there is much to do. Now, if we could so kindly gather the forces, we have an adventure to embark on. We shall stay till the morn here. Tomorrow, the Feast of the Years begins in my homeland. Furthermore, I have noticed none of you have visited my homeland, so it would be perfect to embark for my lands tomorrow. The mission has been delayed by a day, as we must plan and stock on anything that may be of use for us here."

Okay

//OOC: Um, we might have a problem with this post... Sandromin won't be happy. //End of OOC\\

"Adryan, you can't possibly go to the city! It's folly, you'll die there just like everyone else!"
Frost was packing his bag for his journey. He was still extremely sore and tired, but he had to go into the city. So many expiditions had been run before into the anci"I'm going cairn, I have to." Frost said cooly, he understood the anxiety coming alone...until now when the life of every living being was in danger of being snuffed out.
"I won't"
"And what makes you think you'll survive when others hadn't?"
"I'm alone, so I'm a smaller target than a thousand armed and armored troops."
"Which means you'll have no one there to back you up."
"Oh I will. Don't worry about that."
"And who would that be? Because as much as you are a brother to me, some one will have to stay behind and tell every one how the great Frost died!"
"The shade will help me."
Carin stared at frost with his mouth agape. Frost didn't take any notice to it, or if he had he didn't care. Frost hefted his pack over his shoulder.
"I'll be back in a week or less. If all goes to plan, I'll come back with an army of monsters and legends."
Frost began to walk.but stopped when he heard cairn yell at him.
"Adryan, I hate to see you do this. But I can see that for the first time in a long time, you have your mind set on something. I'll make sure no one goes after Reta while you're out recruiting your monsters."
Cairn gave a sad smile. He waved to his brother as he watched him walk down the hill, turning back periodically to wave good bye to the gathering watchers.

Frost hadn't the slightest idea what he had really gotten into. He went over what he had taken with him again in his head. A bow, a breaker his sword some clothes about thirty arrows, ten shakers, three bags of breaker bolts, two weeks of food ration, two pairs of boots plus the ones he's wearing, his bag, a heavier cloak. He seemed like he was ready, considering that wasn't even everything.
Frost had been walking for hours now. And he was only ...
"Half way there frost, you can make it, you're seventeen and a ranger a few miles should not have you winded."
Of course I a mere week or so he had been beaten to a pulp and shot with an arrow, so his windedness was relatively explained.
Frost then began to wonder some thing. What if these legends and monster don't listen to him? What if they kill him? Then what?
"Snap out of it frost!" He had to yell him self out of his pessimistic view.
The rest of the walk was un eventful. Frost had nothing to think about aside from how the very earth around the city was dead. The ground became grey and cracked and the trees stood as dead sentinels for the city. This place was well and truly deceased. But the earth was not what worried frost. The city loomed like the maw of some beast. Awaiting for frost to step in so it could swallow him whole as it waited for more bodies. A strange fog lolled in and out of the beast like the city was breathing. But the sight wasn't what terrified frost it was the noise. It would be silent as a dead man, then the dead man would let out a shout somewhere deep in the beast he had been devoured by.
"I hope this works." Frost muttered to himself.
The young ranger drew his sword and kept his hand lowered to his side. He took a deep breath of stale air as the ranger stepped through the city's gate. The fog was thicker than a giants chest plate. Frost could barely see where he was going. He walked in a straight line, slowly and carefully. He made sure he made no noise keeping his sword from dragging and his feet from falling to loudly. He had his hand on a building to his right to guide him. And as terrified as he was, frost couldn't help but feel...exilerated... He was in the home of his ancestors. The great city. He wondered who had lived in this ancient building. Frost stopped suddenly. He thought he saw something. But only for a fleeting second. A black sillohette of...something. He was frozen in terror. Frost moved slowly away from the building holding his sword out in front of him. He stood in the spot for what seemed like hours. Waiting...nothing, his mind was playing tricks on hims his nerves were shot. That was it. Frost kept his sword drawn still. Frost began to walk again. Frost's heart was beating like a war drum. It was one of the only things he heard constantly, not even his foot falls sounded. Frost's eyes were starting to adjust to the fog. He could see further ahead now. But what he saw he wished he hadn't. Bodies, old dead skeletons littered the street in front of him...markers to a battle. The husk of a giant was slumped against a building. His arm had been torn from his body and laid near by. Frost assumed that the bodies around the once mighty warrior had been ferals. Since they were literally ripped to shreds. Even though the giant had been dead for years frost felt he had to say something for the giant. Frost kneeled by the armor of the giant.
"I'm sorry you had to die like that. And I know you can't hear me now, and I never knew who you were, but thank you for the sacrifice you made. What ever it means."
Frost patted the giants shoulder in respect of the giants sacrifice. Then frost heard something, not a shout or a moan...he heard...breathing. Frost spun on his heels holding his sword so tight his knuckles cracked. A man stood ten feet away from frost, a slight hunch in his posture. Both of his arms were held awa from his sides with his hands held open. A clawed cestus on each hand. A heavy faded cloak hung tattered around the mans shoulders and head. A black cloth was around his mouth and nose, yet his breathing was deep and heavy. Two orange eyes peaked from under the hood like fires in the night.
Frost knew what thing was.
"...shade..."

Dravek stood awaiting his turn for payment. Even after the end of the great nation a monetary system was still intact. And Dravek needed his pay to feed his family.
"Dravek." The cleric motioned for the young ranger. Dravek walked to the desk.
"You get ninety Shill. Any complaint of this file it with your superior. Any complaints with that and you are on your own. Have a nice day." The cleric hadn't even looked up when he slid the small bag of coin to Dravek. With a grumble of dissatisfaction and a shake of the head Dravek pocketed the coins. He made two Flori last pay. Nearly twice this. And certainly not enough to keep his brothers and sisters with food this week. Dravek felt the first drops of rain fall onto his head. He flipped his hood up, much like frost. However unlike frost Dravek didn't keep his hood up like an anti social thief, nor did he wrap a scarf around his face. But Dravek didn't dislike frost. Quite the contrary actually, frost was probably Darvek's. he had lost count of how many times frost had saved him from getting stomped to a flesh pulp of fresh meat. And it was always because Dravek ran his mouth off. The rain was pouring now. The dirt streets of the tent city were quickly turning to mud. The squelch of hundreds of people walking around was a welcome sound. It meant that everyone was still alive and kicking. Or in the least alive. Dravek made it to the medium sized tent his family called home. Dravek yelled in greeting before he entered the tent. Everyone was there all seven of his brothers and sisters. The youngest being five and the oldest being Dravek at nineteen and four months. The next oldest was sixteen With every age in between, almost. The youngest children rushed to their eldest brother gathering around him asking questions about being a ranger, what it was like, if saw a dragon, if he killed the dragon and if he had "shaken" anything. The usual slew of questions, which always made Dravek laugh to himself. He started to talking about his trip. The youngest listened intently while the others went about their own duties. As Dravek spoke about the battle on the hill all of the children began to listen. The youngest Emna, spoke up.
"Did you get hurt? Are you okay?"
"No, I was under a table with Aegis. He got his in the shoulder with an arrow but you've all seen him. The mans a walking tree."
The oldest, Hermus, an athletic looking teen spoke up.
"So you were hiding?"
"No I was getting shot at and was in cover. One of the new guys was hiding though."
"And what happened to him?"
"He got hit with a shaker. "
Hermus looked ashamed. But Dravek knew why his brother was trying to belittle him. He regretted the decision that lead to his brothers disdain for him, but what had happened, happened.
The other children started to become restless. As much as they loved their brother's stories, they were still children and children, no matter what the story had to move around. One by one the young children lost interest and ran off. Dravek, sat for a while watching his family, their mother had died years ago. And their father, who Dravek thought of a a sack of filth and scum personified into a body of flesh, fat and bone, had left after Darvek's dear mothers passing. The children were real actively well off. They all had food twice a day, Dravek included (although he could eat three times a day, being a ranger. He chose to eat as much or less than his family.) but this week, money and food would be tight.
"Brother?" Uilia, the oldest daughter of fifteen called to Dravek.
"How much money did you get from the cleric? We're running low on food and medicine."
Dravek sighed. He knew about the food, but not the medicine. He'd have to use his ranger supplies for the next month. Oh well, Grandis would probably loan Dravek some thing if he really needed it.
"They gave me ninety shill. Use it for food, I still have some ranger supplied medicine."
"Only ninety shill?" Uilia sounded quite down trodden.
Dravek nodded.
"It could be worse."
"I know. But it might get worse before it gets better."
"But you are admitting it will get better. Right?"
Uilia shrugged.
"Right?" She shrugged again.
"Come on, you know it'll get better."
"I suppose."
"You suppose? You can do better than suppose."
Uilia started to smile.
"See? Already you're smiling! Getting better right now."
Uilia nodded with the smile on her face.
"Now. I'll be back for supper." Dravek started gathering up his cloak which was still soaked.
"Where are you off to?"
"I'm off to get medicine." Dravek kissed his sister on the fore head.
"Don't leave the tent, it's a storm out right now."
"Okay...and Dravek." Uilia added meekly.
Dravek looked over his shoulder.
"Don't go out to get drunk...please..."
Dravek felt guilt in his stomach. She knew.
"I promise I won't get drunk, nor come back late."
"Alright then. Be careful."
"I'm a ranger." Dravek put his hood up. "Careful is what I do." And with that the young ranger exited the tent.

this ******* things still alive?!?!?

kill it kill it kill it!!!

OOC: +Åa, +Åa! May Cthulhu

Ohhh i think I get it now. you guys are role playing but I think your doing it wrong.

I roleplayed with my girlfriend once and it was 10 times more exciting than your weird conversations.

I thought warlord was the winner?

Aww :(

Frost laid on the ancient concrete face down. It was cool and comfortable, or maybe his nerves had deadend to the point of even the roughest material feeling like the softest quilt. As he flittered from consciousness and the void he heard odd noises. He heard pacing of boots and mumbling and deep heavy breathing close to his ear that chilled his bones. He laid motionless, never stirring for f ear of death. But he had a sinking feeling that his death would meet him here. That the thing from his dreams was a liar and had sent him here to die. As he quietly pondered these thoughts he could feel his body starting to come back around. Noises became more frequent and silence was from the world not his ears failing him. He listened for what felt like years to the shuffle of boots and the deep breathing until all of a sudden...it stopped. All of it. All noise everywhere cut out.
Everything was dead silent.
The silence was the worst thing frost had ever experienced in his short life. It was life death swallowed the world and everything sat in his stomach. He heard nothing, not even his own breath, not even his heart. Then the world crashed as screams echoed only a few meters away, in earthly screams.
"Ferals" frost barely spoke loud enough for himself to hear.
Th sound of meat and bone being tore and crushed was resounding around him. He had to get up.
His arms were like lead. Heavy and un responsive at first but eventually working. His legs cooperated in a similar manner. A spike of pain shot through his head and back. He brushed too fingers on the back of his head, slick, warm blood caked his hair. Groggily he stood and turned and saw a sight that amazed and terrified him.
The shade was locked in combat with ferals. He tore at them taking arms, hands heads and faces away with each swipe of his armored hands. He crushed their skulls under foot when they fell. The shade was a force of nature like the earth personified death and anger into this singular being. Frost saw the shade was winning every second another feral fell to his strike. Every second he was closer and closer to freedom. Every second he fulfilled a blood lust frost could never comprehend. But just as the shade brained his final victim the worst possible thing happend.
A giant shot out of the fog shouting with the force of a thunder clap. It barreled straight to the shade with it's shoulder lowered to his victims chest.
The shade slow to react was slammed into by a ton of armor, flesh and hunger. The shade carried into the air and slammed into a wall. The wall cracked and groaned, yet the shade, to frost amazement still lived. But as frost looked on in astonishment he saw the dead giant slamm into the shade again. The smaller fighter fell to the ground in a heap, but his attacker was not done. The giant grabbed the shade by the torso and slammed him into the cold ground, again and again. Any normal man would have been dead already. And soon even the shade would die...
Frost's body moved without him knowing. He drew his sword slowly and began to sneak to the behind of the giant.
Slowly.
Slowly.
The beast hefted the shade up to it's own face and bellowed, foul breath and spit escaped it's mouth.
Then it bellowed again. Not in triumph but in pain.
Frost stood on the shoulder of the giant as he stabbed down through the expos+¬ flesh of the neck. Black blood sputtered from the wound as the giant spun around trying to find frost. He stabbed down again and again. Even as the world spun he stabbed. Until the blade was caught on something. A bone. The wound was nearly hilt deep now. Yet the giant still stood. Enraged. It grabbed frost by the leg and pulled him off of his shoulder. For a moment frost was face to face with the giant in a silent stare down. Most of his helm was gone. He could see his dilapidated features, green skin covered his skull like a mask and a stench of rank dead meat and blood flowed freely to frost's nose. Then the beast shouted again at frost. Frost closed his eyes as it raised him into the air and...
Frost waited eyes shut tight.
He waited. And waited.
He opened his eyes to see the shade atop the now decapitated giants shoulder holding frost's blade in one hand and the giants head in the other.
"T-thanks." Frost mustered as he was taken down from the giants grip.
"...no....thank....you...." The shade breathed.
"You....saved....me....why...?"
Frost pondered this for a moment then spoke.
"Because I need your help."
The shade looked at frost for a few minutes the extended his hand.
The two shook on their new partnership.