At first, the stream seems manageable, just as it was before. However, as you approach the stream's center, you find the water too deep to keep your footing. The slow current catches in your already water-laden wings, and begins to drag you downstream. You have to struggle just to keep your head above the water.
Drakkenmaw
The daysprite manages to wade out towards the center of the stream, perhaps five feet into it. At first she seems fine, however as she reaches midstream, she suddenly begins to bob in the water, and floats slowly towards the bridge.
Reyolen
The stream water seems to do rather well at washing the purple ooze off your hands. The water is crisp and clear, slightly chilled as was the night air. Ara's gloves also quickly rinse clean of the substance. Diluted in the water, it takes on a reddish tone, almost like blood.
Arttemis
You can find no latch, or any other mechanism to open the ring. Nor does there seem to be any way to retract the spikes, which, elongated as they are, make the ring completely unwearable save as a charm on a necklace. Not that you would want to wear it anyway, with all that thick purple ooze seeping from the pinholes at the prongs' ends. The volume of it has already exceeded anything the ring could hold, even if its walls were thinner than gold leaf.
edit: I posted before the gm post.....It's a-ok now, I think. [ 04-17-2002: Message edited by: Reyolen ]
Hey! This water...er...bit deeper than I thought...mind helping me out?
Sae continues to try to keep her head above the water...
Twin Moon panicks on Freya's shoulder, then flies up into the trees, perching on a high tree branch. For the first time that you can recall, the owl appears to have no intention of following the druidess who befriended it even before you joined in their company.
"We should leave the water," he says softly. "It is cold."
A large splash rises up around the lizardman as his feet strike their way into the water. The wave nearly forces Saeessira under the current. However, a swift hand reaches through the crest of the wave, taking the much of daysprite's waist in its grip, and pulling her above the water again.
Jean blinks as he stares at the ring.
"ICK! ICK! ICK!"
Jean drops the ring and hurriedly rushes over to the stream to wash his hands.
Yes, lets get out of this water....
Thanks again, I would guess that I owe you for that...
"You owe me nothing. No wild creatures have memories past lessons learned of how to hunt and survive better, and the wilderness holds the truth of the Shalm's laws."
He then nods his head lightly, as if waking from a spell. "But thank you for the consideration. I do not believe I heard your name, or in fact those of most everyone I've been following. I am Drakkenclaw Steeltalon." He nods his head slightly, and bends his shoulders in a small bow to not disturb his passenger.
You manage to nearly catch up to Freya soon after you enter the underbrush. It's apparent that she's not running at her top speed, as she could have easily outrun you. Up ahead, you can see two orcs darting through the trees, as their forms repeatedly appear and disappear behind trees and low branches ahead of you.
The ring in your hand has finally stopped oozing the vile purple fluid. It spewed out enough of the stuff to fill its own size a good three or four times over. Now the prongs retract by themselves, returning to the small points they had been before.
Arttemis
As you lean forward over the water to wash your hands, you feel your hat shift slightly. It doesn't fall off, but simply drops slightly over your eyes. The water feels cool on your hands, and after a moment the purple goo dissolves away in a stream of reddish water. Across the stream, you can see two bleeding orc corpses.
Reyolen
The halfling fellow in rich garb walks up on your other side, and begins to wash his hands. The little bird flutters a bit, then flies off the halfling's beret, and over to where you dropped the oozing ring.
Drakkenmaw
With the length of your leap, the shores are at roughly even distances from you. The easiest course is simply to walk forward, towards the opposite shore of the stream. Pushing your way through the water only takes a small effort, and you soon emerge, with the little winged girl on your shoulder. Your clothing is soaked with water from the waist down, making the fabric slightly darker.
Falaanla
The lizardman carries you safely out of the water. It seems like virtually no effort for the large creature. From the height of your perch on his shoulder, it almost seems as if you were seated on a low tree branch.
"Ooh, bleedy shinies," you hear Ithar blurt out, with a note of curiosity. The little bird is on the ground beside the bridge, his feet just inches from a pool of purple ooze, which he is staring at intently.
"You see one of those rings too, Ithar? I wouldnt get too close to it. Dont want you getting hurt..."
The world appears uncomfortably bright as you open your eyes. You can feel the ground underneath the length of your body. All your muscles ache, your head throbs, and on the whole it feels like you have been sat on by a dragon.
Once your vision clears, you can see the bridge beside you. It seems that you are hardly a step or two from the last spot you recall standing at, before a searing pain passed through your head and back. You cannot be certain how long you were out, or what exactly happened. Khazmon is leaning against a rail of the bridge, with one of his axes loose on the ground. A few others are on the far side of the bridge, leaning over the water. You can see two bodies on the near shore, and a third a short way down the trail... orcs.
Falaanla
"Okay, I no touch. Come look, ring bleedy!" the little bird answers.
After a while, he decides to continue thinking about it later, and goes to retrieve his handaxe.
OOH this is NEAT! Its like flying, but without any of the effort!
Sae giggles
So, what brings you here, Drakkenclaw?
Drops of water run from your clothing where you squeeze, making paths of moisture over the backs of your hands. The water is cool, but in this smaller quantity, not uncomfortably so.
Ruvyen
Your arm has yet to be tended since the blow that rendered it limp. Simply to pick up your smaller axe, you find yourself forced to stow the larger one. A sharp pain runs down your side from the two wounds as you reach down for the handaxe, and for a few seconds, you see a haze before your eyes. As you stand again, the haze fades. You are able to stand, but trying to exert yourself now might be a bad idea. You feel tired.
"These fine garments were gifted to me by an oh-so-generous courtesan, a friend of mine who frequented the floor of the great Sir Drake of Morkberg in a far off land. They were a payment of sorts, for a service that my friend could not bring himself to do. Frilly nobles afraid to perform anything not involving politics, you know."
Jean scratches his chin.
"All so stuck up, too."
"I do not really know," he says in response, "I can't go back, won't. And I do not know anywhere else to go. So I'm just... observing."
He then pauses.
"You never told me your name. What am I to call you?"
Noticing Taylen's attempt to gain pace, Freya speeds up herself. She comes up behind the nearest of the fleeing orcs, and leaps upon him from behind, trying to force the creature to the ground.
[/Freya]
Freya leaps onto one of the fleeing orcs, tackling the creature to the earth. The other orc turns at the sound of its falling comrade, and grasps its club tightly with both hands. There is a fierce look in its eyes, and its only sign of injury is a stream of dried blood leading from its shoulder down its torso and leg.
The orc rushes at you, letting out a horrendous rasping warcry as it raises its club over its shoulder. It bears down heavily against your chest, driving you back a step from your stance beside Freya and the orc she struggles with upon the ground. You can feel a pain in your chest, even as you regain your footing.
ooc:
Taylen, take 4 damage. You may make one attack this round.Only Taylen and Freya are on combat time, so the rest of you may act normally.
[Freya]
Freya continues to struggle with the orc. She uses all four limbs to pin the creature, hoping to keep it from escaping. A low growl emanates from her throat.
[/Freya]
"Sae...sssssissssa? ...Sssasssirssa? ...Sessassarassa?"
Finally, he just shrugs.
"I shall call you Friend." [ 04-20-2002: Message edited by: Drakkenmaw ]
That works for me, Drakkenclaw...
Sae smiles
Your swing just manages to catch the orc, as it tries to dodge away from your swing. The blade cleaves through its stomach cleanly, not slicing it through, but wounding it deep enough that it keels over on the ground. Its form writhes for a moment, clutching at its chest, before it falls into unconsciousness once again.
Freya continues to wrestle with the unarmed orc. Both grunt and holler over each other in a vicious struggle, as two wild beasts. The orc pushes off the ground, and the two of them roll until Freya finds herself pinned with her back against a tree, the orc facing away from her, clawing at one of her arms around its throat.
Reyolen
It only takes a moment in the stream's flow to refill your waterskin. The orc corpses on the opposite shore continue to spill blood, though the flow has lessened since you leaned down. Filthy creatures.
Willias
All this yelling is certainly not doing wonders for your head. Any time you call out, or try to rise, your head throbs in the back, and you feel drained. You can move, slowly, and still keep the pain tolerable. Your back is sore as well, as if you had tried to lift something beyond your means.
Striking the orc would be a rather easy task at this stage. Because of its struggle with your companion, it can neither dodge your blow nor put up any more than a minimal defense. It has no weapon or shield to deflect your blow, and only the tattered leather armor on its body. However, when you do go to strike, you must be cautious. Driving too deeply with a blade could easily drive it straight through the orc and into your companion.
