[ 02-15-2003: Message edited by: Dr. Pvednes, PhD ]

ooc:
Spotlight's on you, Drak

"Very well," the voice echoes from nowhere. "And what of the other, the scaled one? Let it speak its cause, if it has a voice." One or two of the elves fidget where they stand, but none of them move. Lorin, Celbarin, Velmoor, and Rilanna all look over at the lizardman, though Velmoor visibly tightens his grip on the rope.

Falaanla

"Hmm..." Relmido lifts, or rather lowers, his hand to his hair, which he combs back. It immediately hangs down towards the ground again, and you notice briefly just how silly his pose appears. "I've got it!" he exclaims, flipping upright, then whispers in a sinister tone, "With everyone's shoes tied together, a little fire would work wonders. What d'ya say, you got the pyro touch?"

Reyolen

Despite the number of strange people, the hall was designed to accommodate far more, so making your way to the center of the hall proves fairly simple. You can see an entirely different set of faces from the center of the room, but still no signs of anyone you remember. Saeessira and Taylen both seem to have found people to talk to, and Aust has disappeared into the crowd.

Taylen

Simfor relaxes, and a smile returns to his face as he lets his hands drop to his sides, "Thank you, for bringing word of my cousin. When you go to meet her, I'd like to go with you, if that's alright. We have much to catch up about."

Pvednes

As you and Ralora exit through the mossy curtain, you learn what the muffled voice and the grunts were about. Boltat has returned, and the bear is not alone. Backing slowly away from the bear, and towards Ralora's home, an elven woman with blonde hair tied back in a single tight braid protests nervously, "Nice bear, good bear, h-happy bear..." She appears somewhat loaded down with gear, and has a bundle hanging from one arm.

Ralora, only a few steps ahead of you, holds a hand out towards the bear, and calls out in a clear voice, "Einde, Boltat!" The bear stops, and blows a huff through its nose, followed by a small grunt. The woman jumps another step back, her toes barely catching on the edge of the path.

My magics are more focused in the realm of illusions and such. I can make sounds come out of nowhere, for example, or make strange lights appear out of nowhere.

But, no fire sadly.

The daysprite thinks for a moment, with a look of disappointment on his face. He scans the crowd with his eyes, until his eyes pick a particular spot. "Just illusions?" he asks, but waits only a few seconds before a mischievous grin crosses his face again, "Well, I suppose it doesn't need to be a real fire, now does it?"

Taylen

The fellin thinks for a moment, then says in Sylvan, "There's really not much I can tell you. A lot's been happening, of course, but I just don't know much about it. From what I've gathered, though, many folk have disappeared. Some get attacked, others just vanish, but so far almost nobody's turned up again, living or otherwise. It's got folks scared. I left Trana Kayle with more than a dozen others, after goblins attacked the town. Only three of us got here."

I think its more fun when it isnt real, myself!

So...how do we do this and NOT get ourselves in trouble?

"Look out!"

"I figured we'd just run out with the crowd. Hard to blame somebody who isn't there. We just need everyone to make a run for it with everyone else." After a second of silence, he adds, "Well, everyone who doesn't fall over."

Taylen

"We couldn't find them, so I can't really say for sure what happened. All I know is they disappeared during the night. You say you... met... orcs? Like you stopped to talk with them?!" he suddenly starts looking nervous, and edges away a step. A few people nearby turn their heads in your direction, though they don't appear to know quite yet what's going on between you and the fellin.

Pvednes

The girl stops backing up, but perhaps too late. Only her toes balance on the edge of the trail, and the weight of her pack slowly tips her backwards. She flails her arms, bundle and all, as her body tips backward over the edge. Then in a last-second gesture, she bends at the waist, and reaches forward with both her arms, falling quickly off the edge. Her toes slip, and she disappears below the edge of the trail. You hear a slight low-pitched creaking, then nothing.

For a moment, you hear only silence. Boltat has halted, and the fellin woman makes her way over to the bear, which lays down on the on the walkway where it stood, grunting. Ralora scolds the creature in a language you cannot understand. She sounds genuinely upset, and several growls escape from her mouth in combination with her half-yelling speech.

Novel idea. We just need to be sure not to laugh too much...don't want to draw attention to ourselves...at least not yet.

Now...where should I place our little...illusory ball of fire, hmmm?

Why no rails?! Stupid... And that poor girl, who was she?

"I was thinking more like a pillar, but if it's not real, what the hells, fireball it is. We have to put it somewhere it'll get noticed, but not where anyone could figure out it's a fake. Got any ideas?" He looks around, scanning the semi-crowded room, the balconies, and the shallow-domed ceiling.

Pvednes

Through your tears, you can see the ground a long way off. It's hard to tell just how far the drop may be, but finding out first hand seems like a bad idea. You don't see any signs of the elven woman, however. Ralora has stopped scolding her bear, and now says to you, "There is nothing we can do for her. I shall take you to the elders now, if you are ready."

Taylen

"And what... what happened?" he asks, still nervous. A few of the onlookers also grow agitated, and one sets his hand on the hilt of a small blade.

"Lead on.." She pauses, "Did you.. know her?"

[ 02-18-2003: Message edited by: Dr. Pvednes, PhD ]

"I... I see," the fellin sighs, his tone changing from one of fear and distrust to quiet remorse. "Then perhaps I should be the one asking what has become of so many travelers in recent days. And perhaps also, I should thank you, for seeing to Freya's safety on her own travels."

Pvednes

"I did not know her," the fellin woman says flatly, and appears somewhat lost in thought, as she leads you away from the small dome where you awoke not long ago. With cautious footsteps aided by her simple wooden cane, she makes her way along the footpath of woven branch, her bear trailing a step or two behind her. At first you pass only more small domes, but before long, larger and more elaborate homes appear, and the walkways grow wider. Loops of jutting branches reach up and away from the edges of the wider walkways, which could catch a person from falling. Even here, however, occasional domes line the paths, and at these points the rails disappear. Many people pass through the streets, mostly elves, some fellis and half-elves, and occasionally a human or gnome.

"A... cause? Do I have a cause..." The lizardman is quiet momentarily. "One among the group that found the two of us knew something of me that is not common knowledge. I wish to know how he learned of this. Is that enough?" His voice sounds unsure, and a small amount disturbed by what exactly the question entails.

"Is it far?" She asks, more to make conversation of some description than anything else.

The fellin takes a moment to respond after your explanation. For that moment, he appears almost bedazzled. Some of those nearby who reacted to his earlier agitation now glance at each other, or stare in concert with Simfor. When he finally regains his wits again, he stammers, "Orcs? With... with magic? And slavers? Here? I... I can hardly believe it but..." he blinks, and continues looking confused. Murmurs spring up around you, and a small crowd has started to gather.

Reyolen

A few moments pass, with nothing extraordinary going on. You do not find a single familiar face in the crowd, and probably will not, at least not without giving them all a closer look. Slowly, you hear a few murmurs pick up among some of the people, and a small crowd begins gathering around Taylen.

Drakkenmaw, Aanile, Ukko, Janus Krug

The disembodied voice calls out, "Your goal, however noble, does not merit entrance into Destindeterre. If that is your only purpose, then you would be wise to return from whence you came."

The two male elves who returned with the large human now glance at each other, and at the conclusion of the bodiless voice's response, the one leaning on the axe speaks up. "We can answer your question right now," he chuckles, "there isn't much mystery to our methods. You have a marking on your arm. My companion, Velmoor, thought to look for it." The other elf, still holding the large human's binding rope, continues, "We saw the bodies around you, and the dark one confronting you. I have seen the mark before, and thought you might have come from the human city. Celbarin has long trained his eyes, I simply asked him to look for it."

"I am far more interested in something else," the female elf says, a note of curiosity in her voice. She then looks up at the trees, and calls out, "This one must speak with the elders. I believe he may have valuable information about our foe." For a moment, the elves remain silent, all looking up at the trees.

Pvednes

"Not far," Ralora smiles meekly, "though we may differ on what to call far, I think."

[ 02-19-2003: Message edited by: Ford Prefect ]

He looks up towards the forest canopy.

"Were I to return to the land of my origin, I would be hunted down as merely a beast to prey upon. Were I to return to the land of my race, they would kill me needlessly in simple revenge. There... there is no place for me to return to."

He sighs softly. No land wishes to house the fallen.

She turns to the Lizardman again. "And why arrre you not with the otherrrs?"

[ 02-20-2003: Message edited by: Janus Krug ]

"Pour quoi?! I have lost all, lost everything, you would tell me I have a home, but that is untrue, for my soul is homeless until I find my son and wife. I walk this land as I let destiny take me to where it dearly wants. I do not judge who i meet by their first look, how could i tell their whole life from a first blink. But tell me this, Voice, explain to me, who are you contradict this soul's destiny?"

ooc:
Janus, your character has not heard Drakkenclaw's name. Nor have I seen any mention of anyone talking about the elven city being hidden. Please consult with me before presuming that your character has heard rumors of anything not specifically mentioned. It couldn't hurt to use the Acquaintances section of the website either.

For the sake of continuity, I ask that everyone please ignore Janus's last post.

As you pull back your sleeve, you notice that the cuff has been torn, along with several other tears in your robes. Though you would not consider it ruined, it could use some repair.

Aanile, Drakkenmaw, Ukko, Janus Krug

The voice from the trees speaks up, its tone changed slightly, though you can't quite tell how this reflects the mood of the unseen figure, "So, lizardman, it seems that your presence holds more significance than meets the eye at first glance. Very well, you may enter. Now all have been spoken for. But tread cautiously, and do not stray, or the consequences shall prove dire indeed." Then, between a pair of tall trees not far from the decorated human, a glimmer forms, then slowly takes shape into a pair of shimmering silver gates. The curls of metal appear almost as if grown from silver vines, netted and entwined with scores of leaves concealing any gap or void. Without a sound, the shimmering gates slowly swing open.

Reyolen

Worming your way through the crowd around your companion takes a bit of effort. Your legs and shoulders brush by a few people along the way, and a few of your apologies receive grunted replies. Though the crowd isn't terribly thick, perhaps a dozen people or more have already gathered. You can only discern bits and pieces of the whispered conversations, certain words catch your ears. "Magic," the whispers come, "orcs," "slavers." It seems your companion has had quite a bit to say. "Orcs attacked our caravan!" someone shouts. At the same time, another voice speaks up, "Where did you find the orcs?"

Taylen

You can only gather bits and pieces of the whispered conversations, certain words catch your ears. "Magic," the whispers come, "orcs," "slavers." Your recent travels seem to have made an impression on the crowd. A few more faces gather around you, as the murmurs continue. "Orcs attacked our caravan!" someone shouts. At the same time, another voice speaks up, "Where did you find the orcs?" "Did you see who freed the slaves?" a woman's voice strains, speaking in the Sylvan tongue. You can barely tell one question from another.

ooc:
I could have sworn I heard Drakkenclaw's name, sorry

Gavin stands agape at the wonders before him.

"In Pelor's name..." He says in awe.

ooc:
I need to know whether Drakkenclaw cooperates with Freya or resists being led before I take this much further.

The elf known as Velmoor braces against the rope, and for a second, he seems to hold steady against the large man's weight... only for a second, however. All too quickly, the elf's footing gives way, and he stumbles along behind the behemoth of a man. Celbarin laughs as he starts gathering up the various axes again, "So much for treading cautiously!" He and their female companion head for the gate, along with Lorin and two of the other elves. The two female elves glance between each other, then begin chatting quietly amongst themslves, as they have done several times this evening.

Pvednes

Ralora gives no answer to your comment, instead glancing around at the people you pass. Several folk wave to her as you walk by, some greeting her in the Elven tongue, others speaking a language you cannot understand, though those further off give no vocal accompaniment to their visual greetings. Sooner than you expect, you find yourself approaching a thick standing oak, with ramps wound around it, leading upward. "This way," Ralora smiles, this time with a bit less concern on her face, "it isn't much further." The pillar winds upward several stories, before disappearing into the dimly lit branches above you. From the corner of your eye, you notice a dim glow coming from the mesh of branches and leaves far above your head.

Falaanla

A crowd appears to be gathering not far from the center of the large, circular room. Nearly a third of the room's inhabitants have formed a loose crowd around someone, and their chatter has grown somewhat louder than it had been.

Then, he feels something close over his upper arm, near his shoulder. Through small rends in the fabric of his sleeves, he feels the hand against his scales. A... furred leather glove?

The lizardman looks at his side to see Freya's hand closed on the edge of his upper arm, tugging him softly upwards. He glances up at her momentarily, sighs, then stands up and looks down at her emotionlessly as he brushes her hand away and begins slowly walking through the gates.