<font color="red">Delita Hyral

Finally coming to, he sat up while pain coursed through his jaw. "'osh 'is 'urts 'eal 'ad, I 'ink ' I 'ould 'ie 'om 'a 'ain!" which translated to, "Gosh this hurts real bad, I think I could die from the pain!" A black robed mage came by about half a minute later and handed him a blue vial. He spat out all the blood and then took a large swig. The pain slowly began to leave and he soon felt completly better. "To whom do I owe this" he asked the mage while passing it to the half drowned larry...</font>

Choking violently, the paladin vomited some water as well as some blood, he finally caught his breath. Half laying and sitting, he shook his head, and made a futile attempt to stand up, but found out it is better to sit as the world that seemed to not hold quite still. (OOC: Did Gina give me the CPR? :D :D :D )

"argh..." he looked around "who do I owe my life to?" By paladin's honor code, his life is now under (fill in a big word for me please, Larry? [img]smile.gif[/img] ) of the other person. Smiling, he thought inwardly, what a bright start. Helm always place good fortune on me, it seems. At least, he is thankful for being alive...

Waiting for an answer, he added "what was that thing? any idea?"

OOC>>>I know the word you are referring to, but at the moment, I cannot recall it. :( Oh well...

IC>>>
<font color="lightblue">"I did what had to be done, nothing more. I will not hold you to any service, though, so do not feel that you owe me anything. Yet, I know that to reject your proposal is an insult to your beliefs. I do not wish to insult you, so I graciously accept your binding offer. Let us be known as brothers.
As to that thing...I know not what it was. My animal lore extends only to natural beasts of the field...and that was certainly an apparition of an evil neverbefore seen by mine eyes. </font>

OOC: oh well, it is alright, but do tell me if you remember it later! :D

IC: The paladin nodded thankfully. "So this is a bright start." He thought "Thank you Helm." Then he looked up to the ranger (he still sat on the floor) "I sense the gentleness and generousity in your words, my good brother. Helm shall shed his blessings on you without holding back. I am Carlos Neiko, may I have the honor of knowing your name?"

After hearing his new brother's name, the paladin finally got back on his feet. "A good horse I lost there," Carlos muttered a prayer to the lost soul "I just started to like her." He made a solute to the river and the broken dock, and turned to his party "Well, it looks like we can move on now. If not mistaken, we travel on boat?" In fact, the paladin needed some rest badly. The explosion had hurted everything inside of him, he felt bleeding inwardly, but his old sense of honor forbided him to moan...

The unholy din had attracted groups of passers-by, standing from afar and whispering. An aggressive stranger... a magical beast summoned by an elf... best of all, a good punch-up, complete with drowning characters... the morning had certainly brought its share of excitement. A perfect distraction from the mundane lives of commonfolk.

Now that the fight has ended, the crowd dissipates as swiftly as it had formed. Completely apathetic to the casualties of the battle. After all, if they couldn't take care of themselves from a scratch of a battle like this, how would they survive the quest they proclaimed to be embarking on?

Mistral

Her forehead wrinkles and she purses her lips in contemplation... seeing the group of adventurers about to set off, she emits a single incoherent shout. Lady Luck is on her side; the gentle breeze sends her call to the ear of one member from the party.

Sprinting towards the person, she begins to gesticulate wildly, before withdrawing several potions of healing, antidotes and strength enhancers. She shoves them into the man's hands and looks at him wordlessly. Her eyes nevertheless betraying the longing she feels within. She opens her mouth, only to emit that grotesque sound again. Seeing the horror of the group, she shuts her mouth tightly. A single tear rolls down her cheek, followed by another... then another... soon, her cheeks are streaked with tears.

The seconds pass. The tension eats at her... she feels the party's impatience. Helplessly, she collapses on her knees. Bowing to them fervently, even with an air of insane desperation. As she gazes up, her dark brown eyes reflect the light of the early morning sun.


<font color="gold">Background

Cleric who is currently armourless and weaponless. Unable to cast spells because of a curse that has been placed on her.</font>

Compassion runs through the wounded paladin like the gentle breeze sweeping across the spring field. He went to the poor (old?) woman, and crouched down beside her. One strong hand held the wrentched woman's arm, offering some comfort. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" he worded softly "Can you understand me?"

Hearing the kind voice, she nods furiously. In her haste to clean up her act, she wipes her filth-stained hands hurriedly across her cheeks. Unaware that they are now streaked with dirt instead of only tears.

Yet it is all she can do. Nod. Without frightening them away. She blinks her eyes involuntarily, afraid of the tears returning.

The paladin puts his own hand on the dirt stained woman's hand and stopped her gentlely, instead he took out a piece of clean <font color="lightblue">handkerchief</font> and handed it to the poor woman. "Fear not" he breathed a little easier as an understanding look came from the woman "Good that you understand me." Turning he waved to a by-passer "Fetch me some paper and a pen, good Sir, and here is five copper pieces for your trouble"

While the woman cleaned her face, Carlos got his pen and paper "Can you write and read?"

"The poor thing's got to be hungry, go fetch some drink and some bread, will'ya?" He asked the same by-passer as he waited the woman's responds. The man ran off with the money happily, glad to gain some easy income

Her eyes brighten considerably at the sight of the pen and paper. She almost claws at them, so desperate is she for communication with her kind. Absorbed in her own world now, she scribbles fanatically, her handwriting nevertheless elegant and neat:

<font color="silver">Good Sir,

Forgive my intrusion into your fair party. I am in dire straits, having nowhere to go... the potions that I handed to you, were my only possessions.

I was born a noble lady and would have married well, but for my desire to serve as a cleric. My parents bade me follow my chosen path, but disowned me the day I stepped out of the house. I have just escaped from the temple that I serve, having discovered its evil core - so well was its guise of holiness. Yet I bear the mark for my impudence, eternally cursed by the High Priestess to remain a mute until the day I kill a magical beast with my own hands, unaided.

I know I can offer nothing in return, except meagre fighting skills, cooking meals and keeping watch during the nights.

I rely on you and your companions' goodwill. Please, let me follow you, and you shall have my word that there will not be a day when I prove to be a burden to you.

Mistral</font>