OOC: I know the grimlocks are blind, and that the hound has a keen sense of smell, but I figured even if there is a slight advantage allowed by improved invisibility, it would be better to have it then to just keep the spell.

<font color=lightgreen>For Syrathic</font>

<font color=thistle>Movement is easy in the wide corridor, but the air here is heavy with the odor of blood and flesh that has begun to decay. The sound of voices, excited and quarrelsome, easily masks the noise of careful movement, and other sounds become apparent as well – the noise of flesh being cut away from bone and the placing of what must be large slabs of meat into containers. Both stink and sound become more intense as one rounds the bend and the passage opens into what must be a very large chamber whose entrance is dimly lit by yet more remnants of exploded glyphs of some sort. Lingering near the edge of the glow a lone shadow mastiff is busily chewing on a scrap of meat roughly the size of a human thigh. A blade strikes the creature as it swallows and before the blow is even felt a second blade strikes it as well. Gasping on its partially swallowed meal, the creature turns only to be struck dead by still another blow.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=lightgreen>Syrathic</font> - You were able to achieve surprise on the creature – this allowed you 4 attacks, 3 of which hit. The shadow mastiff is dead without having been able to bark out a warning. Whether or not the grimlocks noticed anything is yet to be determined.</font>

Dantes strains his ears listening for some sign that the something has found Syrathic, or that Syrathic has been successful. Spell components at the ready, Dantes prepares to cast a spell quickly if need be. There is no telling what this band of grimlocks might do.

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic left-hand blade struck just mere moments after the first had found its mark. The beast had been chewing on a big chunk of meat and was unprepared for Syrathic's sudden attack. A slash of the left-hand blade missed, but the right-hand one found its mark once again, and the beast fell dead without even making a sound.

The elf quickly held himself against the wall, keeping still as he tried to hear any sound that the grimlocks ahead had noticed his attack. He didn't notice any sign that htey had noticed, so he decided to risk moving ahead to see if there were only grimlocks ahead. He heard sounds of meat being cut and tossed into containers, which could mean a large number of grimlocks to take care of. Better to have a good estimate this time, the elf thought.</font>

<font color=skyblue>As she enters the cleft, she pushes back the hood of her Warder's Cloak, and lightly taps her staff to the rocks... The moonstone set in the top of her rowan staff glows gently, and her eyes cast silver light forward.... Silver tears roll down her cheeks as she spots the owls lying on the ground.

She stops, reaching out with an ungloved hand, and holds one in her palm, softly singing it and its mates to the sky... She gently lays the owl back down, and stands.......

She raises her hand to the platinum bracer around her neck, stroking the moonstone set there, her eyes filled with pain and rage.....

She tilts her head to the side as a faint whisper comes from the very air.... She listens, then shakes her head, slamming her staff to the rocks again, and whispers back

"How dare you....... How dare you desecrate what is already been desecrated..... How do you know me? The windbringer? He would never have anything to do with you....... And why do I feel I know you?.......Be warned, Wind.......I will not be played with......"</font>

<font color=lightgreen>For Syrathic</font>

<font color=thistle>It is a chamber of impressive size, dimly illumined in places by what seem to be the crushed remnants of glowing stones. The temperature here is cold enough to be uncomfortable and icy patches are present upon the floor and walls. It is the cold, perhaps, that has kept the enormous corpse from rotting quickly. Even in the faint and spotty light of this place the fallen dragon is an impressive sight. The Grimlocks, being sightless, show little concern for the pitiful majesty of the dead beast and perceive it rather as little more than a source of food, a source great enough to have them eating well for some weeks to come. The sound of blades enthusiastically hacking into the corpse and of great slabs of meat falling onto the stone floor has a sickening resonance here and were the chamber fully illumined, such work would present a truly grisly sight. The combination of their erratic movement and the thick shadows here makes it difficult to determine their numbers – two dozen would seem to be a reasonable guess. They are lead by a hulking brute who stands nearly a full seven feet tall. Off to the side there is a noise of jangling chains that is followed by a hard blow and the groaning of what seems to be a gnomish voice.</font>

[ 01-09-2003, 11:34 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

OOC: just waiting on a report from our hound killer to start the mayhem. [img]tongue.gif[/img]

<font color=indianred>Brendon

Brendon was getting anxious. What if the elf was captured without sound? What if he had been killed, and that the beasts knew of their presence? How would any of them ever know? Brendon began to fidget, and looked around at his companions, trying to discern if they felt the same. </font>

OOC>>>Just posting to suit my appetite. I will not amke any efective moves out of place...but enjoy adding in these little tidbits to pass time.

[ 01-09-2003, 06:26 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

ooc: I have to find out what I see first before I can report it! [img]tongue.gif[/img] But I figured you guys would be used to my late posting times by now! ;)

ic:<font color=lightgreen> Syrathic creeped forward to get a glimpse of what was happening in the cavern ahead. The temperature began to drop the closer he came. The Elf shivered; he did not like the cold and was not dressed appropriately.

He approached and saw that the grimlocks were in a large chamber, lighted by crushed glowing stones. It was not a well-lighted place, but it was enough for the elf to be able to make out objects in the chamber. He could spot patches of ice, here and there; it must be even colder inside the chamber, he thought.

The shadows made it hard to determine the exact number of Grimlocks; there were a lot of them however, and Syrathic guessed there to be about two dozen. But more importantly, he spotted a large form towering over the Grimlocks; it was obviously leading them. "The most dangerous of them all, no doubt. Although I can't imagine that being swarmed by those Grimlocks would be very good either."

In the background to all the noise, he could hear the jangling of chains. Straining to hear, the Elf was able to pick up the sound of a hard blow being delivered, then the groan of a voice; Gnomish it sounded like. The Elf's heart went out to the victim. "The poor guy. Dankorona won't be happy to hear about this. But we've got to do something about it."

He turned his eyes back to the Grimlocks, wondering what they were cutting up. He looked harder, and when he saw, he took a few steps back in horror. "By the gods! That's a Dragon!" For a moment, all the Elf could do was gasp in awe. Finally, he turned away from the grusome sight and went back to the rest of his group.

He kept to the wall, and when he was in sight of his companions, he began to tap on the wall, signalling that he had returned. Syrathic was visibly shaken by what he had seen as he began to describe what he had seen. "They've... killed a Dragon and cutting up its meat and storing it!" he whispered fiercely. "There's about two dozen, maybe more, Grimlocks there at work, that I could see. They're lead by some kind of big brute, taller even than Morguerat! We must take care of him quickly." He paused and looked at Dankorona. "I could also hear the sounds of a Gnome being beaten as well. I dare say that there are more of those hulking brutes around, and when we attack more will come as reinforcements."

Having reported his findings, Syrathic looked to the others to hear their plans. No need to charge in rashly this time. "It's also very cold down there. There's ice patches on the cavern floor, so we'll have to watch our footing as well," he added.</font>

Dantes notices Brendon's impatience and reassures the lad in a low tone.
"Don't worry lad, Syrathic can take care of himself. Besides he's got us for backup."
Dantes tried to sounds reassuring, but he could tell from Brendon's reactions that he was not very successful, so he then attempts to make small talk.
"So Brendon what got you into archery, you seem to be quite the marksman with that bow of yours."
Dantes tried to sounds casual and unworried, but his voice cames out hoarse and weak. Be it the oppressive darkness all around them, or the ominous feeling of a hundred million tons of stone above their heads Dantes could not tell, but he could tell that group getting discouraged and was a little strained from their ordeal thus far. They had been travelling for a while underground without any answers to the questions that brought them there, and they had faced nothing but hazards and potential enemies since begining on their quest, not to mention their healer had wondered off on some quest for his god or something, leaving the party in dire straights as far as healing that may need to be done on them. It didn't take elven eyesight to see that their quest to rid Ironworks of the ravaging hunger was not going well. Dantes could only hope for the best and carry on. He knew going in that this wasn't going to be easy, all he could do was hope and carry on. Hope. . . and carry on. . .

OOC: just messing around a bit [img]tongue.gif[/img]
and nothing against you leaving Cerek I completely understand, I was just RPing from my character's perspective, but I did want to add that I do hope you make it back by the time we wrap this up it is always good RPing with you [img]smile.gif[/img]