Ironworks Gaming Forum - View Single Post - Part 7>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

Morgeruat · 12-12-2005, 04:31 PM

Yevaud

The elf raised one eyebrow at being greeted in elven, the musical tones of the language caressed his ears like the touch of a long departed lover. The pronunciation was not mangled as humans did, nor was the syntax out of place, she had obviously studied with elves a long time, and could not possibly as human as a casual glance would suggest, for human tongues could never carry the power and grace of the elven langage; the flash and shifting of her eyes from purple to amber was proof of her non-human heritage. He nodded, and resumed his vigil, listening carefully at the door, sword sheath ready to release it's captive blade.

Morguerat

The knight began to focus after the speudo-phantom Joe cast did it's work and Larry launched himself recklessly forward. They were taxing themselves beyond their breaking points, Larry charging forward to die, and Joe exerting himself far beyond his capabilities. The former knight slapped himself, focusing on the sharp pain, Larry, his charge was trying to get himself killed, if he succeeded the warrior's actions here would have meant nothing, and a fate worse than more evil piercings would ensue. Trying to catch his breath with long deep breaths he stood, trembling, and stumbled towards the stairs, a mighty warrior could be felled by a single arrow, he thought grimly, he would demand many from this archer before giving himself over to Helm's judgement. Even as he stepped up into the stairway and began to gain as much speed as the for would allow he drew the sword, listening to the comforting sound of metal sliding across leather, the unfamiliar grip already become almost an extention of himself. He tried to tighten his grip, but he could not feel strength behind it. As much as he was making a show of valor, the terror in his heart was robbing him of strength, and he was not sure if the slow pace was due to the spell, or a sense of being detached from the events unfolding, observing, powerless from behind his own eyes, hoping he had the strength he had boasted of.

OOC: unless Morguerat can pull himself together his attacks will be made as if under the effects of a ray of enfeeblement, due to the "flight" adrenaline he's battling.

[ 08-01-2006, 03:14 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

12-12-2005, 04:31 PM	#67
Morgeruat Jack Burton Join Date: October 16, 2001 Location: PA Age: 45 Posts: 5,421	Yevaud The elf raised one eyebrow at being greeted in elven, the musical tones of the language caressed his ears like the touch of a long departed lover. The pronunciation was not mangled as humans did, nor was the syntax out of place, she had obviously studied with elves a long time, and could not possibly as human as a casual glance would suggest, for human tongues could never carry the power and grace of the elven langage; the flash and shifting of her eyes from purple to amber was proof of her non-human heritage. He nodded, and resumed his vigil, listening carefully at the door, sword sheath ready to release it's captive blade. Morguerat The knight began to focus after the speudo-phantom Joe cast did it's work and Larry launched himself recklessly forward. They were taxing themselves beyond their breaking points, Larry charging forward to die, and Joe exerting himself far beyond his capabilities. The former knight slapped himself, focusing on the sharp pain, Larry, his charge was trying to get himself killed, if he succeeded the warrior's actions here would have meant nothing, and a fate worse than more evil piercings would ensue. Trying to catch his breath with long deep breaths he stood, trembling, and stumbled towards the stairs, a mighty warrior could be felled by a single arrow, he thought grimly, he would demand many from this archer before giving himself over to Helm's judgement. Even as he stepped up into the stairway and began to gain as much speed as the for would allow he drew the sword, listening to the comforting sound of metal sliding across leather, the unfamiliar grip already become almost an extention of himself. He tried to tighten his grip, but he could not feel strength behind it. As much as he was making a show of valor, the terror in his heart was robbing him of strength, and he was not sure if the slow pace was due to the spell, or a sense of being detached from the events unfolding, observing, powerless from behind his own eyes, hoping he had the strength he had boasted of. OOC: unless Morguerat can pull himself together his attacks will be made as if under the effects of a ray of enfeeblement, due to the "flight" adrenaline he's battling. [ 08-01-2006, 03:14 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]