LOF: Awakenings

[ZFR]

Xaver

Xaver cooled down a little and realized that attacking blindly won't yield any good results. He lowered his shield a bit, then slowly advanced forward towards the ettin. Rather than attacking it straight away, he would wait for it to move first, and then try and aim for its arm, head or torso, if he could reach them.

[Morgeruat]

Oley

Oley considered Gillian first, Kuankreid seemed a bit impatient, a fatal flaw in those seeking knowledge of how to bind powers that could unravel the cosmos.

“I haven’t taught in decades, Gillian,” the archmage said regarding the youth with a critical eye, “Truth be told, I wouldn’t know where to begin to teach you to feel the magic around you, nor have I used the basic cantrips used by apprentices in, well, likely almost as long as your elven friend there has been alive. So I’ll ask you two questions, what do you know already, and what are you willing to do for knowledge?”

Pointedly ignoring the rude elf as he turned, Oley smiled at Ainyra, “I have seen the Silver Forests, and their peoples are not unknown to me, though in the terms of us mortals, it has been a very long time. Do the black squirrels still defend the treant Moldyroot near the forest’ Moonwell?” He then nodded at Vindson behind the other visitors acknowledging his presence while waiting for his answers.

[Larry_OHF]

Round 9

Chaos.
Battles are chaotic. Though men try to keep the scene of a battle organized by means of strategies and diciplines, the scene of a battle can never really be called anything but a field of chaos.

In the role-playing forum of the world of Ironworks, many battles have been waged in chaotic bloodbaths, usually ending in some monster's doom...though at times to the demise of the hero, by a mere roll of the dice. Such fate left to chance could never be considered anything but chaos. How one small act could lead to great destruction is difficult to understand, unless you've delved in Chaos Theory.

What would the dice of chance hold for this scene of carnage? Where will the numbers fall and who will be left standing to proudly boast that their gamble on the numbers falling in their favor has won the day?

The ettin was getting sick of this. The three attackers had come here to kill him, he finally decided. What he did not know was why? What had he done to them to make them so mad? And how is it that they fought back so well? They were indeed as fierce as any mountain lion he had ever encountered, but these were three, nor showed any fear as the advanced upon him now.

The ettin swung again at the dwarf and hit the upraised shield which seemed to have little effect on the dwarf behind it who took the blow well, sliding back a few feet on the ground before digging in his boots and stopping...and the shield suffered a dent, but not a serious one. While the ettin looked at the damage he'd done to the shield, the thief in the shadows attacked at the same time that an arrow flew through the air to hit the ettin in the right shoulder which made him roar in pain just as the thief landed his sneak attack from behind. Those two attacks caused the ettin to wheel around, looking for the attacker with the blade with his right head as the left eyed the archer again. Only one could be attacked, but how to choose? (DM checks an options roll...). The thief with the sneaking about needed to die now! The ettin came at Sever who was recovering his posture after the attack.

OOC>>>I am surprised that at least one of you is not doing everything you could be doing in this particular battle...with options that would serve very well at this time.

The shield protected Xaver from the attack and Xaver escaped damage.
The ettin has suffered damage. (He's down to 20% life).
The ettin is now engaged in a fight posture with Sever.


[ 04-24-2007, 12:00 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Armen]

Gillian

”I know a little Archamge Oley,” Gillian replied, “I have studied with private tutors in the city and on my own through books and scrolls. I can incorporate sound, smell and temperature into illusions and have learnt how to create a fire charm* but have been unable to cast it successfully.” Gillian considered the old mage’s second question for a moment before answering. “I will not lie to you Archmage Oley, I have little to offer. My family are moderately successful merchants but they do not approve of the choices I have made in my life and I have used nearly all of my personal funds on my education so far and the journey to Lockesville. My course is set though and if you consent to teach me I will do whatever you require in return.”

Pausing and reaching into his pouch Gillian took out a small jar and presented it to Oley. ”This is a divination ointment containing essence of the occuliar mushroom**. Please accept it either as a first token of my good intent or, should you decide to cut short our relationship here, in thanks for your granting me this interview.”

OOC:
* Spectral Force (III), Fire Charm (IV) – above casting level
** Material component for True Seeing

[Morgeruat]

Oley nodded back at Gillian, "I accept your gift, if you speak the truth, you are better skilled than I thought you'd be, most who've asked have no knowledge and less talent with the Art. Very well, for your first lesson tell me, what in this room is real, and what is an illusion. Your determination to learn is what I request from you, I do not enjoy wasting my time with those who can't be bothered with a bit of patience" Oley's eyes then flicked towards Kuan, then took a drink from a flask that apparently he'd kept behind the desk.

[Sever]

Sever

Throughout his childhood, Sever had always enjoyed playing the sneak. Friends and family alike often sustained fright at his many 'Jack-in-the-box' type sudden appearances. So too did they feel the pinch when Sever learned and made use of their secrets for jest or spiteful revenge. But that was kid's play. It wasn't until he started using his talents for profit that he actually gave thought to the finesse required to achieve practical invisibility. True stealth, unaided by magical means, was an art its own right. Sometimes rapid and confusing, other times slow and delicate, the dance-like movements were something of a wonder to behold. (Or not, as it were). Mastery of movement was only half the trick though. Constant attention had to be paid to the perceived senses of those unaware to the dance. At all times, a thief had to 'see' with their eyes, 'hear' with their ears [bathe often ] and otherwise project their thoughts into his mind. Never did a thief dance in the presence of others without also doing, in his mind, whatever task they were doing.

Throughout his enlightened teen years, Sever had relished all of it. To him, it was thrilling. The dance, the guesswork and everything related to it. He may have grown up and turned his talents to profit, but the childrens game never stopped.

Why was Sever's childhood flashing into mind? Pure, unbridled fear.

Sever could not see the ettin but he could see himself through its eyes. He could hear the ettin and every sound hinted at the obvious. He could think the ettin's thoughts and this ettin wanted Sever to change his dance. A grim fandango was his desired option. Worst of all though, Sever could imagine the actions that would likely end his life. No matter how he played them out in his mind, no steps could he take to assure his escape.

Ignoring any option the dwarf could present, Sever instead reached out to the ranger. In one fluid motion, the desperate thief threw one of his throwing blades high, made a blind tumble beneath the enraged ettin and cried out to Pandaros.

"AIM HIGH!"

[ZFR]

Xaver

Xaver noticed with satisfaction that the battle was beginning to take its toll on the ettin. At the same time he was getting tired himself, and wasn't sure how long he and his companions, er... companion, would be able to hold.

Praying to Clangeddin to grant him more strength, and concentrating on nothing else but the strike he was going to make, the dwarf rushed towards the ettin. He heard someone shout loudly to him, telling him to aim high, but instead he aimed low, swinging his hammer with all his might at the creature's ankle.

[Kazilan]

Pandaros

The scout allowed himself a tight smile as the ettin roared its pain and frustration, his arm operating on its own to pull another arrow from his quiver. His happiness disappeared as Sever's voice rang out, an indicator that the thief could be in trouble. No matter how annoyed he was at Sever's disappearance, he didn't want the man to die. Pandaros fully intended to fulfill his vow to the god of wine, and he figured that Sever would be willing to join in the festivities.

Zeroing in on the ettin's roar and Sever's voice, Pandaros aimed high and fired in rapid succession, opting for quantity over quality.


[ 04-24-2007, 09:30 PM: Message edited by: Kazilan ]

[Calaethis Dragonsbane]

Kuankreid (& Ainyra)


“I think so” Ainyra replied to the archmage, screwing up her brow in concentration, “I haven’t been there in ages.” The frown turned to a shrug, “Not my kind of place. It’s very stuffy there and squirrels aren’t especially good company – unless you happen to have fruits or nuts to share.” The little sprite paused, “I expect you visited there long before my time.” She eyed Kuan, “And his, too. Please excuse him; he has not had a very good week. He’s not usually so… brusque.” Another shrug, “I guess vomiting over the side of a boat for weeks on end would make anyone irritable.”

“Ainyra, that’s enough!” Kuan retorted, glaring at the small sprite, “Whatever ailment I may have suffered is no cause for you to spread it around the entire town.”

“Oh come on, Kuan. He’s an archmage and if he found you worthy enough to pay any attention to, he’d already know.”

“Bah.” The elf’s eyes flickered back when Oley looked at him. “If you are referring to me, mage, I’ve been patient for more years then he’s been alive.” Kuan inclined his head towards Gillian, “And then some, no doubt. There is a time for patience and a time for answers. Action must be taken if one is to find answers and I fear I do not have time to waste.” he took a deep breath, “Allow me to start over. I have heard of an archmage in this area. I would know of any …cases, shall we say of a mage – a learned scholar, ever developing the powers of a sorcerer jointly and in conjunction to his mage powers.”

‘I will not flaunt my powers, nor display them. So do not ask me to.’ the elf thought inwardly; he would not be at all surprised if Oley could read his thoughts. ‘How is that for restraint?’

“Stop being such a jerk, Kuan. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to help you. I know I wouldn’t with an attitude like yours! It’s no wonder you left home! What’s happened to you anyway? You never used to be like this.”

“I guess time with the humans has jaded me.”

“Yeah right,” she snorted “More likely for the first time for years, you’re actually afraid. Lashing out at others won’t help.”

“And what if I am?”

“Then you’d be a fool to turn down any help. You know you should apologise; I can sense your thoughts, you stubborn elf. You’re lucky if he doesn’t blast you and sends you away unscathed. You'd better stop being such a brat before he gets angry.”

Kuan locked his gaze on Oley. “I have little to offer besides my thanks,” his features twisted for a moment, “And wine. Elven wine. Not that I’ll be able to enjoy it after suffering that cursed water. So it is of little use to me.” he sighed, “If you have no intention of aiding me, then I apologise for wasting your time and I take my leave. If I have offended you with my manner, again, I apologise. Time is short however, and I have little of it to waste.” Kuan waited patiently for a reply. Outwardly, he appeared calm, but inwardly, he felt jittery. He had not raised the question with anyone before; if this failed, he may even have to return home. He did not like that thought; better to stay in human lands then waste what felt like another hundred years searching for something that was not there.

[Morgeruat]

Oley

Oley nodded as Kuankreid spoke, an eyebrow raising as he mentioned the wine. He placed the flask back into the desk soundlessly. "I am indeed the archmage and sagacious sage Oley of whom you've heard. Your condition sounds intriguing, we should speak privately in a moment."

Oley smiled at the pixie, "Don't be harsh with her Kuankreid, I had a pseudodragon familiar once, a fine friend and companion, a far better friend than almost any of my companions in my adventuring days. The words are not always the ones one desires to hear, but they are the kind of words a true friend will not hesitate to offer, unpopular as they may be at the time."