Part 2 of -The Shadow of Love -

[Larry_OHF]

A synopsis

The Candle Team are travelling South, near the Tower of Shadow, but not to it. They are searching for the artifact of "Larry's Candle". It is said to be hidden in the caverns that are in the mountains on the outskirts of the Shadow Mage's land. The are currently in the barren wasteland that expands South toward their goal, at night...and have spotted a rider approaching.


The Necklace Team are in the forests to the North, travelling towards the goal of retrieving the item called "Mistral's Necklace of Eternal Love".
They have battled a monster that has killed one of Tao's wolves, and she is taking measures to assist in it's passing. The others are resting, keeping watch, and becoming friends with one another.


The Reaper is a danger in the mountains of the most Northern part of our map, while the Shadow Mage is a danger to the Southern most point of our map, past more mountains. The Sea is to the East, and unmentioned territory lies to the West, most likely civilization of some kind. I'll let you know if an when the time is right.

[ 05-03-2004, 03:10 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor

Seeing all of his companions preparing for the encounter ahead he himself did so. He had already memorised the spell he would use, should it come to violence. He now walked over to his horse and from among his traveling gear took out his staff. And shielding himself from the view of the others in the group with his body he also took out from a hidden pocket in his saddlebag an amulet. The same amulet he had briefly used in the One Eyed Wolf Tavern. He doubted the situation would be so bad that he had to use it, however he always liked to be prepared for every possible scenario.

He walked up to the others and scanned the rider's progress leaning softly on his staff. Seeing that he was getting closer he turned to Silt: "Do your elven eyes see anything yet, Silt?" - he asked him.

[TAOWolf]

She finally stands and wipes the tears from her face, looking down at Virtue and whispers, "Grounder is with the ancestors now, Virtue... in a place of honor...
where you will be someday..."

She replaces her gloves, and with a tousle of Virtue's ears, she heads back to camp....

[Legolas]

Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98

In the darkness before night, on plains as vast and open as these were, distance was a master of deceit. By the time the elf was set to describe the sorrel to his companions, to mention the etched reddish metal of his plate or the warhammer held loosely in one hand, the piercing eyes were already visible to all in the group.
As the group was visible to him.

He reigned in his horse, turned it with his knees to stand parallel to the road several yards in front of them.
There echoed across the fields an uncomfortable silence as he scrutinised each face and physique in turn.
The wind blew softly in from the sea, a cool touch to the skin under his stubble-like hair.

His sources seeming correct, neither the witch nor the wizard with them, he radiated confidence. The hint of a smile flickered brielfy over his face, and he decided to start out simply before broaching the subject in full.

"Companions of Silverfall," he began, his voice calmly commanding.
"Friends or foes of the Modding Mage?"

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor

"As you yourself said we are companions of Larry Silverfall, so that should answer your second question. However we do not know who you are and who you serve. Identify yourself!"

[Morgeruat]

Roderik

"Greetings, It seems a bit early, and close to the mage's lands to speak either his name, or our alliances with Him. To speak the name of the dark one is to invite his eye, something I do not wish at this time."

The man looked slightly crazed, but then again who didn't in these dark times. He watched the others to gauge their reactions before releasing the dagger tucked into a sleeve sheath, nearly invisible unless one knew where to look. a flick of the wrist in the right manner would send the dagger either into his hand, or towards the target. (OOC Alot like the sheath Raistlin keeps his dagger in in the draglonlance books)

[Elif Godson]

Vincent Pathfinder 98/98


Grabbing a piecie of the newly roasted cow, Vincent wanderd over and grabbed most of the remaining strands of silver These will come in handy when turned into arrow heads he thought. Scanning the area with his elvish vision he saw a few creatures of the night here and there, but nothing seemed out of place, so he headed back into fire light still munching on his meat kabob. The slender knife that it was skewerd by had a silverish radiance in the fire light but looked to thin to be a fighting weapon but the glistening steel bespoke an inner strength to the blade which just under a foot in length. Sitting by the fire he looked around at his party and smiled contently. Reaching into his cloak he fished around for a moment and then his hand emerged with a yellowish round ball that looked like an onion. Sticking it on his knife on top of the meat he stuck it over the small camp fire, soon the air was filled with the slight scent of a roasting onion. After about five minutes of this he pulled it back and blew on it for a few seconds. Taking a bite of the meat and then the onion he chewd it heartily and gave a contented smile.

[RoSs_bg2_rox]

Silt 80/80 Silt was somewhat relieved when the man seemed friendly, he was genuine enough for Silt's liking and he was prepared to trust this stranger. Sheathing his two longswords he reached a hand out, "I am Silt, protector, follower and companion of Larry Silverfall, pleased to meet you, and you might be?

[Legolas]

Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98

The horse edging closer to vegetation by the roadside, he forced it to sidestep left, a few inches nearer the party. An unspoken command through the reins and it held its head up proudly as though on parade.

He checked the balance of his hammer, weighing the ornate weapon lightly beside his steed.

After three had spoken, he let slide harsh blue eyes past every one of them, forming initial opinions on each in turn.
Mistrustful, perhaps carrying a secret he'd prefer to keep hidden.
Uninformed, or a skilled actor feigning ignorance.
Simply naive.
He wondered whether the ones still silent were rightly fearful, calculating, timid or but in agreeance with the words already spoken.

He might find out later. For now there was a querry to reply to. He grew taller, sitting straight up now in the saddle.

"My name is Marcos of Snowdale. Inquisitor by duty and calling, witchhunter in the eyes of many uneducated."

He paused briefly, making certain he had their attention for his words to come.

"Larry Silverfall's purity is far from proven. I am here to gather this proof, failing that, to purge the remaining darkness from his body and soul.
"And indeed, already he has been heard speaking of restoring the long dead to life."

Again he halted, seeking eye contact with each of the group members in turn. In the ensuing silence, it was hard to tell for certain whether the man would carry on speaking or was expecting some reply.

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor 58/60

Still leaning on his staff he rubbed his cheek, where he had been hit by the swordhilt in the brawl in the tavern he noticed that the man who called himself Inquisitor was studying each of them one by one. He felt uneasy when his gaze fell on him, but outwardly showed no sign of this. "Larry Silverfall only wishes to see his wife again. Surely nothing could be wrong with that. Besides how can we know that we can trust you? You are a lone traveller in lands corrupted by the Modding One. You could easily be his servant. I am not saying you serve him, just that we need some proof to be able to trust you." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other still staying in a position ready for anything.