Shadow's Rising [OPEN]

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

History of Kalmara:

-Burning Chaos 2209-3219
On earth, in the year 2209, the world has entered into a new age. Long past is the age of The Burning Chaos, when great machinations of destruction plagued the world, burning the world into nothing more than ash. For one thousand years these machines and their creators ruled mercilessly, their will destroying the earth bit by bit, a veritable apocalypse. It was during this time that the very fabric of reality itself was weakened, and torn asunder in certain places. These portals connected to worlds of existence, far removed from that of the earth. These portals connected to the places now known as the Elemental Realms, worlds of fire, ice, earth, and endless air, where a great being ruled each respective world. And then there was the Astral world. It was the opening to this world that caused the end of the burning age, with the influx of dark, twisted creatures that become known as Reavers. These twisted beasts roamed through the world, nourished by the destruction, and destroying the Great Machinations themselves.

However, there was another portal that opened up, one that provided protection and safety to the humans, and protection from what the world had become. So, nearly all of humanity, sick of the ash and darkness, fled into this other world, and renounced technology. However, things were not always to be well. Although a majority of humanity fled to the new world, so did many of the Reavers. It was only through a great effort and loss of life on the part of the humans that they were able to drive the Reavers into the Wastes of the North, where the Reavers took power.

-Reconstruction 3221-3427
Together, all of humanity began to reconstruct themselves, rebuilding a likeness of a Medieval civilization in a span of only 200 years. They spread throughout the continent, building where they could, and avoiding the planet's native humanoid race, the Farons, who lived in the Great Forest in the central of the continent. And, when humanity found the edges of its reach on the edges of the continent of Yvora, they built great ships to take them to other lands. The ones they succeeded in inhabiting were an island known as Solam, named after the great port city which had found it, and the continent of Agnar, which is still greatly uninhabited. However, the humans never traveled to one land mass very close to Yvora, just north of the great continent. This was the Northern Wastes, where the Reavers had been repulsed to, and where there was found a bottomless pit, known as the Abyss, from which inhuman screams continuously cry.

With humanity spreading, the cradle of civilization there was a city known as Midgard. The city become great and wealthy, and the city thrived. With its leader Carl Equino, the Scion of Midgard, the city is being led ever into greater prosperity, while still stictly adhering to never develop any technology that could destroy the world.

Bestiary:
For the most part, Kalmara contains all of the animals found on earth, with a few added in.

Dragons (yes, dragons) - These large reptilians live in many different types of terrain although they are most commonly found in mountainous terrain. Most dragons can be recognized by their immense size and enormous wing span, except there have been cases where Dragons have been mistaken for wyrms, lindwyrms, and Wyverns. And vice versa. Dragons can be recognized by their superior intellect and by the fact that they have more legs (wyrms, lindwyrms, and wyverns all have only two forelegs, except the wyrm, which has none). Dragons are indifferent towards man, and leaves them alone when left alone.

She'tar - The She'tar are a viscious race of humanoid beings with skin like a starless night, and eyes and hair that is unnaturally white. They mostly inhabit the Moors of Mist, the area surrounding the Abyss. They are split into nine seperate tribes, each ruled by the most powerful of the She'tar. These nine She'tar are characterized by unending life spans (as far as the humans know, immense size, strength, and an intellect far superior to a human's.

Reavers - These horrible creatures reside in the Northern Wastes, surrounding the Abyss and its mountain range. Reavers are distinctly characterized by their utter lack of resembling one another. All of different size, shape, and form, it is confirmed that though you may have never seen a Reaver, you will recognize it on sight.

Suska - These creatures can be found anywhere on the main land, save the Ur'Ranach to the north, and the Northern Wastes, which lie just beyond the water's edge of the Ur'Ranach. These cute little animals resemble small, furry dogs, but have many rows of iron hard, razor sharp teeth. Suska are completely harmless to the living, and will not attack even when provoked. Suska have insatiable appetites and are able to digest anything. They often act as disposals for unwanted things in populated cities.

Andorans - Found in the nothern hemisphere on Yvora, these warm-blooded reptilians are adept hunters. They have rough, hard scales, often white in color, and have long necks like a dragon. This neck supports a head with a long snout filled with many rows of fangs. These creatures are often twenty feet in length when fully grown, and have claws that are a length of up to two and a half feet. These creatures rival the dragons in intelligence, and have even learned to speak the human language.

Faron - Inhabitants of the Great Forest, these creatures are human, save for their lupine features.They are extremely agile, and very quick on their feet. Although smaller and weaker than a human, the Faron make up for this in speed and agility, being great acrobats.

Geography:
Northern Wastes - Divided into six parts, The Abyss is circled by mountains, known as the Moors of Mist. Beyond these mountains are four different wastes, each separated by mountain chains. They are: The Burning Wastes, the Storming wastes, the Frozen Wastes, and the Cursed Wood. Little is known of the wastes, seeing as the areas are uninhabitable by all but Reavers, and even the Reavers cannot inhabit the Burning Wastes.

Yrova - Yrova is the largest known continent in Kalmara. Its geography differs widely, with a great forest just south of the continent's center, and many mountains. Most of the continent consists of plains in the south, but the terrain becomes hills when traveling east. To the north is a land of mostly tundra, although the region along the northern end of Lake Rurin is much warmer. Located on the western edge of Lake Ra is a mountain chain called the Green Mountains. Located beyond these mountains is a forestal community of Humans that live in the forestal cities of Kush and Sylvis. On the eastern edge of Lake Rurin are the Shadow mountains. Beyond these mountains is a place known as the Shadow Vale. Only the eastern side of the continent, a mountain chain called the Eastern Moutains, separates the land from the sea. North of these mountains is the Ignia gulf, a large, shallow body of water. The main city of this region is a city called Yrov, named after the kingdom it is possessed by. Two rivers cut through the continent of Yrovia, the River Rurin and the River Armian. Both of these rivers cut through the Great Forests. To the south of the continent located on the coast is a city called Salem, a city of adventurers and sailors, mercenaries and merchants. Located northeast of Salem is the city Rena, which is separated by the River Armian. Rena is a large town, and its main industry is farming. It borders along the southern edge of the Great Forests. On the western side of the continent is the seaside city of Bremen.

Ur'Ranach - Being its own kingdom, this cold northern region of Yvora has been named this, and become its own kingdom. Its border is the northern edge of Lake Rurin, and there is only a little used highway creating a land bridge to this harsh kingdom. The practiced religion here is Ur'norak, a religion worshiping death.

Solam - An island lying southeast of Yvora, and its mother city of Salem, this is an island of endless prairies. No significant civilization exists on Solam.

Agnar - A place of endless woods, the two main cities here are both named Revian, and are called Northern or Southern Revian.

Story:
Ranuk sat upon his throne awaiting the arrival of his servant and the news of the outcome of the battle. He heard the sound of the large doors that led into the chamber release a load moan and his guard quickly pointed their spears, prepared to attack any unwelcome intruder, But instead of an unwelcome intruder it was Valen, head commander of Ranuk's She'tar, and the leader of the She'tar himself. The guards quickly retreated to their posts, not wishing to incur his wrath should they remain in position.

Valen quickly crossed the floor, and when he reached the dais he knelt before his master saying, "I have returned, liege."

Ranuk inclined his head to his servant and asked him, "How goes the conquest of the Elemental Plane of earth?"

"We have breached their defenses, as heavy as they were. I left an underling to keep the Reavers in check, but the defeat of the Earth Plane is imminent."

Ranuk nodded, a twisted smile coming across his gaunt features. "So then, only the Fire Plane shall stand in my way of having complete victory over my brothers and sisters. They shall regret having bound me for a millenia!"

The She'tar bowed before him asking, "What are your orders, my lord?"

"Take the lindwyrms to the rest of your brethren and shatter the will of the plane's inhabitants, show them the ferocity of the Astral plane of Shadow! And after you have done that, gather together all of the Reavers, lindwyrms, Ur'lach, lichs and She'tar! Artemis and the Plane of Fire shall fall, and then my victory shall be complete!"

Valen hesitated. "Nothing of the humans, sir?"

Ranuk let out a small cackle. "Those humans have no idea how important those Planes are to their survival... Now go!"

Rules:
1 - No swearing
2 - This shall be play by post.
3 - Characters shall be shown, giving the name, race, age, nationality(optional), and a short biography before you can actually begin. All sentient races are an option (i.e. Dragons, Andorans, Farons, Humans, She'tar).
4 - Each post must be at LEAST three lines. Proper use of grammar is a must.
5 - No double posting, please.
6 - If you have any questions about how you might work into the story, ask! Either send me a message or post OOCly.
7 - Please make your first post more of an intro. It will be best to have ALL the characters together (optimally) before we start digging in too deep.
8 - Have fun! This is a role-playing GAME, and be imaginative!

Also, here is the OOC, post here with character ideas and questions!

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

((To get some things started and to set the general scene...))

In the midst off the Great Woods, a deer stood grazing on the vegetation around it. A slight breeze blew across the grass on the ground and caused the leaves of the trees to shake on their branches.
Jerking its head to attention, the deer perked its ears forward, listening intently. Immediately, the deer jumped and began to run as another creature jumped it from behind and began to pursue it.

With the creature gaining on the deer, it made a sudden turn taken it closer to the southern edge of the forest and causing the pursuer to lag behind, trying to make up for the sudden change in direction. The deer kept running, exiting the woods completely and running towards a a farming village not too distant from the forest's southern edge.

Stopping, Sarik watched as the deer fled towards the Human habitation and cursed his luck. Humans were a dangerous species, and it was advised by the elders of his clan to never go near a Human habitation, for your own protection. Humans were a violent race, and had no respect for the lives of the creatures of the forest, or for the forest spirits. Nevertheless, Sarik looked at the village with a strange longing.

Suddenly, a strange thought came to Sarik's mind. What if I waited until the sun goes down? Looking at the already setting sun, it resolve was set. With that, a victorious smile spread across Sarik's face.

***
​

Crossing the ground between the forest's edge and the village swiftly, his gnarled ironwood staff gripped in his right hand. Coming upon a small house set slightly apart from the rest of the village, Sarik crouched down and looked about. Seeing no one, Sarik began to edge forward slowly, all of his sense on high alert for danger.

Abruptly, a wild barking began behind him, causing him to jump and turn to see a snarling dog behind him. Backing up slowly, the dog began to advance upon him. Then turning about, Sarik made a mad dash through the town, Sarik began to flee from the mad dog. With the dog in hot pursuit, Sarik made a leap over one of the house's porches... only to meet an opened door to the face.

Before he blacked out from the hard blow to his head, he remembered seeing a worried looking woman kneeling over him and the dog barking at him, staying its distance. Then, all went black.

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

((Double Post...))

 

[Shadowseldil]

(((I intend to take a few liberties for this opening post, sort of to get Drue's plot/subplot going. I will make any changes you feel necessary. It is long, so bear with it, please.)))

It had been several weeks now since the open assault on the Fire Plane had begun. The first attacks had been fierce and unexpected, though not entirely. There had been many skirmishes prior, but they had been fought back, so much so that an open war seemed unlikely. However, it came, and it seemed to be going poorly for those of the realm of flame.
They fought valiantly, and with unified might against the invaders, but in the end sheer number overwhelmed. They had slain already four fire elementals, the great lords of the realm who were thought immortal, which was a great blow to the morale of the defenders, as well as a great loss of might. Artemis had called for all people to raise up arms, and so it was that the first glimmer of salvation came.
The Svartalfar, a people of the Fire Planes and fine warriors in themselves, had long known of the secretive sect who called themselves flame dervishes, but regarded them in one of two ways; either with deep suspicion or with near indifference. The rumors about their "cult," as many considered it, were numerous and extravagant, but they kept mostly to themselves and so few concerned themselves about it. However, when the call came, the Dervishes answered, and the first sight of their fury set fear into ally and enemy alike. So swiftly they moved, so mightily they struck, so savage their glee; and their first attacked plumbed the depth of the She'tar's resolve. But it was only a temporary setback, as the sheer driving momentum of the onslaught was only slowed and not stopped, and every being of the fire plane seemed to hear the pealing of the last requiem.
No one knew the true plan of the Flame Dervishes. They had been preparing for long now, for they suspected inevitably the war to come.

He stood stoically on the ridge above the encampment. He was clad, fully wrapped in black leathers. It must be so. There is a thing there, like a fire but not, which hangs in the sky, that turns our flesh to stone. You must remain fully covered to prevent that. He recalled his master's warning before he began on this mission. It was hardly comfortable, but the leathers were fire-proof, and that was the most important. Besides, it was no hindrance to his movements.
He descended the ridge toward the camp. Secrecy would be the issue, but it would only last him so long. The Reavers, that is their name for the cursed Khan'qhi, will know you are there. Not by sight, nor by smell, nor by senses, but they will feel your presence. We can give you no way to hide from them. He would need to be swift, catch them unawares, and perform the ritual.
The ritual; that would be the hard part. He slid into the shadows of a crag not far from the encampment. Firstly, blood must be shed. A life must be taken and his blood must cover the blade. Then the ritual must be cast, but quickly. And finally, after the ritual has been sealed, you must take another life.
A sentinel passed by, but did not seem to notice the man watching him; at any rate he passed by and continued his vigil. The leathery figure darted into the cluster of yurts and tents. He found hiding relatively easy, as the encampment, while guarded, did not seem alert. Perhaps they thought they were safe, so far from the front lines, so secure in their secret knowledge. They would be wrong. Flames began to lick across the back of his taut fists, but, upon noticing this, the man took a deep breath and the flames vanished.
It was enough, though. One of the troop, hearing the faint noise, came to investigate. The two noticed each other about the same time, and a very brief but loud cry was given. The leathery figure had certainly broken the She'tar's jaw, if they indeed had jaws. He was lying sprawled on the ground, and even in his unconscious visions he was haunted by a huge, leathery, fist-shaped demon.
The intruder would have to move faster. However, whether by the whim of Lady Luck or the direction of Lord Fate, the cry was actually more of a boon than anything. For, as is usual in unprepared camps, when a loud cry is given, the first-most response is to rush to the source and abandon whatever important things one may have been guarding. With a little preparation, the intruder was able to make his way to the target unhindered, and even found what he wanted guarded by only two soldiers.
What it is, exactly, is a large sword, roughly four or five feet high, and a full foot wide. It will be red like a glowing rock. Do not fear, for though it will be heavy, your strength will be more than enough to carry it. It is called: "Crucible." Crucible stood, thrust into the ground, still in the midst of its most recent sacrifice. Its ruby-red surface had a stain of brown along its blade. At once, the figure considered it vile, but it would be necessary.
With a wild screech, the intruder rushed into the clearing. The two guards stared in stunned confusion as the figure rushed at them, unarmed They remembered themselves in time to draw their weapons, but it did little good. After the first thrust of one, it shattered under the fury of the attack. A kick drove him back, while the second was caught and thrown onto the ceremonial platform. The first, thinking better of attacking the strange warrior without a weapon, turned and ran, raising an alarm as he did.
Taking Crucible from the pedestal, he thrust it into the fallen soldier, smiting him to the ground. As the blood poured from the wounds, he smeared it on the blade. After doing that, he drew a silvery stone from his pocket. We have prepared this stone for the mission. It is, essentially the ritual; the prophets have forged it specifically that purpose. Activate it by fire, and place it on the ground. It will do the rest.
He clutched it in his fist, which burst briefly into flame. He opened his hand, and the stone had taken the colour of fire, the reds and oranges swirling like a real fire. This he placed next to the body. Once on the ground, a network of the spell curled out from the stone, each strand the same colour, glowing slightly. After a few minutes, the seal on the ground completed itself. Then the man spoke, crying out words he had memorized: "Open, rift of the worlds, and give me the way!"
The seal blazed with a red light.
"Get him!" a loud shout sounded behind him. The forces of the encampment had found him, and they were ready to stop this intruder from stealing the sword. The Reavers rushed at him, their myriad of appendages giving the clear impression that this being would be devoured soon. With a great cry of war, he brought the massive blade into the first of the Reavers that reached him and praised the fires that these monsters were more fierce than clever.
At that moment, there was a bright flash of Aether. Even in his full cover and dark veil, it hurt his eyes. Then there was something else, and the world did what the man could best describe as a round-house kick. He felt himself falling and standing on the ground at the same time, which in itself was enough to cause him to drop the sword. When he did, the world decided it had had enough fun and stopped.
First of all, he noticed the ground, which had been slate and stone, was now green and furry. Secondly, and this drove the first from his mind quickly, he noticed that several reavers and one She'tar were standing there, looking very much as stunned as himself. The reavers recovered first, and were on top of the leather man before he could properly defend himself. However, the first reaver was mostly tentacles and slime, and in a few moments, he threw it into another that was about to pounce. The She'tar began walking forward, staggeringly, at first, but recovering. The leathery man fought and broke one of the reavers, but hurt himself in the process and tore a bit of the leather. He felt at once the stinging, searing pain unlike any other he had felt rush into his arm where the leather had torn. He feared a toxin in the reaver, but remembered the talk about flesh turning to stone.
He began to remember himself some, and his fists burst into flame. He rushed at the She'tar, throwing fire into his face. As the She'tar shielded himself, a fist drove into his head, driving thought from him.
It was not long before he dispatched the remaining Reavers. Then it was about Crucible. He took from a small sack a long strip of iridescent, scaled leather. The words of his master came back to him: We have obtained for you this: it is the skin of a salamander. As you know, the salamander is known to be immune to all magics. Wrap the Crucible completely in the skin, and no amount of magic will help the infidels find it. He began the delicate process of wrapping the sword, being sure to wrap every part of the blade, from tip to hilt.
Once this was accomplished, he examined the tear in his leather armour. It was in his forearm, and he could see the skin turned to stone through the tear. He had spells to recover himself, but first he would need to repair and cover the rip. This was done with little effort, as the armour was made to be self-covering. This done, he picked up Crucible and strapped it across his back. Afterward, he searched for and found the ritual stone, which was now back to its original state, and placed it into his small satchel. He then began surveying the surroundings.
Above all, once you are there, understand that it is most probable that you will never return to these land. You will be stuck there. It is a harsh land, and the people there are fierce and violent. Either you will die in defeat, or live a banished life in that land. Are you prepared to do that?
"I am," he heard his memory say.
Then go, Drue Kry'bhri, and know that the prayers and blessings of your people go with you. If you succeed, your name will live on as the greatest hero of the Svartalfar.
He saw what appeared to be a village in the distance. There was nothing to it. He would need food, and he was in no state to hunt for it. He had a few gems, valueless in his own land, but he was told would be valuable enough in this land. He would have to try going there and getting something to eat. Hopefully the people of the land would not be as cruel as they were portrayed.

 

[Pressing_On]

Ambrose had been staying in the small town of Qwelln for some days now. The main industry of the hamlet was in furs and Ambrose, or rather Kermit Mueller, had obtained a comfortable and well-paying job as a furrier's assistant. He had been hired to check a set of traps and bring the animals back to the furrier, to be paid by the animal. This consisted, mainly, of him sitting under a tree most of the day, gathering the pelts from a handful of boys who had been recruited to check the traps for him. He paid them out of a vast sack of Cooei Nuts imported from Agnar which he had obtained from his last stop. The Cooei plant has many unique properties, not he least of which is its highly addictive, though completely harmless, nature.

Ambrose was lounging under a tree in the village square with his cap pulled down over his eyes. He had been paid for bringing in 15 furs that day and had only had to part with 8 Cooei nuts. Now that's what I call a hard day's work In the distance he heard a small commotion and wondered if there was a bar fight. This seemed unlikely, as this was a small unsuspecting town, and this rarely lead to bar fights in his experience. He lackadaisically brushed a fly away from his nose. There was another outburst from the commotion. Well I might as well check it out, it's not like anything interesting ever happens here. And that was exactly the way he liked it.

((Awesome post Shadows! This is nothing to follow it, but it'll have to do. Even though nothing really happened.))

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

The doors entering into Ranuk’s throne room opened suddenly, and a small She’ tar wearing armor emblazoned with the insignia of the She’ tar army rushed into the room, a look of terror on his face.

Turning, Valen, who had been in conference with Lord Ranuk, faced the horrified soldier, who began to babble incoherently at his commander and making hasty gestures, as if trying to make his words even more clear. However, the stream of gibberish was quickly stopped whenever the stammering soldier was slapped across the face by the commander. “Get a hold of yourself man! Now, tell me slowly what has happened.”

Taking a deep breath to steel himself for the ordeal ahead, the man spoke hesitantly. “It’s the Fire Plane, sir. It’s… It’s…”

Valen’s glowing eyes narrowed as he glared at the man. “It’s what? What is it?”

The soldier took a deep breath and said quietly. “It’s been cut off.”

Suddenly, a cacophony of thousands of voices crying out could be heard as Ranuk leaped to his feet, yelling in impotent rage, the dissonance of the voices subsiding only after he visibly fought to control himself. Turning away from his men, Ranuk inquired silently, “How long ago?”

Fear visible in his eyes, the soldier looked to his commander for assurance and replied, “Just a moment ago, Lord. I came to tell you as soon as we realized what had happened.”

Ranuk nodded his head slowly, mulling over this new information. After a few minutes of silence, Ranuk turned to his servant Valen. “It seems we’ve had a change of plans. My sister Artemis seems to be more clever than I remember her. But it is no matter. We shall find the key again very soon.”

Raising a bony hand before him, dark tendrils of power began to flow from the palm of Ranuk’s left hand, forming a levitating sphere of darkness above his hand. Concentrating intently on the sphere, Ranuk looked into for a few moments before giving a pained sigh.

“She has outsmarted me once again, by hiding the key from my eyes, no matter.” Facing his general, Ranuk said to him, “Valen, I have a new job for you. You do remember the priests of Ur’ Ranok, correct?”

After receiving a nod, a malicious grin crossed Ranuk’s face. “Good. It seems that we finally have a purpose for their power. I need you to retrieve the Ur’ Guard from them and set them to scour the land of Man. The key will be somewhere within this realm.”

Valen kneeled before his master, and then stood again and left through the room’s large doors, the timid She’ tar soldier close behind.

***​

A loud groan issued from Sarik as he groggily opened his eyes and looked about him. Starting suddenly, Sarik nearly jumped off the bed at the sight of a wide-eyed little girl looking at him curiously. Staring back at the girl, Sarik examined her cautiously, peering at her suspiciously. Then, laying his ears flat against his head, Sarik bared his teeth at her and in response the little girl shrieked and scurried off.

Sarik was suddenly startled and fell out of the bed he was in when a distinctly feminine voice from behind the bed asked, “Now is that any way to treat the people taking care of you?”

Looking up from where he was sprawled on the floor, Sarik saw a short, stout, and homely woman looking down at him with a smile on her face. “Well? Are you going to lie on the floor all night or are you going to introduce yourself?”

 

[Shadowseldil]

As Drue walked into the town, it was clear that the people had never seen the like of him. Two of the crowd, which was about five people, gave short cries and rushed away. The others sort of hid themselves against walls or whatever was near. Drue came closer to one sitting behind an open market stall. The man had a panicked look in his eyes, but his face tried not to show it, since there was little he could do to escape anyway.
Drue placed a hand on the counter to steady himself; his mind was reeling more now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Food," he said simply.
"Beg your p-pardon?" The man replied, obviously nervous but trying to be less obvious.
"Food," Drue repeated, leaning closer.
"I-I don't sell food," the man said defensively, as if he did not want the news to upset the stranger, "I sell furs."
Drue passed for a moment and said, slowly, "Butcher?"
"Down the street, that way," he added, pointing, and glad to send this menace somewhere else, "Can't miss it."
Drue turned and walked in the direction the man pointed. Later on, at the bar, the others bought the merchant a drink for his bravery, or rather, the fact that they were too scared to do anything themselves. It made them somehow feel less like an absolute craven.
The merchant was right, though; you could not miss the butcher's shop, mostly because of the smell of smoking meat which came from it. Smoked meat sold well to the fur trappers, who could spend days out in the fields sometimes before bringing their wares into town. The savour of it wafted down the street like an enchantress, beckoning Drue to come, buy her a few drinks, and maybe get to know her better. Drue followed willingly, and in moments the shop door opened. A bell at the top of the door rang, and at once Drue sprang into alertness. Several people, who had come to buy meat for dinner, turned, looked at the stranger, and thought salad sounded mighty tasty, really, and left in a hurry, one even giving a short exclamation as he passed Drue on his way out.
Vicious, not so much, but easily frightened and noisy. Sort of like a ferret, although what Drue knew as a ferret lived in magma pits. These people were a lot paler, too. Maybe it was the... what was it called, the sun? that made them like that.
The butcher came out to see the stranger in his bizarre leather suit. He eyed him suspiciously as he took a grip of his cleaver. He was, for all purposes, a burly and hairy man, fat some would say, with strong arms. His bulbous nose struck Drue as strange, for up until now he had never seen one. In fact, fat people were a rarity, though he had seen one, a lazy ruler, he recalled, but this human was not like him at all, he could tell. Too much muscle about the arms. Maybe it was a suit of armour, perhaps. At any rate, the butcher looked at him and said, "Whatchawant?"
Drue furrowed his brow. That was a new word to him. "Beg your pardon?" he attempted.
"What do you want?" the butcher said, a lot more pointedly and, Drue thought, a little menacingly.
"Food," Drue said simply. He reached for his satchel and pulled out a gem. We would call it a diamond, but in Drue's world, there was so much heat, and a lot of pressure in some places, diamonds were fairly common. He set the diamond, about the size of a grape, onto the counter.
The butcher looked at it with awe, which Drue noticed, and though perhaps he should get some change in return. Some common currency would be helpful. The butcher looked at the diamond, and back to the man, then back to the diamond. Finally, he made his decision, and said, "Whatchawant?"
"Food," Drue repeated.
"I know food, what food?"
The stranger was silent for a moment, and said, "Jerky?"
"What kind jawant?"
This dialect was throwing Drue some, and so he tried again with, "Beg your pardon?"
"What kind of jerky!" the butcher said, getting a little aggravated. "Beef, venison, chicken, rabbit?"
Drue looked down for a moment, then tried, "Yes?"
"What, all of them?"
"Yes," he said, a little more confidently.
The butcher looked at the diamond again, and said, "Okay. How much jawant?"
Drue was catching on by now, and held out his satchel for the butcher to see. The butcher eyed the bag carefully, and replied, "Okay, Give me a second."
As the butcher turned, Drue breathed a sigh of relief. As the reader might have guessed by now, Drue was not very fluent with what most would consider the common language, having never used it before his preparation for this mission, having the language of his own people. The masters had taught him what they had learned when a time had caused them to venture into the outside world, but even so, it was a fast course and he had little time to work it out. He was glad that it was working.
The butcher returned with several weeks supply of jerky, more if Drue stretched it. This he set on the counter. "'ere ya are," the butcher said. He then reached for the diamond, but Drue's hand latched onto his wrist like a lunging serpent.
"Moneys," Drue said, tapping a finger on the counter to signify his wants.
"Ah," the butcher said nervously, for two reasons. The first was that he was not sure the exact value of the diamond (but guessed he could buy a large portion of the town with it), and did not know exactly how much change the customer would want. The second reason was he had felt in the stranger's grip such strength that he knew it best not to shortchange him. "Well, let me see what I can do."
As the butcher began to place some amounts of currency on the table. As he did, Drue looked at the meats, and an overwhelming hunger hit him. Perhaps he should have waited, but his trip through the void had caused him to be out of humours, and a bit of food would do him good. He looked around, but the room had no windows facing the sun, and the door was fast shut. He took the veil from his face, carefully, picked up a bit of jerky, and bit off a hunk of it. The savour was new to him (it was a bit of the venison), and he gave a pleased sigh as he chewed.
The butcher, who was still getting some change from under the counter, recognised this sigh. A craftsman always appreciates it when someone is pleased with his work, no matter how bizarre the circumstances. "Glad to see you like it," he said honestly as he brought some more money to the counter. His expression changed when he saw the face, though. "A She'tar!" he said loudly and, Drue recognized, angrily, "I should have knew it at once! We don't take to your kind here, so shove off and take this with you!" He hurled the cleaver at Drue, which, even in his surprise he managed to dodge. He checked once to make sure there was not actually a She'tar behind him that he had missed in his stupor. When he realized, though, that the cleaver was meant for him, he turned back, bared his teeth and growled at the butcher, who was reaching for another cleaver. With a whoop, he pounced at the butcher, knocking him to the ground and leaving Drue on top of him. The butcher cowered, partly because of his position, and partly because the place where Drue was gripping his shirt was burning. Drue's other fist was ready for another blow, fire licking across the back of it, but he stopped as the butcher cowered. His teachings had said not hit a foe who had surrendered, and Drue also knew that the attack came because the butcher mistook him for a She'tar. These creatures must not know the difference between the two races, he thought.
He got off the butcher, who hastily put himself out. While he still cowered on the floor, Drue spoke clearly to him, saying, "I am not cursed She'tar." He collected the money the butcher had laid out, a notable sum in truth, quickly put the jerky in his satchel, which filled it nicely, and began replacing his veil. Once in place, he took the diamond from the counter and tossed it to the butcher. Then, he left.
The butcher, who was left with a scar on his chest due to the encounter, found the diamond to be of great value. He could not bring himself to part with it, however, and gave it to his eldest daughter on her wedding day. However, he never talked much the stranger, but would always say it was best not to judge someone by their looks, and often was seen fingering his chest where a fist-shaped burn mark lay.
As Drue walked out the door, looking to make sure the butcher was not following or preparing to throw something else at him, he bumped into someone else. He took a defensive step backward as he faced whoever it was he had bumped into.

(((You can take the cue if you want, Pressing, if not it will just be more hapless people to terrify.)))

 

[Pressing_On]

When Ambrose had finally roused himself enough to actually go investigate the strange commotion, he found the village strangely deserted. Where are all the kids? Seeing a small knot of village men standing in a nearby alley he walked in that direction. They were speaking in hushed tones and were not looking his direction. "Hoy there fellows, any news?" At the sound of his voice all four men nearly jumped out of their skin. One man even took three quick strides forward as though beginning to run away before another man turned to face the voice and said "O it's just old Kermit!" Old Kermit? Really do I look that old? "There's a strange man in town" another explained.

Ambrose chuckled, "A strange man, eh, well that doesn't sound like good cause to board up the town, you didn't treat "Old Kermit" in such a way." These townsfolk were so fickle

Feeling a tad put out that Ambrose had laughed at him and feeling ever so slightly ashamed that he was hiding in an alley the man continued, "You laugh now Kermit, but not so when you see him. He went in the direction of the butcher's. Fynni says he saw the man go up to Het and ask for food, and Het actually pointed him in the way of Larm's!"

All of this information seemed extremely silly and inconsequential to Ambrose, but as he had already taken the trouble to get up to investigate this little mystery he decided to get to the bottom of it. No doubt it was some poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of war who looked worse off than himself and had scared the sheltered townsfolk. He ambled off to the butcher shop only to be taken off-guard by being bumped into by the very man he had gone in search for. He was easily recognizable to Ambrose, as he was certainly a strange sight, wrapped head to toe in leather and carrying some sort of very large object on his back. Momentarily alarmed for Larm he glanced through the door of the butcher shop, but seeing him was standing there, alive, he decided that maybe the stranger wasn't so dangerous as everyone believed. He certainly did look a little skiddish though.

"Hello stranger." he said simply, but kindly, in his laid back manner. No doubt the poor man needs only not to be feared.

 

[Shadowseldil]

Drue eyed the person suspiciously, but he did relax slightly, lowering his shoulders. He recognized the greeting, and replied in kind. "Hello," he said in a deep and wild sounding voice, with an accent of unclear origins.
He still stood in a defensive stance, and glanced from side to side at least once. For all he knew, this was the town hero sent to deal with the "She'tar," and maybe he had help waiting in the shadows. Or it could just be someone who was either very curious or perhaps very dumb. Either way, he did not want to make more enemies than he had to make. He had plenty of them already.

 

[Pressing_On]

((Is it day or night for us? Hmmm...))

The stranger's monosyllabic answer struck Ambrose as very odd. He could not at all place the accent...Agnar perhaps? That seemed likely to him. He had never been to Agnar himself, and few but sailors ventured to Yrova from there. Convinced that this stranger was from Agnar, and fairly convinced that he meant no immediate harm to anyone here he tried to put the stranger even more at ease. Shoving one of his hands into his pocket he popped a Cooei nut into his mouth and spoke around it as he chewed. "Seems ye've scared some of the populus with your strange ways. Nevermind them though, if you mean no harm, you'll not come to any harm." I think People were very suspicious and tended to do rash things when people were different. It was odd that the man was wrapped from head to toe in leather, but there was likely a good reason for that, perhaps he had been badly burnt and wrapped himself to hide the scarring. No matter to him, he'd not pry in another man's business. "Cooei Nut?" he asked, offering up one of the delectable nuts from his pocket. If the man was from Agnar, he probably liked them.

 

[Shadowseldil]

Drue listen to the man, but words like "populous" and "Nevermind" were new to him, and it took a moment to process the whole of the conversation. He figured it was sort of an ultimatum: do not make trouble, or there will be trouble. Still, this man did not present himself in a threatening manner.
However, the most diplomatic thing that could be done was the offering of food. Relaxing mostly, though still visibly tense, he at once laid upon the offer, seeing that Ambrose ate one himself, and still being hungry. He went to place it in his mouth, but realized that he had forgotten about the veil he must wear for protection. It would be impossible to eat it like this. Instead, he opened his sachel, placed the nut inside with the rest of his provisions, and said, "Thank you." Extending his right hand per the greeting he was taught, he added, "I am Drue Kry'bhri. Who are you?"

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

Sarik sat at Kaitlyn's table, eating the food she had placed before him. In the corner the woman's father sat in an old rocking chair smoking a pipe full of tabac and looking at the visitor ponderingly. When Sarik was done eating he looked about curiously unsure of what he should do now.

However, Kaitlyn soon came bustling into the room with her young daughter clutching to her leg. "You're coming with me," she said in a commanding tone to Sarik. "You look like you need to get out, and it will do the townsfolk good to see that you're gentle enough.

Sarik looked a bit surprised but agreed readily enough. He did want to get out into the open again and he supposed it would be good to mingle with the Humans. If he found out that the Humans weren't what his people had thought them to be then they might start to interact with the Humans.

"Well, are you coming?"

Sarik nodded quickly and hurried to the door where Kaitlyn stood. When he stood next to her he found that she was actually slightly shorter than him, which surprised him. He had been told that all Humans were taller than the Clans, and stronger too, though not nearly as fast or agile.

Beckoning for Sarik to follow, Kaitlyn opened the door and walked out with her daughter and Sarik in tow. Glancing about Sarik saw many men in the small alleyways between houses unheeding of Sarik but nevertheless speaking in hushed and hurried tones. Frowning, Kaitlyn gave a small snort. Apparently she didn't think the men's behavior was normal.

"They're probably just a little taken aback at your appearance. They'll get over it."

Not waiting for any response, Kaitlyn hurried on through the streets of the town until she saw something that caught her eye. Sarik followed her eyes to see what she was looking at and saw a Human man, talking to a figure completely wrapped in dark leathers. Catching wind of the strange figure's scent, Sarik was immediately uneasy. To him, it smelled like one of the spirits, otherworldly beings his clan had had dealings with and were never to be trusted.

Kaitlyn didn't seem to notice Sarik's reaction and quickly hurried over to the Human male. "Well Kermit, good to see you. Who's this you've got here?"

 

[Shadowseldil]

(((It's daytime, Pressing, but it can be late afternoon, if that suits you better.)))

As Drue noticed two people approaching, he immediately reverted into his defensive stance. The female greeted the man, and asked about the stranger. The other, who, if he was a human, was unlike any of the others. Perhaps there were other beings they did not know about. Either way, he looked as hesitant as Drue himself. Drue, though, had the benefit of having his face covered.
Drue did not wait for an introduction. "I am Drue Kry'bhri. Who are you?" he repeated, and then, doubting himself a little, added, uncertainly, "What chawant?"

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

Not waiting for Kermit's response, Kaitlyn immediately turned to Drue. "Due, eh? Well Drue, it's good to meet you! We don't get many strangers around here, so I'm sure that's why most of the men are avoiding you." Waving to Sarik to come, he hesitantly approached until he was standing just slightly behind the shorter woman, still wary of the man in leather. "And this is Sarik. He's one of the forest people. Ran right into my door being chased by dog!" Sarik looked hesitantly at Drue, but gave a hesitant smile of greeting. Maybe he wasn't a good spirit. Sarik definitely hoped he was.

 

[Pressing_On]

Ambrose chuckled to himself as Kaitlyn boldly introduced the two strangers which every man in the village was too cowardly to approach. Leave it to a woman. Kaitlyn's young daughter Kairee clung to her mother's skirts, no more trustful of these strangers than the men of Qwelln. He covertly slipped the little girl a Cooei Nut, which she eagerly accepted and devoured. He then turned to Sarik. "Kermit Mueller." he introduced himself. "I thought the forest folk avoided human contact at all cost?"

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

((Double Post ))

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

Sarik blinked and then answered the man's question. "We do, for the most part. Although, it appears that your people are not at all like we were made to believe they were. You seem much kinder and far more intelligent than we believed you were."

 

[Marie87]

Lisa stood leaning against a tree not 4 feet away from the two people that were talking. She handn't been seen yet so she just decided to listen. Then she heard one of the men say something and said, "You might want to consider that thought." and just waited for a reply from the two men.

 

[Pressing_On]

Ambrose chuckled. "Well much obliged to ye little Faron. What was your name again? Sergi? But humans are a very varied lot. You'll find as many or more who are unkind and unintelligent and not. However, I'd best not destroy your newfound faith in humanity too soon, or we might not have equal chance to decipher the character of Farons."

 

[Kangaroo Hopscotch]

Sarik cringed slightly at the man's misuse of his name, but he politely replied, "It's pronounced Sarik, not Sergi. And as for your description of your kind, that seems very unfortunate, for it supports what the elders have taught me since I was a young cub. However, your own actions give me hope in your kind." Then, turning to face Drue, he hesitantly asked, "And as for you, you do not smell of human kind. You smell more like one of the spirits that one might find in our forests. What are you?"