Quest Loot Runners #4: A Quiet Place

[Raigryn Vayd]

The long lost elven city of Dar'dell. Several miles upriver from the eastern coast of the Allirian Reach

The small flotilla of vessels bobbed on the river, canvas still flapping in the wind.

"Welcome!" called Grandomelle, "To the city of Dar'dell. Lost for nearly a thousand years. Few alive have even set eyes upon it. Throughout the city you may find old treasures that I did not even leave myself. Perhaps even clues of elven culture that have long been lost."

One again a series of magical panes of glass floated in the air. Faces occasionally appeared in the glass as wealthy patrons watched the challenge from far away.

"Monsters have crept into the desolation and so have my servants carrying more treasures from my horde for those that prove themselves worthy. Let me explain..."

Treasure 1

Take a small rowing boat back across the lake to the lookout tower. Creep quietly because it has become inhabited by a swarm of Scythir. Man-sized insects with no sense of sight. If you make too much noise they can click their legs and detect you with a sonic pulse. At the top of the tower you will find:

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Treasure 2

Head for the keep. I'm afraid it is plague ghouls again. Do not get bitten by these foul beasts as their mouths are full of disease. Also, they can bite your hand off. In the old throne room you will find:

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Treasure 3

In the lower district of the town is a tribe of goblins who do not like outsiders. Which is a shame because I have hidden:

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Bonus prize

The theme for this Loot Run is taking the time to describe your surroundings and to build the atmosphere. My favourite gets the Legendary artefact:

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Info:

• Don't wait for DM posts. I won't be doing that. The introduction has outlined the challenges ahead and writers are expected to play them out. If anything I might throw a few new twists in along the way
• This is a quick write format. In your pairs you can posts back and forth as quickly as you want to try and reach loot
• To obtain items you can rush to them, wait to mug those who took them on the way out, or come up with new ways to find them. All I ask is that you give the challenges ahead of you some respect in your writing
• Teams of 1-3.
• Head you post with which island.
• Use PMs or discord to discuss the thread as much as you wish

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

When Willis told Caliane where their first mission was she had been shocked: The Fall of Dar'dell was a legend amongst elves. There were epic songs and poems written in honour of its tragic tale - one of their most prestigious and uniquely shared pieces of history. When she had asked if Willis had ever heard the story and he had admitted he had not, she felt it would fill the boat journey and ease her queasiness to share it with him.

Dar'dell was once a shining beacon of Elven culture. The greatest minds of our history resided here and together they created magics that are now lost to us. Some still survive - it is here that our healing and glamour spells originated. Amongst the Arviel, it is even thought that it was this great civilisation that gave us our wings to protect their skies. The most precious thing was their unique metal. They made everything out of it from their soaring towers to benches for their parks Aside from being strong, in the sun it was said that the metal turned a beautiful mix of purple, blue and green, depending on the angle it was examined from. But what made it valuable was its ability to contain any magic that was produced within its confines. It gave the elves their greatest advantage: a safe space to explore magic.

As well as their advanced magics and technology, they were also forward thinking in the way they governed. It was a realm of extreme wealth and peace. No beggars were seen within these walls and it was said that honey itself had once flown down the rivers they were now sailing down.

But their true prize was their royal family. They were beloved by all who met them, but it was the Princess above all who was cherished by the people. It was said her voice could sing people into eternal sleeps or make the stars themselves cry.

One day, the family invited all of the great dignitaries across Arethiil to a masked ball. There was dancing, the sweetest music you could have ever heard, wine so fine it would make you weep, and food so delicious it tempted even the Fae into lingering in this land. It was at this ball that it would be announced who the Princess was to be wed too. In order to decide who would win her hand, the King proposed a competition: anyone who could answer his riddle would win his daughters hand for it would not only prove that man had the intelligence to keep her daughters interest, but it would also show the cunning, tenacity, and forethought that was required in the future king of Dar'dell.

I begin eternity,
And end space,
At the end of time,
And in every place,
Last in life,
Second to death,
Never alone,
Found in your breath,
Contained by earth,
Water or flame,
My grandeur so awesome,
Wind dare not tame,
Not in your mind,
Am in your dreams,
Vacant to Kings,
Present to Queens.

Many tried to answer the riddle but none could work it out. The King graciously gave his hosts until the following morning to come to him with the answer. One man, however, had no intention of solving it to win the Princess's hand. The Shadow was a man from a distant land, it is said, and the moment he had set eyes on the Princess he had been consumed with lust. In the depths of the night as the rest of the castle slept, he stole the Princess from his home and took her back to his own lands.

The next morning when her maids came to wake her and found her missing, they ran to tell the king. He had them search the world for her, but there was no sign of his beloved daughter, for The Shadow was the night itself and he had taken her to his realm in the sky. The Princess wept and wept for her home, for she did not want to live in the sky and longed for her fathers arms. Enraged she would not give herself over to him, The Shadow slit the girls throat claiming that her beauty would always flow through his lands. That was the first night the aurora appeared.

The king knew instantly when he saw it that it was his daughters life blood and soul, now trapped in the realm of the sky for eternity. He flew into a grief stricken rage. Every man, woman and child who lived in the city died by his hand, for he could not bear to see a single smile from anyone whilst his daughters life blood taunted him forever in the skies. With his last ounce of power, he brought down the valley that surrounded the city and buried himself under the rock slide.

"And that it the sad tale of Dar'dell," Caliane finished. They had been bobbing in the river for a while now, but other vessels had joined them, some of their sailors had even leaned in to listen to parts of her tale. Caliane's voice was one that people could simply listen to for days, and its song bird nature fitted perfectly with the sad tale.

Any lingering emotions they might have had while digesting such a tale were soon forced from their minds as the voice spoke and she listened curiously. Willis has explained the concept to her the night before, but it was another thing to be a part of it. It was like an electric tension of excitement and adrenaline. Once the man had stepped back and it seemed the cue was for the groups to simply get on with it, the winged elf stood up and cast off her cloak for the first time with a large stretch, much like a lazy cat rising from a nap. One of the stipulations of coming on this mission with Willis was that he wouldn't make her hide her wings, which glimmered in the pale blue light reflecting from the waters. It was at vast odds with the red of her hair.

"So, what direction do you want to go in?"

Smiling One

 

[Smiling One]

While Willis rowed the boat to their location, Caliane Ruinë explained the history of the Elven ruins. Dar'dell was one of the major topics debated by scholars. He was surprised that Caliane knew of the story since her people have been isolated from society for thousands of years. Dar'dell was a place described as something out of a storybook. Cities that floated high in the sky, the entire society powered through magic. It was a time when the Elves were at the height of their power which was according to the Elves was before the Age of Urogosh.

The King's riddle was one of the most popular in history every educated noble was familiar with it which was why they were surprised when a street rat like Willis could recite the riddle and solve it. The Fall of Dar'dell was what was hotly debated by scholars the Elves claimed that they fell like what Caliane claimed though others mainly dark Evles say that the Human King: Saul the Dominator an infamous racist known for saying: "The only good Elf is a dead Elf!" raped and murdered the Princess and sacked the city using the first known anti-magic spells in history.

There was some second hand documentation detailing the fall due to King Saul's lust for Elven blood. However they were written by Elves who obviously aren't exactly reliable, for all scholars know King Saul's personality has been shrouded in mystery and contradictions. The only thing that people were certain was that he hated Elves, whether it was enough to start a pogrom on them was the mystery. Still Caliane was excited that she was going to explore the ruins but Willis sighed knowing what was to be expected.

"Be careful," Willis said tapping his finger on the hilt of his Cutlass. "This is Loot Runners where a mage is pitting us against one another for a chance at a rare item. This is going to be my third time here and not all of them was pleasant."

The young man then sighed. "I'd say we go for treasure 2," he shrugged "what can possibly go wrong I guess."

Willis loved to tempt fate, it relaxed him but of course that means more danger will come.

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

Treasure 1

Ghostly smokes puffed in the air, caught on an off wind and turning into a dank trail. 'Today, will be a good day for adventure.'​

He lazed in his row boat, a scroll had been expended, two ethereal hands rowed and steered the canoe, the soft gusting winds navigating on soft spoken currents. He took another long drag out of his 'wizard' pipe as he lovingly referred to it. He held it in for a few seconds, before releasing a long swirling trail of muddy greys to compliment the sky. He looked to the other boats. They all had friends with them for the most part. Farzad? Well, he was alone.

He gave a sunken smile, to any ship that passed, legs crossed atop one another as his right tapped up and down, his attention shortly thereafter grabbed as the panes of glass snapped into reality, people who looked half as well dressed as Farzad and only half as chipper emerged on the screen. He locked a few fingers onto his large wizard hat, grabbing the brim and dragging them along it, giving quick nods to each of the people in question before hearing the speech of Grandomelle.

Farzad phased in and out of the speech, more interested in the panes and faces. He'd never ran for the Loot before. But he had heard that only the wealthy and influential were on those screens. He started putting faces to memory. Before coming in to the finale of Grandomelle's speech.

"culture that have long been lost."​

There was a long pause. He took in a puff of his pipe and held it in there. It was one of those pauses. The sort of pause that could span the breadth of time itself and seemingly only just come short of the finish line. He released a great trail of smoke, figures formed and danced in the wind, seeking to outdo the skies shapes themselves Farzad knocked wood twice, raising up to look at the two hands, turning his head. He had three choices. So he flipped a coin.

It flew high into the air, he did not seek to catch it, simply letting it fold itself in the air a few dozen times before descending down, caught on the wind as it landed on his knee. He watched it spin, it turned, rolled, bounded and finally... Landed on it's side? Farzad, gave a detached smile.

The hand's instinctively turned the boat around, he was the first to head towards that tiny spire. He turned his head, dejected, that he couldn't visit the Elven Libraries, scan the city for lost treasure. Instead he caught a glimpse of what awaited.

Bug's that bound and buzzed along the tower. There were many, on a guess he counted at least fifty, though a hive often held scores more when you dug inside it's nest. He could barely make them out, tall, four limbed. He wasn't familiar with them, though had heard tales of what they could do. He took a long gulp.

"Wonderful."​

 

[Colette]

Treasure 2 - Soldiers of Fortune
with Donric Mannir, Edward Smitan, and Colette Maconner

Branches snarled in odd directions all across the cobbled gray stoneface of the Dar’dell Keep. Verdant vines filled in many of the mortar lines of the ancient building. It seemed as if nature itself had begun to take back what it was owed from a long forgotten past. Or, perhaps, this was just another example of elven architecture.

They were a peculiar species after all. Rather than celebrating their own achievements they preferred to incorporate Arethil’s creations into some crazed hodgepodge.

But the oddities of elves was difficult to focus on when Dar’dell itself sat in such an uncomfortable bog. The surrounding waters and the oppressive sun coalesced to create a terrible humidity. Moisture in the air as thick as a hearty stew caked a blob of Colette’s blonde hair to her forehead. Sweat seemed to flow out of every inch of her flesh as the heavy armor of the Anirian Guard cooked her core like a stone oven.

”This heat is unbearable, I say we head for the keep, it’ll be cooler indoors,” the guardsman expressed through a series of pants and gasps.

Colette didn’t wait for her companions as she began rowing towards the entrance of the keep. Vel Anir may have assigned the three members of the Anirian Guard to retrieve some strange elven loot but fainting from heat stroke was not a part of her plans for today.

Steady rowing created a whooshing sound as she willed the boat to carry the trio closer to the massive wooden door of the keep. She could tell even from this distance that it was a heavy door. Possible that it could even take two of the soldiers to open it up. Not to mention the elaborate carvings that jutted up and down the frame of the door. Various lines crisscrossing with unusual sigils that she assumed must’ve been some elvish language forgotten by history.

She’d need to find a way to convince Ned and Donric to lead, as this whole endeavor seemed dangerous. Maybe she could mention that it was best for her to bring up the rear. After all, arrows proved far more effective with added velocity.

”Once we’re ashore I can bring up the rear. My bow will prove more effective and you’re both better with a blade than me,” Colette was hoping that simple logic and flattery would aide her from being the one to come face-to-face with whatever foul creature surely awaited them inside.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane considered Treasure 2 and scrunched up her nose a little, "Because what we really need in this duo is more attention by glowing." The image wasn't a hard one to conjure up; she would look like a fucking firefly. Her wings were at least semi easy to cover up under a cloak, but she wasn't entirely sure how one would hide glowing skin. If Willis was worried about her attracting attention in her current form she was dubious the potion would really help the situation. Though - if he was the one planning on taking it perhaps it would divert attention away from her entirely. Now there was a thought.

As she waited to hear the reasoning behind picking that treasure, for she did not know the Monster Hunters as well as he did and she conceded there might be a genuine use for it, she ran her eyes over the others that appeared on the screen.

Despite this being something she had never done before and she was slightly apprehensive about the journey ahead, it felt good to be back in her Huntress gear. Especially in a place like this that was so central to the whole Elven races history. She was the first Avariel to set foot in here for countless centuries, maybe even more. She ran her fingers over a crumbled wall and enjoyed for a moment the weight of history that settled on her skin. Her mother would die to be in her place right now.

"How about a the sword?" Cali mused after a while. "Perhaps it's the sword in the Legend the King killed the city with - they did say it was made of a unique metal."

Smiling One

 

[Donric Mannir]

"Fancy pants elves, with their stupid little plants. Honestly, this is why we deserve to rule the Falwood, they just waste perfectly good wood and stone on looking pretty! No wonder this city's deserted, they probably grew hungry when all their crops were used to add colour to the buildings!" Donric grumbled, in fact he had never stopped grumbling this whole time. One minute he was getting steaming drunk in the pits of Vel'Anir and the next he was trotting along on a smelly horse heading for some whacky adventure.

This most certainly was above his pay grade. Payroll would have another thing coming if he didn't get extra leave or some overtime for this excursion.

"And ANOTHER thing, you're telling me in a city full of Dreadlords they can't even spar-" He paused his rant mid-sentence, giving someone else a chance to fill the eerie silence with their voice for a change. "Alright yeah, that sounds like a good idea." He mumbled, unlike him, Colette actually had something useful to contribute to the party.

Enjoying the silence that ensued for a few moments, a rarity in his life, he began to examine the scenery in a new light. Literally.

Mirrors, clear as the day they were made, were dotted around the ruins. At first, he dismissed this as vanity trip, but he saw now its true purpose. They split, diverted and carried every single drop of sunlight across the abandoned city, leaving nowhere devoid of illumination. Smart really, he'd give them that at least.

The little rowboat bucked and turned, Donric found himself clutching to the sides for dear life. By the gods, this girl was frightening with an oar. Several occasions he'd considered jumping ship entirely, risking the murky waters that stretched endlessly below. Thankfully, a vague reflection in said waters served well to remind him that heavy armour and water generally didn't mix. He sighed, he'd have to make do.

"You're only worse with a blade because you never use yours!" He replied immediately.

As the boat meandered to a standstill, sidling up to a small stretch of land before the ancient oaken doorway. Donric found himself leaping out at the earliest opportunity, eager to have both feet firmly placed on dry land. A stray thought chose that moment to wander into his head, reminding him that he'd have to risk a second return voyage with the little demon girl. If they survived that was... Either way, he shuddered at the prospect.

"Poxy elves and their fancy moonrunes, can't even just make a simple door, have to be better than us." He groaned, unsurprisingly taking offence to the masterpiece that barred the entrance. As he drew closer, hoping to glean some semblance as to what the sigils and runes meant, he was stricken with strong whiffs of... unpleasantness.

His mind was awhirl, trying to remember where he'd smelt such a thing before, then it hit him. Years ago they'd been forced to fish out a corpulent body, bloated from the river water so that they could treat the source. It had exploded the minute they snagged it. The putrified innards had sprayed out forming a thin coating across the water and the gas that eeked out from the corpse had clung to him for weeks afterwards.

Yeah, it smelled like that. Suffice to say, he vomited where he stood. This day just got worse and worse.

 

[Smiling One]

Well seesssh the potion wouldn't be just for Caliane Ruinë its unique properties could be useful for Monster Hunting. Willis could also sell it to the College of Elbion so they can try to replicate the potion. Anti-magic is a notoriously hard technique to master. Templars mastered the art of Anti-magic however they were known to be abrasive to those who aren't part of their order. Considering they're knights, Willis wasn't surprised about pompous attitudes.

"Always thinking about yourself Caliane," Willis said ruffling her long red hair. He was fully aware of the irony behind that statement. Willis always thought about himself almost everything he did was out of self-interest. In a world where a person gets pissed on for being a different race or class it's better to look out for one's self and gain as much coin as you can. The Nobles do it all the time and they have the gall to encourage people to be selfless and courteous to each other.

It was utter bullshit that what it was flowery words to keep the people pacified while nobles take from them and enjoy their lap of luxury. Which was probably why the nobility hates mercenaries and Monster Hunters, they're a mockery of them. "Just because you glow like a firefly don't mean shit," he said. "It's a side effect of the potion. The real power behind is its anti magic capabilities."

The young man continued to stare at Caliaine "do you realize how rare anti magic potions are?" he asked. "They're extremely hard to make, which is why anti magic bombs are so fucking expensive. They require specific ingredients and handling."

Willis then continued to stare at the Winged Elf sighing. "But I did promise to protect you," he said. "Like you told me before you're still recovering from your wounds and you're just beginning to fly. The last thing we need is you to become a target. I suppose we can go after the sword, I've always wanted to get my hands on a magical sword anyway."

Turning on his heel, Willis smirked at Caliane. "Shall we go?" he asked.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
_______________________________

"Hey!" the red head scorned and batted his hands away as he fluffed up her hair. The intense feeling of being in a place of great reverence shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and she shot him a glare. It didn't have much sting in it though; the winged elf was too easy to read in her emotions and she was growing to really care for Willis. If she had truly been angry then her eyes would have begun to contain a subtle ring of fire, but all there was was mirth in the depths of the emerald hues.

Caliane rested her weight on one foot with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for Willis to finish talking to her like a small child. Part of her contemplated leaving him here and making for the tower across the lake on her own, but she wasn't suicidal. It was true she was still recovering from her injuries sustained in months of captivity. She was also, actually, a decent Hunter if Willis stopped remembering her as the broken woman he had saved and took a moment to see who she actually was. Instead she settled on sticking her tongue out at him whilst his back was turned.

"Of course, but if I may all seeing, all knowing, wise Willis? We need to go that way."

***
​

After a terse silence and a few more quick quips about Caliane just flying them over there if she was so great, they were back in the boat as if nothing had happened. This was what she had really missed in the months alone: comradeship and banter. She knew no matter what Willis said that he cared for her, and she hoped he knew the same in return. Now they were on their way however, a peace seemed to settle over the pair as they focused their minds on the job. The closer they got to the tower the more eerie the silence got.

Caliane couldn't help but think over the legendary story as they rowed closer. Were the bodies of the men, loyal soldiers to the king, still stood to attention in there? Slumped against walls, propped up by now rusting weapons? In the shadow of the spire all heat from the sun disappeared and she shuddered.

There was only one other boat bobbing at the base of the tower and they brought their boat to a quiet stop beside it - everyone was watching the bugs that were crawling, flying, swarming every inch of their destination. The click click clack of their warped legs and the hum of their wings was the starting playlist to their adventure.

"See, this is why you don't just fly at danger," Cali murmured.

Smiling One Farzad Oldsummer

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

TREASURE 3: LOWER DISTRICT​

Majister received a tip about this wizard Grangomelle and his games. About the loot that was on offer in said games. How marvelous! Oh but wasn't it a shame, what happened to the good man who'd shared the tip with Majister? See you there, he had said. All in the spirit of fair competition, he had said.

Why, it was simply a tragedy that he ended up on the losing side of a "spontaneous" tavern brawl with both arms broken. Simply a tragedy. Hillby and Padre seemed to have far too much fun pulverizing him. Majister ought to commend them for their vigor!

Well, in a sense he had, for they were off enjoying a spot of leisure while Majister embarked on this little venture. Everyone in his raider band was...except Darla and Krull, who had drawn the short straws. Oh, but never to fear! Certainly there would be loot enough for them as well! Mayhap they'll return to their comrades richer than when they had left! Ah, there was no sweeter smell than envy, was there? And how envious Hillby and Padre and the rest would be if Darla and Krull returned adorned in such riches.

That was how he sold it to them, and that was how they bought it. Delicious.

Upon the raft, Majister and Darla and Krull listened to Grangomelle's speech. And Majister's eyes drifted to the panes of glass floating in the air around them and the other adventurers and their rafts. Those faces appearing. How peculiar it would be if the faces of the Mejeures were among them. Surely they thought him and his cousin Clarissa ghastly rubes, lowly rogues, repugnant accidents that should never have been graced with the Mejeure name. Ah...but would it not complete the circle to one day steal from the pompous family he had abandoned?

The wizard spoke of the treasure then. The best part.

"What are you thinking?" Krull said to him, crossing his arms. His chainmail shirt seemed to barely contain his thick orcish arms. His expression was serene, his half-smile suggesting he was ready for anything.

"Oh!" said Darla. "What about that Golden Aura Potion? Think about it, Majister--"

Majister interrupted with a smirk. "I certainly have, my dear, and I can tell you here and now that anyone who does not go for the Bammaram is a fool!" Darla made that oh-so-endearing pouting face of hers, and he continued, "A bold claim, I know, but Krull, my good man, Darla, my fine lady, hear me out! Of what use is that first treasure, this crystalline 'katana,' hmm? Who here has not heard of a whetstone and a little gusto? Yes, indeed, such is a weapon that inspires laziness more than anything else, hah hah!"

Majister spun his rapier around in a quick flourish. Said, "And that Golden Aura Potion. Hah! I pray that you have prescience or at the very least quick fingers, Darla, for its applicability withers in direct proportion to the surprise or speed at the command of our hypothetical wizarding foe! Now, now, I am no stranger to gambling, but such is all the more reason that I am keen to spot a raw bet, and I'm here to tell you that that potion would in practice only enable one to--as the saying goes--win more. Why, I'd trade that potion for proper planning and execution every time, huh hah!"

Darla mumbled, mostly to herself, "I thought it was a good item..."

Majister flashed his rapier forward and pointed toward the solid ground of the elven city, Dar'dell. Their loss, his gain. "Onward! To the real treasure at stake! With it we shall quite literally open more doors than we would have otherwise!"

They arrived at the shore below the lower district, and stepped off the raft. An immense construction, the whole of the lost city, standing true even against the ravages of time and the encroachment of nature. Even the wooden stairs before them remained works of art, as if the lost elves had elevated the wood itself beyond the scope of Arethil and crafted it into the architecture of the divine. Even through the erosion of years, the grand wooden staircase appeared as smooth as marble, etched with designs from the base to the landing above that told a story which spanned the gulf of time between the artisan's hands then and Majister's eyes now.

My. He was not one for sentimentality or moments of breathtaking awe, but...there were allowances he made on occasion.

And, well, perhaps the goblins who lurked in the lower district would banish such appreciation from his mind. But he and his two raiders were well prepared. Chainmail shirts and pants over gambesons each. Footman helms (acquired from a timely raid three weeks ago). Healing potions for each of them; the good stuff at that, for these were powerful and had some minor antidote qualities as well. Majister was armed with his rapier, Darla with her daggers, Krull with his axe and shield.

They would meet the challenge. Oh yes. And this triumph would be simply gorgeous!


(((OOC: Feel free to join up with Majister at the base of the stairs if you want!)))

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Treasure 3

Toruuk traipsed beneath the verdant archways of the outskirts of this forgotten city. Colorful song birds, flitted about above his head, chirping and chittering a pleasant travelling tune. Small mammals that the bull thought resembled monkeys scurried about, gazing curiously at him and his travelling partner as they pushed through flowering vines. Sunlight peaked through the foliage and into the dust and pollen that filled the warm, humid air.

The Wandering Champion casually chopped his way through the natural barriers that had overtaken the path. He had heard from his recently acquired pal Emery that some eccentric wizard regularly held these challenges and, being the bold and gallant adventurer that he was, Toruuk was enthralled by the idea of it. Thus the duo had made their way here, his roguish companion having found a map of a cave that they had decided would be a clever route into their chosen destination within the ruined metropolis. The bull let out a content, heavy sigh, the mix of heavy drops of condensation falling from the canopy above and sunbeams from their right hand side making for a very comfortable sauna-like sensation for his fur.

The item that had been displayed for this section of the city had immediately caught Toruuk's eye. A battering ram blowgun? The very idea made Toruuk give pause to why he even carried the small ballista he had strapped to his muscular back. Emery, too, had seemed eager to acquire the novelty. Perhaps to aid him in breaking into places he shouldn't be, the bull mused.

"How's it goin' back there, little buddy? We still on the right track, here?"
Toruuk inquired as he trudged onward. The damp, moss covered, stone path they walked had seen better days and he imagined the footing was fairly unsure for someone without hooves and roughly half a ton of muscle to keep himself steady. He found it odd that they hadn't run into any competitors yet, nor the aforementioned feral goblins that apparently inhabited this portion of the area. Then again, they had opted to take the road less traveled. A shame, really. There was no glory in snagging this trophy without a bit of conflict to make it feel earned.

The champion became more curious what this mysterious map held in store for them as he breached a particularly dense cluster of vines: a crossroads awaited ahead, and what appeared to be entrances into ancient buildings or walls. Each option seemed to be equally overgrown and...was that a fountain he could see ahead? It seemed odd that such a thing would still be running in this supposedly abandoned place, but then again, elves were quite apt when it came to craftsmanship.

 

[Emery Thatcher]

LOWER DISTRICT (3)

Emery looked at his procured map valiantly pretending he could read the damn thing. There were some symbols that looked familiar to him but as for the roads itself he couldn't make heads or tails out of any of it. He grunted in frustration and walked passed Toruuk Stoneheart, slapping the map to his chest.

"Ere'. Ya gonna have better luck witit' than I am. Looks like we're still good, though."

The thief sighed and shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling a roll of tobacco from it and lighting it with a match. The gray smoke puffed from behind his teeth showed a brighter hue than the cobblestone their feet padded across. The dampness from the moss giving a wet slosh to their footsteps as they made their way through the lower district of this damnable lost city.

Emery only had one interest in this; side treasure. He didn't care for any blow gun that fired a goat, or whatever. But the ruins and the goblins led him to believe something valuable lay undiscovered on this venture. Something not mentioned by the proprietor of these games.

The sun lay a golden blanket over the moss rocks displaying small fungi from a protruding stone. The thief kept hobbling beside the minotaur with his makeshift cigarette dangling from his lip.

"Aight." He muttered. He moved to a nearby rectangular wall and scaled it with ease, standing on it one legged. He made a visor for his eyes with his hands as he peered to what lay ahead.

"Clear fer' now. Them goblins could be hidin' anywhere."

 

[Smiling One]

Treasure One

Caliane Ruinë was always annoyed whenever Willis ruffled her long soft red hair. It annoyed her so it just encouraged Willis to do it again. She secretly enjoyed it though based on the twinkle in her emerald eyes whenever Willis did it. The Winged Elf and Willis were growing closer by the day and she didn't mind whenever he touched her. It was a sign of trust amongst the two weeks ago Caliane would probably incinerated him for even thinking of touching her.

Willis shook his head while Caliane stuck his tongue at him. "Well I'm glad you're recognizing my greatness," he said to the woman smirking. "Not many are able recognize my omniscience if only those people listened, they would've survived."

As they got closer to the first path, an insect horde began to descend upon them forcing Willis to row back. "Well!" Willis said trying to evade them. "It'll be a good time for you to fly! Pick me up! I got an idea!"

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

The ethereal hands faded from existence with a cool wind, their last great row came as the paddles touched the golden sand, the last wave propelling his boat forward with a soft 'creshw' his body still lounged around like some uncomfortable bazaar, he peeled his hat a little upwards to look at the tower.

"Gr... Green?"

​

He mused aloud, looking at the spindly tower that seemed to shift with strange motion. He snapped his fingers, a wide smile birthed. He slowly picked himself up, an almost ethereal straight ninety degree rise, his feet interlocked beneath one of the wooden planks as he rose like some cheap zombie, taking his first step from his grave and into life sand upturned beneath the splash of his boots. He took in his first breath. The clear crisp air, the grand smell of the water. He took it all in, no doubt once they got closer to that hive of chitinous mess. He stretched, bent down, longs elongated in a straight L as he bent left, than right, than left, than right. He looked as the other two got closer to the beach his large backpack and quarterstaff still sat in his boat, "Fantastic day for adventure, wouldn't you say?" It was a mistake. The duo had seemingly somehow disturbed the veritable hornet's nest, Farzad had to act quickly, his body became put on autopilot.

He quickly moved to his boat, the sound, the buzz and caw of it all, he upturned the vessel, his backpack and quarterstaff flipping with it as he was forced to cower for shelter. He caught one look at them before he got under, "Three minutes." That was all the time he figured he had, he grabbed a small length of orange fabric, "Bel Faun Bicote" he whispered the soft and faint limelight of colour illuminated the inside, the wooden grain was made clear as he flipped through a few pages of his book, skimming through page after page before finding one of them. "This will have to do." He tore out the page quickly, shifting the small canoe up a little, he watched as a crab scuttled along the sand, Farzad quickly swiped it across as he grabbed the spell scroll, tugging and pulling at the thread as it unfurled, words unfurled in bright red as he took a few moments, the arcane scribblets came to life, growing larger, more bold. His lips peeled open, he took in a shallow breath as arcane light grew to a crescendo of colour.


"La Jurade Delidore" His words were an explosion of noise bombastic in colour and makeup, and a costly risk. He didn't have much other choice, the chitinous mass descended on his canoe with the terror and mass of blind wasps, their legs darting and cracking into the canoe with vile aggression, it was a mistake. He should have prepared another spell scroll, but the mass of movement was too overwhelming, he grabbed his quarterstaff, bashing and whiplashing their bodies as best he could, a few of their legs barred down into his fabric, cutting deep along his skin before finally, it happened.

It wasn't far off, but it was loud. Louder than what noise he had made, it came with an echoing 'Karooom' A giant display of red grew high and tall at the rocky cliff face that towered at the side of the beech, long cracks drew and quartered through it's rocky hide, pieces falling into the cusping waves and creating more noise, teh splash the crash, the horde was taken aback for a few moments, a large horde of seething colour flew off towards it, but at least six others stayed at the naoe, Farzad was left in a tricky spot, but at least had far more breathing room than before as he cracked the backend of his wooden spear into the side of one of their faces, knocking it over as another two bared down.

Smiling One /\ Caliane Ruinë ​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Treasure 3

"Ere'. Ya gonna have better luck witit' than I am. Looks like we're still good, though."

Toruuk pinched the tiny map between his thumbs and index fingers and tried to pull it straight. Given that it was difficult for him to make any sense of it to begin with and that it was now a soggy mess from being exposed to the environment, the thing was basically worthless now. The ink had ran so badly that a cartographer wouldn't have been able to decipher it at this point. The bull snorted and rolled the once-map into a crumpled, squishy ball and flicked it into the river on the right side of the path, just beyond the canopy cover.

"Eh, whatever, we don't need that thing. My wanderin' spirit always takes me where I wanna go!"
Toruuk boasted. They were in the right area, that was what mattered. The scent of cigarette smoke wafted up into the champion's snout as Emery moved past him and up the wall.
"Ya know, I don't know what's more impressive: that you climb so well with that habit o' yours, or that yo can get that cig to stay lit in all this wet."

Toruuk trod out from under the vine covered tunnel and into the clearing that made up the crossroads. Heavy hoofsteps made for soggy, squelching *clops* on the wet stone. He sauntered up to the dilapidated fountain to examine it closer. It was, in fact, still running of its own volition. It looked to be a series of rough, geometric stone columns forming the spout, the water cascading down from the tallest one onto the shorter ones and finally into the pool at the base. A surprisingly simple design for elvish architecture, yet still elegant. Nature had partially claimed this structure too, the bull noted. Lily pads were growing in the pool and moss had started to form on parts of the columns...a couple of vibrant frogs had even made their home here.

"Clear fer' now. Them goblins could be hidin' anywhere."

The bull looked up from the fountain and examined the nearby buildings. The one immediately north astride the river was entirely ruined; rubble had collapsed into its only apparent entry point and it didn't have any notable windows, so that was likely a bust. That left an entry way to the west which led into what seemed to be a wall -- perhaps a garrison of some sort? And a tall structure to the northwest which had a large, open archway at its front. Both seemed promising, but the fact that the archway was bereft of vines struck Toruuk as odd.

"Well we oughta find 'em. You heard the man in charge, where there's gobbos, there's treasure. Plus I'm gettin' bored with sightseein'." He turned about and gazed up at Emery, who still sat atop the nearby retaining wall, and pointed at the two entrances with an axe.
"Whadya think, hole in the wall or spooky tower?"

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
_________________________

Those bugs could fly.

Caliane had been using their approach to look for a possible entrance that contained the least of the creatures, which was probably the reason she had spotted the wizard on the beach before Willis. Either way, his shout of a warning seemed to snap the Wizard's head up as well as Cali's. The creatures were hurtling for the boat at a ferocious speed, far quicker than she would have thought possible considering their bodies were the size of man but the wings were translucent and insect like. They blocked out the last of the light as they swarmed, and for a moment all Cali could picture was an angry black scribble the sort a child drew when you first gave them a pencil. They bunched together and then dived in formation. So not mindless beasts.

Great.

They hit the boat a second after the Monster Hunters had left. The force of her wings downward push that sent the two in the air capsized the small boat entirely. A few of the creatures who had been closest to it got caught in its sudden overturn and went gurgling into the inky water. The buzzing grew louder as the creatures realised their prey had not only evaded them but could fly too. It was an angry sound, the kind that you could feel as well as hear. She was not gentle about her speed as she had been the previous time she had taken Willis for a glide over the sunny cove back in Alliria.

They zipped past the tower, which now looked mainly deserted as more creatures peeled off to join in chasing this exciting form of prey, and Cali went straight for the rocky wall of the cave they were in. It looked as if the two were just going to hit the rock at speed themselves but, at the last second, the elf turned on a dime and went trailing down the side of the cliff face. Another few insects screamed as they crashed into the rock and crumpled. The weight of their dead bodies fell faster than Cali's controlled descent and the pair watched them fall into the lake.

"There's too many, I gotta put you down," a grim face. She would have more chance distracting them and out flying them on her own. As they took another shot past the tower, Cali angled her wings to go past a deserted balcony. Hopefully Willis could see what she was intending to do, or he was going to moan at her later for dropping him. She tried to get as low as she could and simply let go of him about 4ft from the air onto the slab of rock, and then she was gone. The insects swarmed after her inches from Willis' perch as she took them back towards the cave wall. With so many in the air they created their own gust of wind. At least, it meant Willis would have time to put into action whatever plan he had now without the nausea of flying at a speed not designed for humans.

What followed next was a test of flight, speed and agility. The creatures knew the layout of this place better than she did, but they were underestimating her ability to fit through the smaller gaps. It must have been a spectacle to watch - a blur of red and white feathers and a swarm of insects which billowed out and then honed in as they communicated with one another in their odd series of clicks and clacks. They danced over every inch of the towers walls, through crumbled archways, barren courtyards and right up to the roof of the cavern ceiling.

It was on her third loop of flight that the blinding light from the wizards spell suddenly erupted.

Unfortunately Caliane was not far in front of the insects and found herself caught in the middle of the sudden rock slide. Swearing a stream of choice curse words her mind switched from avoiding the bugs, to not getting her wings hit by the debris. Some of the insects, intent on following her through the storm of earth, screeched as they were hit and went down into the now turbulent waters below. Showers of dust and dirt had also been dislodged and covered the whites of her feathers, her hair, and her skin in grime. It was in her nose, throat and eyes. It blurred her vision and chocked her. Seeing an opening in the fall of earth, she turned back towards the beach. Her wings screamed at her for such a pinpoint turn, but even that manoeuvre wasn't quick enough. One jagged rock hit her on the arch of the wing. Pain exploded down the tendrils of muscle and nerves, her flight jerked, but she managed to stay airborne. She could probably get back to the balcony she had left Willis on, for now all the creatures who had poured outside were heading for the light.

Aside from two pummelling the canoe on the beach.

"Not done this in a while," Cali murmured, easing her bow from the case strapped to her leg and an arrow from the quiver on the other side. Adjusting her flight course so she could use the current in the wind to glide, allowing her to focus on the monsters instead, she loosed one arrow, then another. They were not perfect shots by any means but they got the job done. One went through the throat of the first creature, who dropped gurgling to the floor, and the other pierced the lung of the second creature sending him spinning to the base of the tower, clutching at the arrow protruding from his chest.

Cali was taking a step before she even landed so that when her feet did sink into the sand she was able to keep moving. Her breathing was laboured, she was covered in dirt which she was wiping from her face, and blood oozed down the nasty gash in her wing. If she stopped she knew this adrenaline would wear off and they would both be grounded, no it was better to keep moving and get back to the balcony she had left Willis on. The winged elf probably looked like something out of a horror movie as she flipped the canoe off of the man. "Sorry Mr, not got much time," not giving him a chance to answer as she plucked him, backpack, staff and all, from the ground bridal style, and glanced up towards the dwindling light that was still keeping the majority of creatures occupied. "I believe you said something about an adventure? Tell me, have you ever flown before?" Throwing him a smile bracketed by the white grooves of pain she shot back into the sky, though nowhere near with the force she had with Willis.

The flight to the rocky outcrop she had left her friend was blissfully devoid of life, aside from Willis, but it was littered with several bodies of the insects who must have peeled off to attack Willis when he had been dropped. She stumbled as they landed, letting the man go probably a little rougher than she would have normally, and braced her hand against the wall. Her injured wing was drooping noticeably now.

"You ok?" Cali's eyes quickly roamed over Willis' form to assess for any damage.

***

Smiling One Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

TREASURE 3: LOWER DISTRICT

Spoiler

The staircase leading up from the shore to the Lower District built into the rocky cliff face was enormous. Spears of sunlight lancing through the weathered and broken mountain, looming titanic and indomitable to their right and far in the distance, lit their ascent. To their left the smallest of Dar'dell's impressive towers rising to meet them as they journeyed up the staircase--these towers with their peculiar roofs. What were those called? There was a name for them...a word the Trade tongue had adopted...pagodas, yes, that was it.

Majister and his raiders passed by twin man-sized torch sconces, flanking either side of the staircase's railing. And further up the stairs were much larger sconces, fashioned of stone and standing as their own structures, mighty obelisks attesting to the skill of their long dead elven craftsmen. Neither set of these sconces looked to have been lighted in decades. Centuries.

As they passed the first set of sconces, Krull said, "Majister."

"Have you spotted something of note, my good man?"

"Didn't the wizard say goblins occupied the Lower District?"

Majister glanced back. Krull was looking over the side of the staircase's railing, down at something Majister himself could not see. "Why, do tell what you've spotted there! Surely you must know that the suspense is simply killing me!"

"A minotaur."

Darla flinched. Eyes darting around as if minotaurs might suddenly scale the staircase from the sides and box them in. "A minotaur?"

"A minotaur," Krull said again, as unperturbed as the first time.

"Well what is it doing?" Majister said in his uniquely unflappable way. "Perhaps we've only just stumbled upon a wonderful opportunity! As the saying about bulls in pottery shops goes, mayhap we could be witness to a bull in a goblin shop! Magnificent, wouldn't you say?"

"He's, uh..." Krull paused. "Trying to read a map."

Majister let out a laugh. "If surprise had a color, I'd be simply drenched in it!"

"How can surprise have a color?" Darla said in the low and slow way of a woman confused.

"Same as envy, my dear, and I'm here to tell you that positively glow with green whensoever a particularly buxom lady passes by you!"

Indignation was Darla. "I do not!"

"Yeah," said Krull. "You do."

"Krull!" He might as well have slapped her, given the look on her face.

"Now, now, Darla," Majister said with a wave of his hand. "We can attend to your woes another time. Krull, my good man, anything else about the minotaur?"

"Hmm. There's a...seems there's young human man with him," (Darla: "Is he handsome?") "and...they appear to be working together. After the Bammaram, you think?"

"Curious," Majister said, sparing a moment to rub his chin. "Curious...but anyway! Onward!"

They continued up the staircase, finally reaching the massive complex at the top. The staircase landing gave way to a grand hall, perhaps once intended to astonish newcomers to the city. Marble floors slick with accumulated rainwater from the holes above, twin rows of cracked and crumbling pillars with arches supporting the high ceiling, and the walls adorned entirely with a chipped and faded mural painting, displaying, perhaps, the vast mythology of how the elves or how the city in particular had come to be.

But this receiving hall had not only lost its splendor to the ravages of time, but through the degradations of its current, uncivilized occupants. Hide tents, some freestanding and some formed by stretching hide canvasses from the pillars to the walls, dotted the hall haphazardly. Bits of bone and the black, rotting matter of old animal corpses littered the once pristine marble floors. Piles of junk and refuse (though perhaps the goblins did not think this of said piles) were strewn about with a malicious disregard for the concept of orderliness. Black ash and soot on the floor and on the pillars and across the mural smeared the beauty that once had been.

And, as Majister and Krull and Darla stepped inside this grand hall, their footsteps caused a stir.

Goblin heads poked out from inside tents, behind pillars, around corners. Murmurs in their guttural language followed.

Then a near gleeful cry, both a call-to-arms and a shout of battle, from somewhere unseen in the hall. The goblins, some dozen or perhaps two dozen of them, snatched up their crude weapons and with frenzied faces charged the three standing in the portal connecting the grand hall to the outside staircase.

"My good man. My fine lady," Majister said as he extended his sword arm into a duelist's stance. He smirked. "Enjoy yourselves."

Toruuk Stoneheart Emery Thatcher

 

[Smiling One]

Treasure One

Willis hated bugs.

Of course he had to take the path with these annoying bastards. Willis never liked Bugs since he was a child. Living near the docks attracted insects of all kinds and they often stuck to Willis' skin wanting to suck his blood or poison him. Bugs were small, numerous and they were everywhere. Whenever Willis would try to go out he'll greeted by a swarm of bugs. To Willis the only thing a Bug exists for is to be squashed. Of course Kikwi had a fascination with those things. He had to drag the damn Owl in the last Loot Runner because he was too busy gawking at a Butterfly Worm.

There were Insects in the Monster Hunter Book also known as Insectoids. Overgrown Insects who often live in abandoned areas or underground. Willis would take special pleasure in taking on contracts that involved insectoids. Willis remembered hunting a pair of Grecks who were killing a farmer's animals.

Tracking the Grecks wasn't particularly hard, they were insectoids who love digging and aren't particularly subtle. There were huge holes in the farmers place which allowed Willis to go in search for the Grecks. After about 5 hours of searching, Willis found the insectoids gnawing on the rotting corpse of a cow. A fight ensued in which one of the Greck's tried to lunge at Willis with its razor sharp pincers. The young man kept his distance and attempted to penetrate the gaps of its natural armor with his Cutlass. A few whacks later, Willis managed to stab at the Greck's exposed neck area killing it instantly. The last Greck attempted to escape but was doused with a fire bomb by Willis.

The Farmer grumbled about his fields being destroyed but nonetheless gave Willis pay.

Willis felt himself being lifted high up by Caliane. Thinking quickly, the young man got out his mini-crossbow that Caliane made for him as her way of showing gratitude for rescuing her. Even though Willis told her it was no big deal, Caliane insisted and gifted Willis the mini-crossbow. It was made out of yew oak and was equipped with regular crossbow bolts. Willis noted that the bolts were as big as the mini crossbow itself and Caliane claimed it was just as powerful as a regular Crossbow.

"Let me aim!" Willis shouted at the Winged Elf firing a shot at the insect. The Bolt penetrated between it's big black eyes. White blood began to seep from the inscetoid's skull as it went careening to the waters below.

"I love this weapon Cali!" Willis smiled at Caliane readying another shot. One Insect when after for Caliane's right flank but the young man fired at its direction. The Bolt ripped through the Insect's wings and pierced the neck of an unsuspecting Inscetoid behind it. Both creatures fell into the waters as Caliane attempted fly away only to be struck by a rock and was sent down.

"SHIT!" Willis landed face first onto the balcony some of the soot went straight into his bloodied mouth. The taste of soot wasn't so bad actually the Inscents swarmed around them. Still on the ground, Willis loaded another bolt and fired at the swarm, the bolt shot one of the Inscets legs and it retreated quickly.

"I'm fine!" Willis growled at Caliane "Fucking buggers are everywhere! I fucking wished I've read up on these bastards at Wvyern's Nest!"

 

[Emery Thatcher]

LOWER DISTRICT (3)

"Eh?" From atop the wall Emery stood he could have sworn he'd heard Mathis Majister Mejeure's words on the wind. He brushed it off as nothing as he couldn't actually make anything out and kept his focus on what lay ahead. He flicked his cigarette into a nearby pool of water that lay near some moss. The ash let out a wispy hiss as the fire and water connected in their time-honored dynamic.

The thief stretched his arms to the sky and let out a soft chuckle at Toruuk's sentiment. A breathy sigh to follow.

"Ya get used to it." He said with a shit eating grin.

Toruuk made some good points about their current predicament. Dealing with goblins was a necessity, no matter how awful it may be. They were ruthless creatures. At least ratfolk showed respect from time to time, goblins seemed to destroy whatever they came in contact with. At the mention of where to go, Emery rubbed the back of his head.

"Y'know, I think I'm good on spooky towahs' fer' now."

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

A penetrating leg came down with violent force, it hit Farzad square on his staff's but end, a seamless crack forming on the wood as he struggled like a child, incapable to do much. He was backed against the ground, wasting all his energy simply blocking the legs before a sharp crack formed, blood at first spittled, the creature stumbling back as light filled the crevice, he never thought he'd see the skies again. "Now out of t-" Than came the crack, a second arrow pierced the lungs of a second, "Oh. Well no I am out of the wood works now fantastic." He mused with a smile as it didn't take long before his whole canoe was capsized off him, he lounged out, hands cupped around his quarterstaff pressed close against his chest, a long straight along his lips as he was saved by a literal, guardian angel. Sure a little worse for wear, blood and the whatnot, the damaged wings. But he wasn't one to judge.

Rule *5; Don't spit at the help
​

He was about to chime in before the angle picked him up, Farzad swiped at his shoulder getting a bit of sand off before he fully realized what was happening. He gave a smile. A wide smile. The sort of smile that could stretch from one face to another with infectious glee, his pupils expanded like dinner plates, he was gobsmacked struggling to breath as his muscles grappled with so much expression. "This is the greatest yes ohmylord I cannot believe eeeeeeeeeeeeeee" His hands shook, closed fists pressed close against each other, keeping the staff from hitting the angel. There are children in this world that would never be able to experience the absolute joy of getting to do this very thing.

He didn't say much, the excitement was too much, he simply took it all in, turning his head to look at the tower and survey the land. He figured he wasn't ever going to forget a single detail of this endeavour. Saved by a literal angel. I cannot wait to write this in the diary. He mused as he watched it, his excitement didn't wain. But that sight was not something he liked.

The tower was claimed. It was clear, the chittenous and ravenous horde made it look like some living spire more than it did of elven claywork and stone, it was green by their doing, they had lavished and added to the tower. They were like shabby architects, you could make out the base of the keep, long and straight, unphased and unmoved if only added and surrounded by their own disgusting handwork. But there were two jutting points unnatural, curved like large pussy tumors that he swear were pulsing with life. Than he navigated his eyes more, the sandy shore came out to a rocky clearing, small bushels of grass tumbled at odd points where they could, leading to a thicker forage of vegetation. There were no paths through the forest to the tower. It made sense, the creatures had made claim to this haven a while back, a footpath was unnecessary to the insectoid buzzards. He stapled it to memory before everything seemed to crash.

They flew a little further inland, Farzad's body dropped harshly, everything felt in slow motion. He swore he read this exact seen, flew so high to the sky, only to be dropped to his death. It was a cold sobering reality, he closed his eyes, and embraced death. It was a lot quicker than he imagined. "In the arms, of an angel, fly awaayyy" The words came naturally and he felt his body stop, he popped open an eye, looking back and fourth. He was on the ground, "Well, that was quicker than I th-" He snapped a finger looking at the duo, bouncing up and crossing his legs, he took off his spired hat, wiping off it any blood that hadn't stained it as his locks unfurled, a deep hair of midnight blue a tangled mess uncombed and unruly "Ah that explains it. Weren't dropping me to my death." His face filled with joy at the realization of another day to live, head bobbing as he peeled off a small chunk of bug, "Fun." He quipped rather jubilantly, body unable to stop a little shimmy as he whistled softly. This seemed like a them two moment.

Smiling One /\ Caliane Ruinë​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

"A minotaur."

Toruuk sneezed quite suddenly, sending a fine mist of snot and condensation blossoming through the air. The bull wiped his nose then stretched his arms. All that cutting through foliage must've kicked something funky into the air.

"Y'know, I think I'm good on spooky towahs' fer' now."

Ah! The Coward's Dowsing technique was a tried and true method of determining the proper way to go. If Emery didn't want to go into the looming structure before them, then that was clearly the right path. Rogue-types were exceptional at deducing where danger was most likely to be, and danger in this case meant treasure. He knew Emery wouldn't dare wander off on his own, either, so that could only mean one thing...

"Spooky tower it is! Wohoho!"

The champ hefted an axe over his shoulder and began his confident march towards the dark, open gateway on the front of the building. As he drew closer he gazed up the side. It looked like there were a number of sky bridges that connected this tower to other nearby structures, which meant that if things went sour or their quarry wasn't within, the duo could always move into another spot without having to jump out a window.

"C'mon, lil buddy, can't be any worse than that demon maze we spent the night in awhile back. Let's get to climbin'!" He hollered over his shoulder as he approached the tower's mouth. Standing beneath the clear cut archway. the bull stuck his tongue out and put a hand up to his ear and listened while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the interior.
Hmmm...nothin'.

Nothing yet anyways. It was difficult to make any quiet noises out over the sound of nearby rushing waterfalls and the endless babble of the river. It was difficult to make out any visual features within from where he stood, either. All he could see was particles of dust hanging listlessly in the air in the few rays of light that peaked through cracks and holes in the wall. Time for the thief to go to work...if he could light a cigarette up, maybe he could do the same to a room.

"Oi, Emery! You got a torch on ya? It's damn dark in here and my eyes don't switch modes as fast as they used to."

 

[Emery Thatcher]

Emery blinked wide eyed as he realized how much of a fool he'd just been played for. A little frustrated at the thought but he couldn't fault Toruuk for wanting to go somewhere scary. He was a literal beast, after all. He sighed once more and tried to remind himself he was with a minotaur, meaning he was much safer than normal. He also wasn't about to argue with him.

He followed right behind Toruuk as he trudged to the front of the tower. The entrance daunting like the maw of hell itself. His eyes panned across the room they stood before, no light seeming to sneak through a single crack. The sounds of nature Toruuk heard were all that entered Emery's ears as well.

He shook his head, "Unfortunly' not. I got a few matches left, but we gonna have to find one. I reckon there'll be one left behind by these goblins somewhere." He lit a match and stepped into the tower. Still so dark The match offering no sanctuary from that. Emery took two steps forward before he tripped on something, extinguishing his match immediately. He caught himself and picked up what he'd stumbled upon.

"Wouldya look at tha'." He said smugly, as he lit another match and lit his new found torch. The room was creepy, but mostly empty. Chairs of varying levels of decay toppled from time. A few scattered and broken arrows that lay beside some rusted armor. Banners flapping lightly from the small amount of wind that found its way in. Tell tale signs of a palisade.

"Y'think this was some sorta guard tower?"

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
_____________________

Caliane smiled briefly at Willis's fiery temper. It was comforting to know it was a bit of an ordeal for him too considering he had done these challenges before; she had been beginning to doubt her own metal on that last lap of the tower. If she had had to go another round she would have had to use her energy to not only fly but to conjure fire too. So soon after her months in captivity she doubted how long she would have lasted. Her head cocked to the side and her pointed ears twitched however as she recognised the soft click click clack of legs again. It was a long way off and she doubted the humans would even be able to hear it but she pressed a finger to her lips in a signal they would all need to keep their voices down. This was going to have to be a mission of stealth. She stepped into the inky darkness of the passage away so she was out of direct view should any of the insects fly by and pulled the two men after her so they might speak without fear of being seen. The darkness was so intense that to retreat much further into it and the trio would barely be able to see one another.

"My name is Caliane, this is Willis," ever polite, the winged elf decided to take the moment to introduce themselves to the new person in their little team as she carefully stretched out her wing to examine the damage. The strong curve of her left wing was dented inwards indicating a broken bone, but the bleeding was beginning to stop. "I am sorry about the..." her mind blanked on the Common word for a brief moment. "Roughhousing." Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft like the coo of an orchard dove. Glancing around their immediate area she picked up a broken piece of wood and broke it over her knee into two clean halves. With what looked like clearly practised ease she splinted the wing, ripping up a bit of her tunic to use as a bandage to hold the two pieces of wood in place. She spoke as she did this: "I promise, usually I am a better pilot," a hesitant smile, she was still trying to get used to Groundling humour. She did feel a teeny bit bad for dropping him, but Willis seemed fine and she had dropped him from 4ft at speed.

With the introductions done, she attempted to remove some of the dirt from herself before casting her eyes in the direction of the endless black hole that was the only other pathway they had. There was no noise, no hint of breeze. Nothing but darkness stretched before them now. Thinking on what the wizard had said about the lack of creature's ability to see, she picked up still more of the broken wood that lay around their feet and touched her hand to it. Briefly her emerald eyes turned red before the tip of the wood caught fire in a make shift torch. She passed one to Willis and set another two on fire so everyone had a way to see. Whilst it did mean the darkness retreated in the presence of the flames, it also meant they could see the horrors of the tunnel.

Whilst there were none of the insects in here, skeletons lay strew everywhere in various pieces of armour. The closest was inches from Cali's foot and she couldn't help but step back as the skeletal hand lay stretched out towards them. Its vacant eyes seemed to be pleading with them to help him, the other hand rested near where his throat would have been. He had been surprised, whatever had happened here, and he had attempted to crawl towards the balcony - perhaps to raise an alarm. But what was really alarming was the large skeletal wings each one possessed.

These people had been Avariel's. Caliane's people.

"Mother Have Mercy," Cali whispered in Elvish, her skin under the dirt going a deathly white.

***
Smiling One | Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

TREASURE 3: LOWER DISTRICT

Spoiler

The clash began on Majister's terms.

They were outnumbered, oh yes, but they had the arching portal on their side. Majister and Krull stood abreast just outside of it, on the landing of the staircase instead of inside the receiving hall. This would funnel the frenzied goblins through the portal, perhaps three or four at a time. Little bastards, of course, some might slip by, but this is where Darla, standing behind Majister and Krull, would come in as their skirmisher. With some appropriate zest and her viciously quick daggers, she was sure to keep their flanks and their backsides secure from any goblin harassment.

This was the plan.

It worked.

...Mostly.

Majister and Krull had a lovely time at the start! A thrust of a rapier here, a chop from an axe there, and the tone was already set. Two dead goblins and first blood most definitely on the handsome side in this quarrel! Gorgeous! The goblins behind them seemed no less frenzied and not a spot perturbed by the untimely slaying of their comrades, beastly runts as they are. Another two were felled at the portal and their bodies did quite little to actually block those behind them.

They scurried over. Jumped over. Leaped at Majister and Krull or scampered around them. Screaming and gibbering and tasting the air with their flailing tongues.

Oh Darla, such enthusiasm! She hides it well, she does, but with the right push at the gambling table or during a raid or when procuring a map (oh how she collects and studies them vigorously!) or, in this case, allowed free rein to stab squat green monsters such as these with her knives, hmm hmm, does that purring tiger ever come out!

And Krull was not to be discounted, either! An uncharacteristic orc in his speech and mannerisms, his near-perpetual serene calm, his colloquial laid-backness. But, much like Darla, his orcish nature shined in the right situation. Why, the man was a six-and-a-half foot tall mammoth of fearsome battle prowess. See, look there, why don't you! He just smashed a goblin down with his shield and literally caved his skull in with his armored boot! Seems the goblins recognized the true threat, for Krull--in comparison to Majister or Darla--was being positively swarmed by the manic bastards.

And this, being attacked from all sides now, is where their armor came in handy. Goblin spears and knives and stolen swords failed to puncture or slash through the chainmail, let alone the gambesons underneath--at first. Still, the little snots were frantic in their swings and thrusts, and carried a surprising strength powered by their sheer frenzied energy. Damaged and broken links in the mail began to mount, and it was the thick padded armor beneath that held the line here.

The goblins showed a devious cleverness too. In the whirling midst of the battle on the landing, one of the goblins had managed to hop onto Krull's back, unlatch the neckstrap of his helm from behind, pull the helm off of his head, and scurry off with it with neither Majister or Darla being able to help Krull in this troubling matter.

"Watch your backs!" Majister said.

"I'm trying!" Darla said, exasperated and perhaps thinking he'd said "watch our backs" and thinking herself unfairly blamed. She was busy swiping at a goblin who--much more so than his peers--was exceeding good at dodging.

And then Krull, swamped with three goblins of his own to fight, yelled, "Majister! Kill that one! With the green-tipped spear! It's poisoned!"

Majister pulled his rapier from the skull of a dead goblin, snapped his head to look, and, my, there was a goblin with a green-tipped spear, just then springboard jumping from the bodies of his fellows stuck in the portal and flying straight for Krull.

One quick thrust froze that malicious grin on the goblin's face forever. The creature was skewered through by Majister's rapier, and the green-tipped spear tumbled from its grip.

Within a minute, the last goblins were slain. Majister, Krull, and Darla stood ringed by disgusting little fetid bodies. And that slobbering runt who'd stolen Krull's helm watched them distantly from inside the receiving hall. He saw that they were victorious and, the helm clutched like some sort of trophy in both hands, went scampering off further into the hall.

"Shit," Darla said. Panting. Exhausted. "One got away."

Majister crouched. Wiped the blood from his rapier on one of the goblin bodies. Said, "Ah, yes, so he has. A wonderful development, is it not? I was beginning to fear that we might not have an appropriate challenge for so esteemed an item. A dreary disappointment should we acquire it with nary a struggle, wouldn't you say?"

Krull glanced back. Noticed something. "Darla."

"Yeah?"

"Your healing potion is gone."

Darla patted at her belt. Swore. And her cheeks puffed out in a flustered way. "Well...so's your helm, what do you think about that?"

Krull just smiled. "I shall now hear clearly."

"Well," Majister said, rising to his feet, "fine work to the both of you! But I say that the Bammaram isn't going the loot itself! Now then! Perhaps, if we should be so lucky, that slimy little ne'er-do-well's dirty footprints might point us the correct direction to our destination! And I'm here to tell you that we will liberate this mighty artifact from the clutches of him and his ilk! Onward!"

And Majister, Darla, and Krull re-entered the receiving hall and started on the way into the Lower District proper.

 

[Jair]

Someone, somewhere said the magic word "loot", and of course the giant was the last to hear. Something about being far from where most gossip was spread. Never the less, Jair heard the call, and started plodding his way through a half deserted Lower District. When he hear someone fighting. Now that's what Jair knew well. He quickened his pace, and readied his meteor hammer.

For those not in the know, Jair is a giant, a giant of a giant he stands at twenty feet, and weighs better than a ton, and the term meteor hammer is synonymous with ships anchor, on a rope.

He found that there were few enemies in his path, then again not many people are willing to tussel with a giant who's running at a good jog. He also started to notice that the sounds of battle had died down.

By the time he reached where the sound of battle was coming from, the eldritch giant found himself to be somewhat disappointed. His rune tattoos still mildly glowed with excitement, as he looked at the man with short well-groomed brown hair, and trimmed beard.

"Well hello there." The giant said in some what of a surprised tone.

((Tag Mathis &Co))

((OOC: Sorry I'm trying to get back into things, it's taking some time due to RL things though))