- Messages
- 338
- Character Biography
- Link
Darkness has fallen on several towns near Faragen.
He was roughly, according to a very old map- quite near Faragen. Maybe a town over, only a few miles outside of the outskirts of the city. Faragen was a farming community- and a central trading post for the area. To say that the lack of traffic wasn't noticed by the neighbors was an understatement to say the least.
The Nordenfiir riding a horse into town was also noticed by the townsfolk as well. Nordenfiir were not known for their horseriding abilities.. or their horse riding in general. Not a lot of horses were up to the task of carrying Arnor, let alone many Nordenfiir- except Arnor's exceptionally large work horse, Rhi.
Rhi trotted into town, with Arnor on the back. Arnor was dressed to impress- and dressed to kill. Arnor's cuirass was adorned with his usual adventure gear, and his twin swords, one silver, one steel- poised and ready to kill at any moment's notice. However, Arnor was a very stoic man, and didn't carry the air of violence around him all the time. For now, he was playing the part of adventurer- and quite well.
Arnor's horse stopped in the middle of the village, glancing to and fro. Rhi had a personality of it's own, much like his owner- though people tended to like the horse more than they liked Arnor himself. Arnor slid off the large horse with a heavy thud into the mud under his feet. People parted for him as he headed into the tavern, intent on carrying on after a brief respite. He paid for a room and feed for Rhi- and curiously- mead for the horse. A lot of it. The tavern owner took Arnor's money all the same.
They asked why he was here- he gave them a simple answer.
"I came to find out what happened to Faragen."
The room went silent at the mention of the town. Everyone knew what happened to it- but no one dared venture into it. Curious Templars came and asked questions, and supposedly a Dreadlord even. But no one had dared venture into the town, save for a party of Elves who no one had heard from since, and the worst was feared. But the reality was, that whatever was consuming the life from Faragen, was spreading.
And the evil within it, growing stronger. It lingered in the air itself. And Arnor came to find out what happened.
And it happened that a neighboring community had paid him upfront, half, at least, to find out what happened. Enough to fund a particular wish of his. But that was for another time- Arnor had a mission... Venture into Faragen, and put a stop to the evil within.
He looked up at the tavern owner, staring at him while he drank his shitty mead.
"I'm looking for volunteers."
Faragen itself- is empty.
No life.
No sound.
No people.
The towns around Faragen grow fearful...there is an evil to the air. Death creeps outwards- the life drained from the land itself. Not even the vultures dare go near Faragen.
He was roughly, according to a very old map- quite near Faragen. Maybe a town over, only a few miles outside of the outskirts of the city. Faragen was a farming community- and a central trading post for the area. To say that the lack of traffic wasn't noticed by the neighbors was an understatement to say the least.
The Nordenfiir riding a horse into town was also noticed by the townsfolk as well. Nordenfiir were not known for their horseriding abilities.. or their horse riding in general. Not a lot of horses were up to the task of carrying Arnor, let alone many Nordenfiir- except Arnor's exceptionally large work horse, Rhi.
Rhi trotted into town, with Arnor on the back. Arnor was dressed to impress- and dressed to kill. Arnor's cuirass was adorned with his usual adventure gear, and his twin swords, one silver, one steel- poised and ready to kill at any moment's notice. However, Arnor was a very stoic man, and didn't carry the air of violence around him all the time. For now, he was playing the part of adventurer- and quite well.
Arnor's horse stopped in the middle of the village, glancing to and fro. Rhi had a personality of it's own, much like his owner- though people tended to like the horse more than they liked Arnor himself. Arnor slid off the large horse with a heavy thud into the mud under his feet. People parted for him as he headed into the tavern, intent on carrying on after a brief respite. He paid for a room and feed for Rhi- and curiously- mead for the horse. A lot of it. The tavern owner took Arnor's money all the same.
They asked why he was here- he gave them a simple answer.
"I came to find out what happened to Faragen."
The room went silent at the mention of the town. Everyone knew what happened to it- but no one dared venture into it. Curious Templars came and asked questions, and supposedly a Dreadlord even. But no one had dared venture into the town, save for a party of Elves who no one had heard from since, and the worst was feared. But the reality was, that whatever was consuming the life from Faragen, was spreading.
And the evil within it, growing stronger. It lingered in the air itself. And Arnor came to find out what happened.
And it happened that a neighboring community had paid him upfront, half, at least, to find out what happened. Enough to fund a particular wish of his. But that was for another time- Arnor had a mission... Venture into Faragen, and put a stop to the evil within.
He looked up at the tavern owner, staring at him while he drank his shitty mead.
"I'm looking for volunteers."