Nation of the Dead [IC]

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

NATION OF THE DEAD

Thanks Threeshades!

The village of Esemal-Along-the-Dale.

A small farming community on a place near the border of the woods and the plains of Tanzen. The population is a mere 600 or so people, very few of much power and a vast majority of the community farms for a living. There is a blacksmith, a tavern(the Weary Mule), a church of Torzen(the god of farming) and whatever a small farming community and rest-stop may have. It is run by a charming ol' fellow who's ancestors founded this town generations ago which got him an easy space as town mayor.
Luckily, for everyone that appreciates their beating heart and free will, it is a blindspot to a series of attacks on villages in the nearby regions by the mindless undead of Arcnus Mortis. It is thought to be so insignificant that it will never be attacked, but no one is sure.

[The Demented One]

"Once more the sun awakes, and so do I." Zenra rhymes sleepily, as he gets up from the mouldery straw mattress he has become accustomed to sleeping in. He puts on his customary white vest and cape, garments he is rarely seen out of, though the fabric seems far heavier than any normal wool. He straps to his belt a large, ornately-crafted two-handed sword, far more well made than any of his other positions. He hasn't had cause to draw the blade for weeks, owing to the tranquility of Esemal, but wouldn't let himself be caught without it. He props up the pane of broken glass that serves as his mirror, and puts on his face, quite literally. His pale, changeling face twists like soft clay, taking on new forms. Zenra leaves his changeling face plainly visible, not masking it, but does remove the silvery stubble that has cropped on his face, along with the dark rings that surround his eyes.

He then begins his morning exercises, jolting his mind and body into wakefulness. He whirls across the singe small room of the shack he is, rehearsing carefully timed exercises and martial forms, all timed to a perfect iambic beat.

[purepolarpanzer]

Bruin

Father Aeomon, I devote my soul to you. Should I die this day, take me into your warm embrace. Should others die this day, let me lift them like your children up to you. Should people die a perverted death, one without closure or peace...
The large Half-orc hands lifted the massive mace as an offering.
Give me the strength to strike them down and relieve their suffering.
After this whispered vigil, Bruin stands up fromhis prayers, feeling satisfied and ready for the day. He had stopped at this traveler's rest of a town as a pause in his journey, but had work to do within the town as well. He climbed down the stairs of the small inn. If anyone was sick this day, he would heal them. If they fell this day, he would make their passing peaceful, as was the way of Aeomon. He looks for the inn keeper to ask if anyone in the village is in need of assistance.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

He looks for the inn keeper to ask if anyone in the village is in need of assistance.

"Don't reckon so, sir. Not an illness I 'eard o' 'round 'ere. Jus' alo' o' broken 'earts..." He points to an elderly couple walking in the door, the woman weeps quietly into her dirty cloth and her grey-bearded husband holds and arm around her, looking just as weary as the mule on the sign outside.
"The dead been attackin' many villages 'round this'n... 'fraid it's claimed alot o' hearts close to ours... Now, 'ow can I help you as fer breakfast?"

[Kaelik]

Tarkimos

What to do now? Sitting at the corner of the bar, Tarkimos glances around the room to make sure no one is has noticed his deformities. Not noticing anyone, he still pulls his cape more tightly around himself, concealing his arms as best he can. The beating in his head commands his attention, demanding that he slay undead. But why did I awake here? Where I cannot fulfill my command?

He stares blankly at his drink, wondering what could be in store for him today.

((He will have all 24 hour duration buffs up except Invisibility. I can't remember for certain what those may be, since rpgwebprofiler is down.))

[purepolarpanzer]

I would love something simple, maybe some bread, butter, and tea, if you've got it. It's good for the soul to enjoy the basics once in a while.
Bruin slipped a silver piece onto the counter, realizing this was gross overpayment, but also enjoying the sense that the inn keeper was genuinely unbiased against him, something rare, especially in a small town like this.
He set his massive mace, carried with him wherever he went, next to his chair. The holy symbol at the top seemed a perfect focus for his meal meditation, so he said a swift, silent prayer right there. As the meal was gathered and served, Bruin peered around the room to see if anyone interesting was awake yet.

[Grenadier]

Callais awakens in a bed that's not his own. Granted, it's not often that he does awaken in his own. It'd be easy for him to claim that it was due to his 'profession', but in all reality, it wasn't often he even paid for his lodging. Well, in the traditional sense, anyway. The lightest flicker of distaste crosses the half-elf's face as he slips from under a dirtied sheet and gathers his dusty clothing. He isn't about to voice his distaste of the cleanliness of his lodgings, however. After all, the sleeping young woman is pretty enough, although he can't recall her name.

'Isn't it a variety of flower?' Callais silently wonders as he dresses, brushing at the light patches of dust on his fine clothing whenever he sees them. Being that she's at least a decade younger than him and the daughter of a farmer, he was rather surprised when he found out the previous night that she was unwed. It works to his advantage, though. Speaking from previous experiences that he has no desire to repeat, an angered husband is more trouble than it is worth.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

The girl wakes up with a bright smile and dangling locks of curly blond hair dangle about her head, green eyes flutter open and lock on Callais. She holds the sheets in front of her. "Good morning Callais, darling!" And suddenly the sounds of stomping work-boots come to the door and the sounds of pounding are heard on the opposite side of the door.
"ROSE! ROSE, OPEN THE DOOR!!" The girl, now apparently named Rose gasps, "Daddy!"

[The Demented One]

Having completed his morning rituals, Zenra heads down to the Weary Mule for breakfast. "Good morning, friends. I trust the night went well?" he says as he walks in. He looks at the barkeep, who he's come to know well in his time at Esenal. "I am famished, have you a pint of ale?" he says, with a slightly sing-song quality of voice. He sits at the bar, and takes a good long look at the stranger sitting next to him, the one who seems so eager to remain unseen. "Hello, stranger. I don't believe I've seen you here before. What brings you to the town of Esemal?"

[theterran]

Sitting in the corner of the Weary Mule, tending to his pint, a gnome eyes the seemly cheery fellow that has just burst through the door.

I doubt people here even truly understand what they face. If they did than this one probably wouldn't be so chipper...

Turning his attention back to his mug, Talafin attempts to drown his sorrows in ale.

[Kaelik]

Tarkimos

Turning his eyes on the intrusive stranger, he looks deeper then the surface. Don't really know, just happened by.

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Detect Magic Concentration at Talafin.

[The Demented One]

"You will leave us soon? Or will you stay? Zenra asks, trying to be as genial as possible for one who has not yet had his morning's pint. "My name is Zenra Crucifer. And yours?"

[purepolarpanzer]

Wiping his mouth, Bruin picked up his mace and shouldered his pack. Heading outside, he looked up and down the small town.
What to do now? MaybeI should move on. Other areas may be in more dire need of my help...

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Wiping his mouth, Bruin picked up his mace and shouldered his pack. Heading outside, he looked up and down the small town.
What to do now? MaybeI should move on. Other areas may be in more dire need of my help...

It becomes obvious to you now just how many people weep... they walk the streets in tears. The barkeep said there have been many lives close to this town taken by the walking dead... More so than he let on, it seems.

[purepolarpanzer]

On the other hand, it seems the people here need consoling... and sometimes it is the living who need the most help with death.
Bruin slides his hands into his robes, taking out his holy symbol, laughing when he thought how far from normal robes they were. Keeping his hood up, hefting his mace like a staff, he raised it high and called out.
Take heart, good people. Aeomon, Lord of the Gentle Passing, has accepted as many of your loved ones as he could. I know you feel pain at their loss, and that is pain at seperation from them, as you would feel if they left. However, you will see them again, as all are rejoined on the other side. But do not grieve for them. Grieve for those who have risen again in the service of dark magics. For death is but a transisition to a better place, while those who rise again as undead must die a second time to find their reward in his realms.
Bruin stood firm, waiting for the jeer that were surely to come. Most people, especialy those in the outskirts of civilization, thought his church a morbid group devoted to death. If only they knew he was a servant meant to make death a simple passage to something better. Hopefully atleast one person would find his words comforting. That would make any ordeal he suffered worth it.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Many look upon the benevolent half-orc with awe, some with fear; Simply walking past while stopping their cries of woe as if to become less noticeable. Some even seem to look upon him as though his words were comforting. But many find his words bitter, especially when escaping the mouth of a savage...
"You bloody dog! Don't stain their memories with your black tongue!" and so they begin throwing peddles, stones and twigs at you. "Be gone, half-orc!"
The few who looked upon you with more hope than before now seem to sheepishly lower their heads in pity of Bruin.

[Green Leviathan]

Grumkik

From the back corner of the bar, Grumkik slowly stirs and rises from his chair. With both hand he pulls back the hood covering his face revealing a gaunt half-orc with sun drenched weathered skin. With a voice full of command with a gruff sound Grumkik adressess Bruin.
Come now brother, do you really expect more from humans such as these. They do not know what kindness you do them. They should fight the comming tide and yet they stand hide here in this blip of a village. I say let thoughs who would not fight be the first to fall. Me, i plan to live, and to do that i will help stem this flood and they will prosper under the protection that comes from the sweat of my brow and thoughs like me. They are nothing but cattle.

With that Grumkik glares around the room looking for challengers and if seeing none will sit back down and pick up his drink and stare at the faces of the humans who stare at him.

[Grenadier]

He doesn't appear to acknowledge the girl's bubbly demeanor or the disgusting endearment, but it makes Callais realize that he should have left last night. If only he had known she'd be so... affectionate.

Clasping her hands in his own, the half-elf tells her, "My dearest, I'm afraid I must take my leave. Alas, this could be very well that this is the last time we meet, given my profession." Thank the gods for that. He vaguely remembers telling her that he was an emissary the night before. "It pains me to have to leave your side, but I will forever remember this night." The lie brings him a small satisfaction, if only due to the young woman's obnoxious personality.

Callais feels a flash of annoyance when there's a great pounding at the door and the booming voice to accompany it. At the very least he now knew the girl's name, not that he had a use for it anymore. He drops Rose's hands and promptly wipes his gloved hands on a handkerchief he retrieves from his vest pocket. With that, he gives her an fake smile and moves to the window, which swings open, and climbs out of the single-story house and towards the tavern. With any luck, he'll be lost amongst the other travelers there.

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bluff: (1d20+16)[27]

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

The naive young girl holds her hand up to her mouth and her eyes get all starry. "He's so daring..." she mutters to herself as Callais leaves through the window and her father smashes the door down with pitch-fork in hand. He looks around, dumbfounded. "Bloody... noises..."

[purepolarpanzer]

With his pure white cloak on and his hood up, the thrown objects ping off Bruin without him even feeling them. But the insults strike deep, in a wound that may never heal. Hearing the words of the other half-orc, Bruin walks over to him.
Yes... but it is the herdsmen who cares for the cattle. And I am the herdsmen for my god, who graciously accepts all into his embrace. Tell me though, who are you? It's been so long since I've seen another of my kind I wondered if they were hiding from me.
Realizing it may be rude to ask for ones identity without providing his own, Bruin planted his Reaper, holding it high, near the head.
I am Bruin, Battle Priest of Aeomon. I, too, struggle against these hoardes, trying to purge as many as I can from the world of the living. The blood I have shed for this task is only overwhelmed by my faith that it is my duty and the bodies I have left, freed from their cursed bond to this plane.

[Kaelik]

Tarkimos

Turning his attention back to his drink, Tarkimos feels the rush of his internal commands swell over him. Letting himself sway for a bit, drowned in his own mind he stays quiet.

After a while he looks up, surprised to see the man still there. Don't really know. Not important. Anywhere is as good as anywhere else.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

A young woman seems hesitant, but seems to approach the servant of the white reaper once the bigoted crowd has dispersed. She seems weary and tired from her sorrow but looks upon him with bright eyes, eyes full of awe and hope at the sight of him. "You seek to purge the dead? I... My family was taken not long ago... in a town not far from here. In Elington, east of here, but survivors have returned here to tell us, they know where the undead armies march to. Hadeston, north-east of here, not 6 miles distance... The armies of death will arrive there by nightfall to end life there... Will you end this plague? Will you make the lives lost not be in vain?" She speaks quickly but coherently with desperation in her voice.

[purepolarpanzer]

Bruin immediately hoists his mace over his shoulder.
I will either purge the perversions or die trying.
He reaches out and rests a large hand on the woman's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he starts to pray.
Lord Aeomon, please raise the sorrow off this woman's heart. Let her know that you have taken her family away from the pain, strife, and evils of this world to a better place. Also, give her the reassurance that she will see her family, in time, after she has lived a decent life befitting one of your children.
He then turns to the half-orc who tried to help him against the crowd.
I can't ask you to come with me, but I would welcome the help. I'm going to see what others I can rally, as this traveller's town should hold atleast a few more who could help in the coming battle. If you choose to help, spread the word and rally more to the cause and meet me in front of the inn to get horses. If not, I won't think any worse of you.
He then turns and strides through the town, bellowing a message.
The town of Hadeston is about to be assaulted by the Undead leagions. I march there. Whether you fight for the good of the living, for profit, or for reasons all your own, please assist me in defending the innocents there. I will personally see that the Church of Aeomon rewards you somehow, and if they for some reason can't, will repay you for your services my self. Please, come to aid, for we are all made brothers when fighting the perverted souls that attack us. Some of you have felt the grief of loss, and know how these attacks hurt the very soul. Prevent that from happening to others, and take up arms. Follow me!

[Green Leviathan]

Grumkik

<i>hrm, This one seems he might prove to be useful, if a little devout.</i> Thinking it over for a moment while Bruin finishes his speech to the town Grumkik approaches the battle priest.

"I have decided that you will find ample use for my aid and that I am willing to give it. You may call me Grumkik. I control the Arcane arts and the sands of our Orcish lands." Raises voice so that the crowd will here "Hopefully more will lend what support they can, even if they cannot join us in combat."

Lowering his voice back down " I would not expect much from those that live here, our best chance is with other travelers such as ourselves. I will go and wait in front of the Inn untill you are satisfied with those you have gathered."

if nothing else, Grumkik head back toward the Inn.

[drackcove]

Bergelius

Suddenly an angel walks into the room bearing a warhammer. Angelic light radiates from him, filling many with awe and wonder. On top of his silvery skin is his impressive Breastplate armor and a solid white cloak. He says nothing just being there he is made known.

(edit-apparantly more is needed about the glowing angel)

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Bergelius

Suddenly an angel walks into the room bearing a warhammer. Angelic light radiates from him, filling many with awe and wonder.

(do i need anymore description than that?)

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You really can't be more descriptive...?
Really, more would be greatly appreciated... Everyone else so far mostly has at least a few paragraphs per post.

[drackcove]

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(ooc of course I can do more. But i'm a Freaken Glowing angel, there is oodles and oodles on information transmuted just from that. I suppose I can add a few details.)

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

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Think about it this way, roleplaying isn't about what you have to do, it's about what you can do. Sure you can say you look like an angel and walk into the tavern, but that's all people will know. You should express yourself, put your soul into text. It is brilliant light and awe-striking, yes, but make the readers believe that, not just the bar patrons. Y'know?

[nitpick]And I think incarnate avatar is semi-translucent...[/nitpick]

[Grenadier]

Callais dashes through the field that separates the small farmhouse from the rest of the village, and at the end of it slows to a stroll. Judging by the somber faces of the townspeople, the undead were quite likely to be nearby. That makes his mission all the more simple, which pleases Callais. Visiting remote villages is far from an the half-elf's idea of an enjoyable trip, and searching for the legions of undead would have made it all the more unpleasant.

Sauntering towards the tavern, he catches the bellows of a white-robed half-orc. How convenient. Casually, Callais approaches the half-orc with a sly smile and waits for his companion to finish speaking.

"You've made an intriguing offer, follower of Aeomon. Though, I'll agree with your companion in that few of the townsfolk will be eager fight the undead, and add that fewer still would be inclined to aid a pair of half-orcs." Callais notes with interest the sapphire brooch on the other half-orc's belt, and his sly smile broadens as he immediately knows the Magi's name, branch, and rank. The half-elf's own brooch is hidden from sight on a chain under his shirt, and that knowledge pleases him all the more.

"Callais Nevilim." he introduces himself to the half-orcs with confidence. "I'm an enchanter of sorts, and while my strengths lie with the living as opposed to the dead, I believe I can help you gentlemen acquire the aid that you seek."

[drackcove]

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Note: it has been edited...like yesterday. [counternitpick] The Picture of it was semitranslucent. The text on the otherhand did not specify. So its up to the Dm to rule. so if you insist on it being translucent, again i'll edit.[/counternitpick]