Eragon, Where Dragons dare

[Cracklord]

Leonidas
Floating amongst the sewerage, your men were forcet to abandon yheir breastplates to keep their head above water. Leonidas smashes his blade against the chain again and again as soon as he gets a chance. The blade's edge is utterly ruined, and yet it barely seems to be having an effect.
At last, the chain snaps, and he manages to begin to force up the grate, with barely . It is then that something cold and slimy coils around his leg, and begins slowly but inexorably as gravity, to drag him into the depths.
He has time for a single breathful of air before he is completely submerged.

Black Knight
The arrows bounce of the enchanted shield. Their guards toss their crossbows aside, and have just the time to begin to draw their swords before you are on them.
It's over in seconds.
The alarm has been sounded an you have to move quickly. Your bags show signs of being searched, and seem lighter then when you arrived. Your saddle is with them.

[darkblade]

Leonidas

Leonidas draws his spear and puts it in between him and whatever is trying to pull him down into the sewage as the rest of his men make their way up into the room up above.

***

Black Knight

Taking his Lord's name in vain Percy curses as he grabs his bags and tries to make it back to the horse.

[Cracklord]

Percy
Thunder has made his way out of his stall and is waiting for you, whinnying softly, somehow knowing about the danger you are in. There isn't time to do more then give the saddle a cursory attachment, and tighten the basic straps and then you leave, galloping through the streets like you horses namesake.

Leonidas
It's like poking rubbery steel, your spear is doing little damage. The thing, as best you can tell, isn't even noticing. You can't see anything, the water is too dense with waste, and your lungs are already burning, but you can endure it.
Most of your men are out, and then Stelios begins to be pulled down by whatever has you.

[darkblade]

Black Knight

Percy rides away from the city as fast as he can. Once he is a significant distance away he checks his supplies particularly the magic he was given for the rituals Merlin taught him to summon his sword and to contact Camelot in an emergency.

***

Leonidas

Leonidas drops his spear and attempts to pry the gripping apendage off of his heel while Stelios slashes at the gripping apendage.

[Cracklord]

Leonidas
You manage to get your fingers under, after a few failed tries, and slip your foot out. The thing doesn't seem to realize it's lost grip. You make it to the surface, where you warriors haul you out.
There is no sign of Stelios.

Percy
Everything you brought is there, except the notes Arthur wrote for you, and the instructions Merlin provided. Your rations have even been replaced, and your waterskin and wineskin filled.

[Prime32]

Lina Inverse
"Hey, Lina, *chomp* have something! The food here's pretty good!"
"Uuurghh... With you turning my purse into a desert I suppose I'd better eat light. For a start, I'll have one of everything on the menu..."

[Cracklord]

Suddenly, one of the waiters hovering around the table like a vulture convulsed, his muscles twisting and shuddering as he was wracked with pain. Mouth stretching in a soundless scream he fell to the ground. Something dark and ancient invaded his thoughts, his will not merely brushed aside, but swept away as though it had never been.
Then he stood up, his hair lengthening and reddening, the color deserting his skin and his eyes already bright red and cold as the heart of space. His muscles swelled, and even his clothes changed, until in moments he was dressed exactly like he had been before, even his sword was present. Bearing shark like teeth, he threw himself at Lina, swinging the skeletal blade.
All the other customers screamed, getting as far away as quickly as possible.

[darkblade]

Black Knight

Well this is quest has failed in ever possible manner. Percy creates a camp fire and marks the arcane runes he requires to contact Merlin in the dirt around it. Sprinkling some foul smelling powers upon the fire causing it to change colour into a deep vilet hue he sits and waits for Merlin to reply.

***

Leonidas

The King sighed a great sigh at the loss of Stelios as he surveyed his surrondings upon leaving the sewers.

[Cracklord]

Percy
At first nothing happens. Silence stretches on, as the chant fades into the wind. slowly, the runes fade into the ground, and the fire flickers and dies.Abruptly, there is a flash, and a figure in a druidic white robe appears. He is craggy and hard, with a closely cut beard, and their is a set to his eyes that would be arrogance if he wasn't always right. His beard is stained yellow in places, and his eyes are a little bloodshot. Faded ink stains are visible on his cheeks on what were once Celtic and Irish markings.
"Yes?" He snaps, rudely. Merlin had never really bothered with politeness.

Leonidas
The street is deserted, the civilians have been evacuated and the soldiers don't know your in. Like most of the garrisoned Imperial cities, the streets are winding to discourage attackers.

[darkblade]

Percy

"Merlin, nice to talk to you too." Percy replies.

"Things did not go well with the Varden."

***

Leonidas

The Spartans remain in formation as they patrol the streets.

[Cracklord]

Percy
The ancient wizard stares at you irritably. "What did you do, call their leader a backwards heathen?" He sighs, a frown adding more lines to his face. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. But listen. All is not well. Arthur still won't crown himself king, even though Mordred is mad, and worse, a fool." As far as Merlin was concerned, stupidity was an unforgivable sin. "King Oengus Mac Airem is about ready to reopen hostilities, and the rest of the Irish are ready to back him. Lancelot has more influence with the queen and the common people then we'd like, and the Christians will back anyone who isn't Arthur." Merlin leans forward, his bushy brows lifting. "We can't afford a war. With anyone else. Understand?"

Leonidas
As you do, you see a city patrol moving ahead, holding pikes and shields, each in red and brown leather, with iron helmets and faceguards. At their head is a man in a black robe.

Lord Soth
It is midnight. Nuasda is sleeping, and Eragon has escaped. The knight you fought before has escaped, and all is silent.

Raistlin
For a moment, you think she's not going to answer. At last she sighs, her sword point still lowered to the ground. "What do you want?" She asks, resignation making her musical voice less appealing. Whatever her qualities, she is beautiful, and her immortality lets Raistlin see her in her youth.

Lina Inverse
Suddenly, one of the waiters hovering around the table like a vulture convulsed, his muscles twisting and shuddering as he was wracked with pain. Mouth stretching in a soundless scream he fell to the ground. Something dark and ancient invaded his thoughts, his will not merely brushed aside, but swept away as though it had never been.
Then he stood up, his hair lengthening and reddening, the color deserting his skin and his eyes already bright red and cold as the heart of space. His muscles swelled, and even his clothes changed, until in moments he was dressed exactly like he had been before, even his sword was present. Bearing shark like teeth, he threw himself at Lina, swinging the skeletal blade.
All the other customers screamed, getting as far away as quickly as possible.

Darkwolf
The supplies are rude vegetables and salted meat, stocked neatly, as well as ale and water in barrels. As best you can tell, they haven't even been disturbed. As far as you can tell through close examination, none are even soiled, let alone poisoned. You find a few more corpses, slaughtered in their beds, the old, the sick, and children. A few are wearing jewelry, suggesting the attackers disdained to take even their wealth.
The storm has broken outside, and you find nothing further of interest that provides a hint to motive or the perpetrators of this... atrocity.

[industrious]

Raistlin

The archmage sits on the hot desert ground, leaving the Staff behind. It still remains perfectly straight despite the lack of any sort of support. The wizard's voice is calm and polite, never rising above a whisper.

"Do not worry, my dear; I left a map for the Varden to follow. They should be here within a few days, or if Eragon himself decides to rescue you, he will find you within a few hours. Until then, I find myself curious. Tell me about yourself; your childhood, your relationships, whatever you desire. And in return, I will tell you about me in kind, and possibly more. Because in the end, every scrap you tell me will give you and your little resistance more information to use against me. Come, sit down, and talk."

[Cracklord]

She drops the sword and sits too, heedless of the scalding sand on her bare skin. "You just want to talk?" She asks incredulously. "Fine, I'll talk. This is my story: the man I believed to be my father was killed six months after I was born, my people were driven to the brink of extinction and forced to endure this... primitive existence, and my mother was made her love and peoples killer's concubine for months, until he tired of her and cast her aside. It was in those months I was conceived. Elves do not marry, so my mother has no claim to the throne, but she took it anyway, and nobody resisted much. Since, I have spent my life working to bring down the Empire, the cause of my people's suffering. I have had no close friends as others could sense on some level I was different and avoided me, and one lover, the finest elf whoever walked beneath the sky, who was killed by treachery before he could even draw his sword."
She looked at him, some of her haughty pride creeping into her bearing. "I have met the man who fathered me once, in an event I'd rather not repeat, and now serve as bait for a hopeless cause. That is the significance of my life." She said the words bitterly, but proudly, shouldering a responsibility she had taken on herself.

[industrious]

Raistlin

"And with Eragon? What of you and the Rider?" the wizard smiles; on any other man it would look pleasant, but on him it looks to be a twisted parody, a death mask made life. Apparently the woman had some fire to her. Still sitting comfortably, the man's eyes take on a distant, far off bent to them.

"It is so very hard, being different. I was born on the edge of death; I survived through sheer willpower alone. My brother was a buffoon; strong in body, though, he managed to win the admiration of our so-called peers. I was left alone; my childhood nickname was "The Sly One." I have struggled throughout all my life to master my fate, to overcome my weakness. And I have succeeded. Strong in my Art, I have seen wonders that you could not bear to be parted from, terrors that would give the bravest man in the world nightmares. And above all, I have remained in control. There is nothing on this continent that can stop me, save for one being: your dearly beloved Rider."

[Cracklord]

The elf can't help it. She laughs. Hard and long, slightly crazed with worry and hysterics, she laughs at your reply. "You think i love him?" She says, tears of mirth in her eyes. "Please." She stops at last. "Oh, how little you see. I cannot spurn him, for as our only hope of killing my father we need him loyal to our cause, and any perceived betrayal could cut him loose, but I would sooner submit to the attentions of the beasts in the stables then give myself to him." She replies bitterly.
"And you think Eragon is what you should fear? Wait until you see what's coming. He's just a boy with more power then he can deal with. He's the last hope of a desperate people. It's not him you should be afraid of."
She stares at him, and suddenly you seem on equal footing. Physically you may have dominance, but she has just discovered how little you know about the world, giving her an advantage.
"I know your type. Power. That is all you want. Well, this is the wrong side to be searching."

[industrious]

"Then who, my dear?" Raistlin seems unmoved by her statements. If anything, the man looks amused. "The King? Your father? Or perhaps a Shade? My dear, I have thwarted the designs of deities. No mortal creation can stand against me."

[Cracklord]

At that she smiles. "And you yourself are a mortal. Do you believe yourself to be the mightiest being in the universe, surpassing all others? In the end, your just a lonely boy desperate for attention, desperate to show how far you've come. Scarcely better then Eragon. My father will tear you to pieces." She says, standing up again. For a moment, she looks at the sun unblinking, and, seemingly satisfied, begins to walk away, back towards the city you took her from, heedless of her nudeness and leaving the blade in the sand where she dropped it.

[industrious]

Raistlin

The smirk grows. Absently, the mage opens a pouch of marbles, and begins juggling them; a pouch of spell components slides to the ground as he does so. As one, a particularly fascinating green specimen nears the apex of its flight, the wizard whispers Words of Power bought by his last bargain with the spirit of Fistandantilus. And suddenly, the archmage looks through eyes that do not see everything dead and decaying. Suddenly, the archmage's limbs are not frail, but strong, stronger than any human's. And those eyes that see life gaze upon the image of a frail golden-skinned man gaping in shock, surrounded by fallen marbles.

In the body of Arya, the mind of the Master of Past and Present sends the maiden, who now resides in his body, to his Tower at Palanthas. To the basement, where the Live Ones, half-failed attempts to create life itself, reside. To his scrying pool, which is now fixed firmly upon the body that Raistlin has chosen to inhabit, so that Arya can see everything. She will not be able to do much of anything else; the Guardians of his Tower have very specific commands about letting his body leave that room. She will be fed, of course, on the bread and fruit that is all that Raistlin can eat.

The greatest archmage who ever lived upon Krynn picks the Staff of Magius, and folds it down until it resembles nothing more than a stray stick, and half-buries the marbles and pouch into the sand. He smiles, in the elf maid's body, and speaks in her voice, directed towards the girl now trapped inside his Tower, forced by lack of options to watch him.

"We shall see, my dear. We shall see."

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Soth wanders the castle; Nuasuada had forbidden him from watching her sleep, so he merely wandered. As he grew impatient, he started to wander the halls, searching for....something; he wasn't sure what.

[Cracklord]

It's almost day when you see it, like an enormous bird, it's scales a beautiful shade of incomparable blue. Eragon leaps of the side of his dragon, striding towards Raistlin. "Arya! When I heard what happened, I feared..." His voice trails off. The boy is clearly enraptured by your nudeness.

Lord Soth
After keeping up you nightime wanderings, not tormented by the ghosts of past sins for one of the few times in more then a century, Nuasda meets with you. She is dressed in a low-cut dress that uses her figure to generous advantage without restricting her movement, and has a sword at her hip.
"It's time. Eragon will be there shortly. The courtyard, now."

[doliest]

Lord Soth
He nods, "Yes M'lady." He moves quickly to the courtyard, knowing that the battle to decide the fate of this land is at hand; he will burn this land for her, and bathe their matrimony in the King's blood. He at lasts reaches the courtyard, glancing over the force he has been given.

[Cracklord]

Orik was arrayed in the full regalia of a dwarven king preparing for war. He clutched Volund in a spiked gauntlet, and wore a horned helm on his brow. His beard was plaited into an intricate series of knots, giving him a barbaric appearance, and he wore heavy plate armor, leaving almost none of his skin visible. Another dwarf, Gannel, high priest of the Quan stood beside Orik, clad in his usual robes. Orik flicked his free hand in a casual salute. Gannel didn’t say a word, his hooded eyes expressionless.
Nar Garzhvog was not seated, as no regular chair could ever hold his vast bulk. Instead he couched on the floor. He was dressed in assorted pieces of armor that seemed mismatched, and wore a great axe as long as Lord Soth was tall on one shoulder.And Lord Soth had been a tall man.
Jörmundur was dressed in chainmail, a helmet decorated with wings on his brow. Behind them stood about thirty warriors, all handling their weapons with a reassuring amount of competency.
Nuada stared at him. "These are our best." She said. "I will not send any more, I do not believe in risking everything on a single chance."

[industrious]

"Arya"

'Arya' meets the Riders gaze levelly. "Eragon, I hope you brought a spare shirt or the like; I can hardly get back to the Varden in my current state." 'Her' eyes flick to Saphira. "Hello again, Saphira. The two of you seem to have rescued me again," 'she' says warmly.

[Cracklord]

Fumbling, Eragon removes his shirt and hands it to her, his eyes remaining at her chest. Your somewhat surprised he's not drooling. Saphira inclines her head, but doesn't say a word.

[darkblade]

Black Knight

"There leaders are reckless monsters allying ourselves with them would bring greater chaos on Camelot, but I wouldn't worry too much the leaders are angered with the Black Knight not with Camelot." Percy explains.

"They have allied themselves with a powerful Wizard and a strange undead warrior. I believe it would be in our best interests to avoid the Varden and attempt to negotiate a peace with the Empire."

***

Leonidas

"Spartans! Attack!" Leonidas orders his men to charge the guard. While he himself stands back since he is now unarmed having lost his sword and spear to the sewers.

[industrious]

Grabbing the shrunken Staff of Magius and the green marble with 'her' toes, Raistlin puts on the shirt, letting Arya's body's eyes linger for a brief moment on the Rider's shirtless torso. Oh, what would he give to see the elf's reaction! The mage climbs onto Saphira's saddle.

"I've learned some important information about what the wizard wanted, Eragon. We have to get it back to Nasuada immediately."

[doliest]

Lord Soth
"Thirty men? Smaller than expected, but the promise will be kept, M'lady." In his head, Soth starts altering his battle plans for what is too come to account for the small force. He turns to the men, "We will be heading out for Dargaard Keep; it is heavily fortified, but will not hold out forever. When we reach it we will be fortifying it further and I will instruct you on our defense plan." He then turns and starts marching for Dargaard.

[Cracklord]

Black Knight
Merlin nods. "Arthur gave you the role. Perhaps he thought he was getting rid of you, but i believe he did himself a favor, unknowingly perhaps. Do not prove me wrong, Percy. Trust your instincts, they're usually right. Is there anything else?"

Leonidas
The men are disorganized, not expecting an attack, but they line up quickly. The black robed man mutters something, and one of the Sprtans drops dead, his neck snapped. A spear takes him in the throat, and he dies gurgling, but the Imperial troops don't relent.

'Arya'
Eragon nods. "Did he... do anything to you" He asks, as Saphira shoots skywards. The massive creature reared up, then with a massive snap of it's wings launched them into the sky. The roar was almost deafening. Currents of air stroked their faces, as the ground slipped away beneath them. There was a sickening sense of vertigo, as the dragon began to plummet into a dive, but then it straightened and the feeling ceased. At first it was slow and unsteady, but then a rhythm began as they climbed higher still.

Lord Soth
Gannel approaches you. He was puffing on an enormous pipe, his hands folded in his belt. You recognize his type. He's a priest, and a powerful one.
the dwarf gives you a hooded look, as if to say, 'I don't trust you' then walks past, talking to the king in low murmurs.
Another man walks beside you. He's big and brawny, with a close cut beard, and a short-hafted hammer tucked in his belt. He reminds you of the boy. "I'm Roran." He says.

[industrious]

"Aside from leave me in the middle of the desert to die of starvation? No. But Eragon...you shouldn't have come. He knew you would; he wanted you to rescue me. He's occupied you while he remains free and at large."

[Cracklord]

'Arya'
Eragon nodded. "Don't worry. I'll kill him before I let him do anything to you." He says earnestly. "But you'll be glad to know, the time has finally come! We've drawn out Galbatorix, we'll ambush him and kill hm. Nuasda wants you there with me. And... I do to."