[FL] Fantasy Lynching: Blood alone turns the Wheels of History

[Executor]

Gratefully, the Myrmidons thanked Meric in turn as they filed past him into the bare and spartan tavern that he had led them too. Indeed, the interior of the inn would not have been out of place in harsh and barren Sparta. The floor and walls were unadorned stone, a simple fireplace held a warm fire at one end of the room, and four long wooden tables held most of the guests, who sat eating simple meals. Simplicity and sparseness seemed to be the defining features of Kuasta.

"Thank you Meric, here's something for your trouble" Patroclus said, handing the soldier a few heavy silver coins, stamped with the owl of Athena on one side and an image of Agamemnon's head in profile on the other. Achilles, presumptuous as usual, had simply gone into the inn without even thanking the man. It was a good thing that Achilles and Patroclus were friends, for the friendly Patroclus could often cover for Achilles' social faux pas.

Within the inn, the men pooled what silver and gold they had on them to buy a set of five rooms, ten men to a room. Crowded quarters, but better than sleeping on the cold ground in the open air. Having dined sparselessly on roasted pork and water, the Myrmidons retired to their rooms and made about the business of getting settled in for the night. Having refused a bed and instead given it to one of his men, Achilles hugged his spear to his chest as he sat in the corner of his room, wrapped in a heavy fur blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly, the weariness of a long day overcoming him.

After what seemed like an entirely too short rest, they awoke with a start to a pounding on the door.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Then you know the danger: you know that we need alliances to fight against the...wait, what Dark One?" Tavi says with a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. That ain't good, that ain't good...

"You aren't talking about the Vord, are you?"

"Not the Vord?" Max suddenly blurts out, introducing his face to his palm. "Bloody Crows..."

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

He raises an eyebrow at the man's expletive. Some things, it seemed, remained fairly constant no matter the society one lived in.

"I'm afraid I have no idea as to who the Vord are. And unless they will be attacking within the month, they will shortly be of little consequence. Yes...about a month. A little less than a month, at the most."

The end of the world in less than a month...at most. What was Alera getting itself into?

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
They look around the deserted city of Caraval and see the desolation.
"Nobody has graced this city in ages, I would say. Nature is already reclaiming it's child."
"Too bad. It looked like a fine city. One can only wonder what happened to make the lads move out..."
"We shouldn't spend too much time on this city. We need to find civilization soon so we can restock and get directions."
"Right. No sense dwelling on the past."
And with that the two stop for a bit to eat and drink before heading off past the city towards the East.

Tanis
He notices Tasslehoff's absence from his side and curses under his breath.
"Son of a Kender, where has he gone off to this time?"
And he sneaks around the halls they've passed, attempting to find his lost companion.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine calls Lan over, intrigued.
What could Elves have to do with Him? And a crown of leave?
She studies the texts further, trying to understand the information.

Mumm-Ra, The Ever Living
As the man leaves, Mumm-Ra's war general, Rataro, steps out of the shadows.
Are you really planning to go along with this?

Mumm-Ra cackles.
Of course I am. It is an excellent oppurtunity.
He steps over to the bubbling pool.
Now let us see what events are taking place in the world.
Images appear in the pool. Images of many people, from the awakening Earth King, to the lost Lord of the Myrmidons. The images change to others, and continue to do so.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Well...a month trumps a century. Perhaps you should tell us more about this 'Dark One'."

[darkblade]

Holo and Lawrence

Holo nods sagely, if it were not for her munching on an apple it would make her seem as wise as her title suggests. "Things are changing and not all for the better.

Lawrence shakes his head. "If things get too bad we are dropping this job. I'd like to keep my story as long and uneventful as possible."

***

Zasamal

Upon arriving he returns to the Varden base. To check in on his pawn, his failures in Urbaruen not forgotten.

[Draxx]

Queen Sonja
The queen sits on her throne, fingers tapping the armrests. It seems impossible that someone wearing that little clothing could appear to be regal, but she manages it. He hair falls to her hips in curling tresses of red, not the burnished copper but the red of spilled blood. Her full lips are pursed, her green eyes are narrowed, and she manages to give off an air of frustration.

Sonja is not patient. A woman of action, she deplores the wasting time of enduring the wait for her army to assemble.

Her commanders line up before her. She loses none of her sternness, she simply stands up and glowers. "We are going to war." She declares. "Not for D'Hara, I have no love for them and they have no love for me. We stand for ourselves, not them. And we are going to win."

Her tone does not allow the possibility of any other possibility.

Cohen
The elderly barbarian fought as you'd expect someone his age to fight. Slowly, carefully, and patiently. Yet it was clear he was carrying the fight. He was never where they wanted him o be, always managing to avoid their blows with the grim gate of arthritis and get his blade under their defenses with little or no trouble. Hard as it was to credit, he was winning.

He also fought dirty. Bony hands, knees and elbows lashed when he didn't have room to use his sword, and sent them staggering away or collapsing in their own private ball of agony.

Druss the Legend
There was a commotion ahead as Druss made his way to the gatehouse.

Druss walks over to a young man, more of a boy, and notes his face was pale beneath grime, and his eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. and puts a big, calloused hand on his shoulder, amiably.

"This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, laddie." He observes quietly.

"I'm not really a soldier..."

Druss grunted. "You looked a soldier on the wall the other day. Knocked down two ladders and gutted three men, then fought you way back to the guard house."

"You saw that?" He says, shocked and startled, a touch of pride worming it's way into his voice, knowing he had been seen by a living legend.

"Aye, I saw it. And they won't forget it either, you can count on that."

"They just... they just keep on coming."

Druss looked over the wall at the siege engines, closed his eyes, knowing that things would get much worse before they got better, then, with much deliberation, spat over the wall.

"'Course they do. They're animals. It's all they know how to do." He says, something dark and bitter crossing his face, gone in an instant. "When a man goes bad, he's like a wild dog. He needs to be put down, or stopped, there isn't a choice anymore. And these people are like that. They're not men, they're wolves on two legs. Locusts. They'll kill this country, pick it's corpse bare, then go elsewhere, and this will repeat itself."

He pushed the man roughly to the wall, and against the battlements, forcing hm to stare in the direction of the enemy camp. "What do you see?"

The man quaked. "So many... More then can be..."

"More then can be counted, aye. Every single one of those beasts is sitting out there in the mist, knees deep in the muck and cursing your name, loud enough that the elves in the forest on the other end of the continent can hear. And why? Because they want nothing more then to tear down these walls and and slaughter everything they can reach, but you will not let them!" As though unaware he'd attracted an audience, he powers on, drawing men to him irresistibly to listen, and as they heard they stood a little taller, held their weapons a little tighter. The man who was the subject stared at the warrior in shock.

"They outnumber us by some terrible fraction, they've taken cities, burned towns and driven everyone before them, and here you are, standing on the wall between them and the one thing they desire. Between them and your homes, your families and your lives. They rise from their stinking tents every day, and work themselves into a frenzy nothing on earth can stand against - and every day they slink back into those tents with their tails between their legs. The very thought of you burns them like a coal in their guts."

He stares at them "A man is at the mercy of nature. At the mercy of other men. At the mercy of life, and time, and in the end, one day he will die. But until that point, he is alive! And as long as there is breath in his body, he does not give up. No matter the adversity, he tightens his belt and rebuilds. Nature can take his health, his land, his work and his life, but it can't take from him his soul. And as long as he keeps on going, he is unbeatable. A man stands for what he believes in, and he never lets anybody rule him or his conscience. These men seek to take from you all you have achieved. Will you let them, or will you be men?"

Druss knew it was a lie. Every man had their breaking point, sooner or later, and courage had limits. Courage. Ha! If they had courage, they'd be farmers. He'd buried better men then him over the years, and knew that merely bravery and right on your side was not enough to win. Just the same, they needed the encouragement, and it was a good lie. A better one then the sad reality.

"Will you stand, soldier?"

[Cracklord]

Mattrim
"Yes, I heard. It looks like you're a victim of circumstance again." She's still smiling and enjoying your discomfort. She does that.
"Well, I suppose I better send you on your way. Come and visit me again before you leave, I have a kingdom to show off now and I'd love you to see it."
Then she pauses, and you can see it was always her intention to bring the conversation to this point. "Although I have to ask what brings you here. I am told that was still rages on the continent, and I cannot think how the Dragon can do without you."

Rand Al'Thor, Tavi
Murtagh starts, then holds out a hand. "It is quite an unexpected pleasure to meet the Dragon reborn." He says, his careful control dissipating slightly, demonstrating his uncertainty, then is silent at the exchange, his pale face going ashen his eyes sinking.
"Has it really come to that already?" He stares at Tavi, confused at how somebody could not know that. "He stands against the creator. He desires only to destroy, to unmake, to tear apart the world and in it, and rebuild it in his image or leave it ashes."

Druss the Legend
He swallows, then looks into your hard eyes, and nods. "I will sir."
There is a cheer, as men yell and bash their weapons on the stonework. It was everything a cheer should be, brazen and defiant, and confident, and you know these men will stand now, no matter what is thrown at them. You've done some good here.

Gengiz Cohen
The brawl has smashed most of the furniture in the bar, and the mob relents, drawing back and giving you some breathing room. A dozen or so men do not, too injured, or pretending to be that way and hoping you won't notice them.

Queen Sonja
Nemedia is a small nation, more of a city state then a country, and while it maintains a powerful army it is well and truly out of it's league in open warfare with the Imperial Order.
One of your generals, Kalmbach, steps forward. He's massive, mail barely covers his mighty thews and formidable muscles, and favors a long, flowing mustache in the fashion of the hill tribes. Like most of the warriors, he adores you, and like most he is disappointed in his advances.
"My queen, the Imperial Order is said to outnumber the sands on the shore. We would be destroyed."

Zasamal
Eragon had cleared a space in his room in the castle, and was now using it to practice the third level of Rimgar. The contortions of his body helped him focus his mind, as well as giving him something to keep occupied with. Boredom was beginning to take a toll on him, and he felt the need to move in some way. The constant monotony of the last week and a half was beginning to crush his spirit.
Since finding Saphira's egg, Eragon had known little peace. Periods of relative calm, such as his time in Du Weldevarden, were spent bettering himself and training, learning who he was and what he was capable of. The rest of his time had been spent either running from the Empire, traveling or fighting. Even then, his time had been filled by the minute.
Now, there was nothing expected of him, but that he remained here, demoted to symbol. The Varden needed his presence, but they didn't need him.
At first he had spent the time with Saphira, but gradually the Varden began to put demands on both of them that drew them apart. Eragon disliked the tasks he was set, mostly just appearing in minor negotiations and agreements with Lady Lorona and assorted nobles and authorities who run the city. They had discussed everything from providing lodgings and supplies for the Varden as they recuperated, to the changes in policy and administration now that it was a conquered city.
Initially Eragon was fascinated, in observing the victory of the Varden over the kings tyranny, and felt a sense of history and grave responsibility at each of these meetings. However, reality soon crushed these delusions, and he found that most of the meetings were negotiations and minor quibbling. He himself wasn't even called on to do much, simply to stand there and look impressive. And he had more important things to do then cater to their whims. He only endured it because it gave him an excuse to see Arya. In truth, it was beginning to remind him of the negotiations he'd endured in Tronjheim, when the dwarves had been electing their king.
Saphira herself was doing much worse. She did not like remaining static, and she had grown accustomed to a life of travel. The lack of a release for her pent up energy made her snappish and irritable. Eragon privately suspected, though made sure not to voice it through their bond, that this was also due to the reception she had received. Far from the deference and respect given to her by the elves, many of the people here treated her as little more then an exotic pet.
She had terrified a minor functionary half to death when he had led her towards the stables, and would most likely of finished the job if not restrained by Blödhgarm when he had suggested muzzling her. Since then she'd whiled away her time hunting and sleeping in the wild a few miles from the city, growing more irritable with each passing day. Eragon had tried to make time to visit her, but there simply weren't enough hours in the day, and while what he was doing didn't seem very important, it took up a lot of time. The separation was all the more noticeable in that for her to live so she had to remain just outside the range of their bond. Both of them were suffering.
A knock at his door shattered his concentration. Midway in the fourth stance, he almost lost his balance and collapsed. Righting himself he replaced his clothing and stretched, but made no further movements. If it was important, whoever it was would come the rest of the way to him.
The knocking did not relent. After a minute of the interminable pounding, Eragon gave an exasperated sigh and pushed the door open.

Moraine & Lan
References grow few. The elves is your only real lead, which you had best pray is enough. You have a month to find him. Only a month.

Tanis
You catch a glimpse of him, up the corridor pearing through a crack in the door.

Gaborn, Link
The elf stares at you, his lips twisting in a grimace of mad rage. "How... dare you?" He shudders, his muscles tensing, and he shakes. His eyes flash. "You, a human, think you can tell one of the arisen the will of nature. You who rape the land, who tear down all that is green and good and destroy all in your path. You think you can tell me that?"

Smaug
You are awoken. Your treasure is undisturbed, your empire as it was but for the erosion of unforgiving time. A man in black with white hair stands before you, and carries with him an authority that makes you stagger. "Awake." He says in a soft, crooning voice. "Awake, great beast of the dark earth. You have been forgotten, the world has moved on and, your splendor humbled. And yet, the world has need of dragons, and so I ask you, to once more dream of fire."

Lord Angmar
You awake, as do the other eight. The call has gone out, the darkness stirs again, and once more you ride at the wings of the shadow, and smother the land in darkness. The Dark One stirs.
And you, his servants, must act at his call.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"You seem restless child. That will not do." Zasmal says letting himself into the young dragon rider's room. In truth Eragon's restlessness served Zasamal quite well it meant he would more likely to be caught unprepared to handle the Empire and forced to open the vault.

"Tell me what has worn you so thin."

[Draxx]

Druss
"Good lad. Now hold fast, they'll attack any moment."

Sonja
"We will not fight them directly, or engage them in fair battle. We will bloody them, draw them and make them suffer until they barely can go on. We will strike in the night and be gone by dawn, and we will sap their strength until they are unable to go on. Then I will take this emperor's head, and set it on a pike at my throne." She promises darkly, folding her arms beneath the splendid swell of her bosom beneath the pliant mail.

[Viera Champion]

Moraine & Lan
Moraine sighs.
And where are we going to find elves?

[InyutheBeatIs]

Smaug

The man calls him out of a dream of his younger days. The days when he flew in the skies and rained terror upon the mortals. The days when he was without peer. The days where he saw his hoard grow beyond measure, the days when he first discovered the Arkenstone and added it to his collection. The days when everyone knew the name of Smaug the Magnificant, Smaug the Golden, Smaug the Destroyer.

Now, he has been asleep for far too long. He is awakened by this strange man. The first sign of life is an eye, his eyelids thrown open to reveal a globe of power, pride, and intellect staring straight at the man. Soon, the massive Fire-Drake moves, his powerful neck raised as he analyzes this new encounter. The man can probably feel Smaug's powerful gaze roaming, searching, picking apart even. Then, Smaug straightens and stands on his hoard, revealing himself in all of his glory as he stretches himself. Golden-red scales glisten on his body, muscles not atrophied a day in his sleep. He holds himself with pride, the pride of one of the greatest dragons of his time. His bat-like wings stretch out, and his battering-ram of a tail flicks in the air. Perhaps most interestingly, an apparently flawless breastplate of gemstones has embedded itself into his underbelly, eliminating the one weakness that has been the bane of most of his kind.

Smaug then lays back down into his bed of riches, looking almost like some kind of regal noble, as he looks at the man who woke him. He is intrigued that such a man is here. The way he holds himself implies he is some kind of king, or emperor. But still...this man certainly holds more authority than that. Whoever he is, this man has power.

Smaug's voice rumbles through the room. A voice of intrigue, curiosity, and forboding. "And who do I have to thank for waking me, dear friend?"

[Cracklord]

Legolas and Gimli
The town has been destroyed. Tools have been broken, houses have been torn apart, and crops have been sowed with salt. Bodies have been left by the side of the road to rot and fester, and anything of use, from furniture, to barrels, to animals have been either carried off or rendered equally unusable.
This town was not destroyed, but completely unmade beyond recovery.

Wander
As you leap, you catch a crack and manage to painfully pull yourself up, to grab a place where two stones meet. And then, disaster. The thing shifts, and your hand gets wedged between two rocks, which grind painfully, crushing the bones and breaking three fingers. Your hand is mutilated, almost beyond use, and you are trapped in place, dangling from your fingertips from the collosus.

Moraine & Lan
You need maps.

Zsasamael
"This… All this." Eragon said, making a broad gesture that seemed to encompass the last year of his life. "It's not right. I never wanted to spend my life resisting the Empire, but as events continued I got swept up in it, and now I can't stop." He sighed, a wave of negative feeling rolling of him.
"It's just…" Eragon began again, a complicated feeling he found it hard to articulate welling up in his chest, "I remember, before I joined the Varden, Murtagh killed a man, a slaver who wasn't fighting back, and I repudiated him for it." Eraagon said, realizing with a start he didn't even remember the slaver's name. It bothered him more then he cared to admit. "Now I've done the same thing. Sometimes there were even other options, but I just took the simplest way. And I hate it, I hate the fact I don't emphasize with ordinary people anymore. And I hate them for not understanding. I resent them for not understanding my sacrifices or what I do for them."
He sighs. "I am a Rider. I have been singled out of all humanity by Saphira, the last free dragon. Endowed with power beyond any mortal, and the responsibility of safe-guarding the entire world. I am stronger, tougher, more intelligent and wiser then any human can be, or will ever be. I can know a man's thoughts with a glance, and I know what they think of me, what they don't dare say to my face. I can summon powers they could not even understand, even the greatest sickness can be cured with a word, and yet they have the presumption to make demands of me, to force me to endure their ceaseless prattle. If I was to punch a wall, it would be damaged, not I, and yet they plot against me. Men are slaves to society, to culture, their lords, their destiny. I am not, servant only to the duties I choose to take on myself. It is not my place to follow rules or conduct, I decide for myself what is right and wrong.
And yet they make demands of me, try to coerce me into following their instructions, and into overseeing their short-sighted goals. Both as a rider, and by virtue of my blood I am far more then them, and yet they try to force me to their arbitrary moral codes. I am directly descended from the first King of this country! I am better then those of a lesser station, and it is my privilege and burden to act as I see fit!"

Smaug
"Call me... Galbatorix will do. It's a good name between us." He says, inclining his head. You see something dance in his eyes, something much like what you yourself feel, pride and fierce joy, and something terrible lurking beneath the surface. He's not just a human, though he has the shape of one.
"And I awoke you because I long to soar the skies and rain fire, to live again, rather then be trapped in a gilded cage. I awoke you because I do not desire to live in a world without dragons. And I awoke you because I wanted to. What more reason is there?"

Red Sonja
"As you command, my queen." He replies, clapping his arm to his chest, and remaining in place, knowing better then to disagree with you.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"That's bad." Tavi says, and turns to his friends. "Don't you think that's bad?"

"Pretty bad, Aleran." Kitai agrees.

"Crowbegottenly bad." Max adds.

"Extremely bad." Isana supplements.

"*Grunt*." Araris remarks.

"*Grrr*." Ambassador Varg contributes.

Tavi turns back to his allies. "In the interest of continuing to exist, I think we can help each other out, Rand Al'Thor. So how do we stop this 'Dark One' anyway?"

[Executor]

((No love for Achilles? Oh, and I didn't post this in the OOC thread because I didn't want to double post))

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
(Then this calls for different action from my favorite two heroes!)

"This... this is not good. Who would do this to a town?"
"The stench of Blood lies thick in this area. 'Tis a cursed village. It reminds me of the Paths of the Dead. Evil like this shouldn't be allowed to survive!"
"Calm down, Gimli. We've no idea who did this to these people. Although I would like to find out. I feel we were called here to stop this person."
"I feel the same, elf. Now let us get out of this cursed town before my beard stinks of this place."
And then they run out of the town to the East, looking for a good spot to rest. Far, far away from the death and desolation of the village behind them.

[Cracklord]

Gimli and Legolas
Felix sighed. His companion marched on ahead through the ruins of the town, stomping his bare feet on the stones as though he hated every one of them. Felix, his long suffering companion, trudged after him.
Long ago, he had been saved by the Dwarf, taken from beneath the hooves of the Emperor's cavalry, and, after getting fiercely drunk, had asked Gotrek his story. Felix had grown excited, and, as an aspiring poet, promised to follow the dwarf and record his death. That had been ten years ago, and Gotrek was still alive despite some heroic efforts to find something to do the job and finish him off. Felix was starting to believe that nothing could.
Gotrek turned and Felix sighed again. It wasn't the mowhawk dyed and held up by pig fat, the blunt features, the cauliflower ear, the broken teeth, the missing eye or the scars that made the dwarf so utterly repulsive. It was the combination of them all. Were he to have imagined the sort of friend he would have, he'd never have pictured Gotrek as one of them. And yet here they both were, and in a real way he was closer to the dwarf then he'd been to anyone, even his lovers.
"Wake up, manling. Someone is coming."
Felix was instantly alert, his posture tensing, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. He counted himself an excellent swordsman, though he was frequently outclassed by the manner of beasties the two encountered. Just the same, he had learned that when war came there was rarely a safer place to be then behind his companions axe.

Achiles
Four figures sat in the bar, playing Tonk. One was short, dark, wizened and shrunken, with a long black beard that stuck out in odd directions like twisted wire, and a face that seemed almost childishly vindictive. A leather patch covered one eye, and he'd gotten bald a long time ago. He was cheating as much as possible, badly, and still managing to lose almost every hand.
Another was just as shrunken and just as wrinkled, with a face that wasn't ugly, but didn't seem exactly human either, with a sloping brow, over developed jaw and deceptively brutish appearance. He played another hand, then smiles in a satisfied way like a cat that's got the cream when his companion starts swearing at it. Multi-colored flies buzz out of one nostril, spelling out the words 'One-Eye is a poof!"
He's not, if you were wondering. One-Eye is totally heterosexual, but the two never let up their bickering for a moment. You get used to it.
One-Eye snarled back and began waving his arms and howling, and birds appeared around Goblin's head, where they let out purple, diseased droppings. Goblin waved his arms, and the two witch doctors were at it again.
I sighed and put down my cards. So much for that. And I had a good hand too.
Raven moved over to me as their brawl continued. "See those men who came in before?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Look like soldiers. Real hard men. Why?"
Raven scoffed at that. I ignored it. Not everyone could be him. "We could do with fifty extra men."
"Don't look like they take orders to well. The tall one at the front has an attitude if I ever saw one, and the others aren't much better. We don't do charity cases." I nodded to him. "Present company excepted, of course."
He ignored the jibe, watching after them, then shrugged. "I figure I should ask them anyway. Should give me something to do until these two cool down."
With that he gets up, and walks to their room, where he pounds on the door a few times.

Tavi, Rand
He sits down, his manner returned and all the stronger for it. "He cannot be. You coan no more stop him then you can stop the turning of the seasons or the waves of the ocean. All you can do is resist, and set him back." He stares at Rand. "It is his destiny to seal him away, if he can, though perhaps he will fail and the world will end. Valar Morghulis, Valar Dohaeris."
The ancient words are chilling even in the pleasant air, and sound like a death knell, like some final nail driven in a coffin. Tavi has never heard the tongue, but Rand has. And those are words of power. Not magic, though they do have a magic of their own, but a different sort of power, and one infinitely more terrible. All men must die, all men must serve.
"This is too important to wait. I must tell my King." He stands up, kisses Min's hand in an old fashioned, courtly gesture, then walks to the door.

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"Why do you let them control you then?" Zasamal asks.

"Why have you not subject them to your rule? Why have you not taken the Varden as your personal army to do as you please as is your right?" Zasamal leads Eragon into the streets of town as he lectures the boy to show him the common people he does not feel connected to up close.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"So you're the only one who can seal him away. How can we help you with that?" Tavi asks Rand.

[InyutheBeatIs]

Wander

Wander screams in pain as his fingers are crushed. This is bad. After hanging from his fingers for a while, he tries to find a hold to help him lift himself up. Now the situation was getting desperate. He can only hope that it gets less desperate soon.

At the same time, he tries to grit through the pain and try to get close to the rune. At least as close to it as possible, given the situation.


Smaug

A smirk tugs at the corner of Smaug's mouth as he sees what is in "Galbatorix's" eyes. "Well now, 'Galbatorix', I do not see how I can help you, other than my existance."

He then looks to the sides, before looking dead into the eyes of this man. "Tell me, how long have I been asleep?"

[doliest]

Tass
Tass slittered in and out of view, trying to figure out where he could find something to that he and Tanis could wear. He was moving quickly and as quitely as possible, hoping to be ignored.

Kitaria
She smiles as she slides onto Skie's back. She liked riding Skie, through the air. It was...uplifting, in it's own way. Not to mention she enjoyed looking down at the ants below.

[The Shoveler]

Legolas and Gimli
The slow to a halt as they approach the first living things they've seen in their entire time spent in this backwards country.
Gimli shudders at the horrid appearance of his fellow Dwarf. Must be some hill dwarf or something of that sort. Mountain dwarves were much better kept in fashion and in appearance.
"Good day to you gentlemen! Have you any idea what country this is? We seem to have lost our way a bit back beyond the spiked mountain pass."
"Best be on guard, elf. They might be foe. The scrawny one is going for his sword."
"I thought as much. If anything happens I'm sure to be ready."
They stand at attention, ready to attack if the other side so much as moves their weapons towards the ready position.

[Cracklord]

Gotrek and Felix
Felix sighed. He could already see where this was going. Just the same, he takes his hand from his sword and does his best to seem nonthreatening.
In almost every world, dwarves and elves hold each other in contempt. The Old World is one of the worst examples of this. In ages past, hey actually went to war, and the elves were driven from the land by axe and by fire.
They still don't get on, to say the least.
Gotrek is a Slayer, a dwarf who has committed some great shame, so shaves their head and vows to seek their death and die in battle to expunge the shame. Explaining the dwarfs barbaric appearance, at least.
Gotrek took his massive runeaxe and ran his thumb along the blade until a bright bead of blood came, which he flicked at the two.
"Elf." He says menacingly, starting forward.

Tasselhoff, Tanis
You manage to creep away unnoticed, and are back in the corridor.

Smaug
"I do not know, I regret to tell you. But the shape of the world has changed, the continents have moved and the world has moved on. You will find it unfamiliar, but to your liking I expect."

Wander
The two rocks part for long enough for you to slip your damaged hand out before they crash together again. You are still, however, dangling from midway up it's torso, with only one hand to grip on.

Zasamal
"My burdens are enough already. greater then theirs, and less. But I will suffer their impudence no longer." He declares, nodding as though he'd reasoned this decision out through cold, hard logic. "Do you agree?"

[darkblade]

Zasamal

"You plan to leave?" Zasamal asks this did not sound good there were very few paths that this train of thought would take the boy that could lead to Zasamal's endgame it is time for some quick thinking.

[Draxx]

Sonja
"Good. We will speak of this again soon. For now, assemble our forces. You have two days."

Conan The Barbarian
Three tables down from the company to the right sat a man whose broad shoulders and sun browned skin seemed out of place in the luxurious surroundings. He seemed more a part of the mountains and hills of the world then anything that belonged here. His slightest movement spoke of steel-spring muscles knit to the keen intellect of a born swordsman. There was nothing deliberate or measured about his actions, either he was at rest, in which he was still as a statue, or he was in motion, with the slow deliberate movements of a lion stalking prey.

His garments were simple, well-cut cotton and a wool undershirt, both undyed. He wore no ring or ornaments, and his black square-cut mane was wild and untamed. He was not eating, but resting his chin on his fist, surveying the room with his smoldering blue eyes, like an ancient god passing judgment.

[industrious]

Rand Al'Thor

"I come here to unite the kingdoms of this land, at least until the Last Battle. For the more we are divided, the more we slaughter each other, the fewer will stand against the True Enemy."

The General, the Paladin, and the Fiend

They had chosen a direction at random, but kept to the established roads. Both Pellew and Cleon took turns driving the wagon, neither of them trusting Allecia with the reins. They didn't know if her nature would spook the horses. It wouldn't, but she wasn't going to tell them.

It's a petty little thing. I am not a bad person because of it.

Besides. She was reading a fascinating history text. Taken, apparently, from the ruins of the library of Jyggalag himself. It, along with a single other volume, was all that remained of that place; it had been destroyed by Sheogorath's forces, with the Madgod himself at their head.

[Colesign]

Tavi

"Well, we in Alera are united, if for no other reason than to repel the Vord when they return in a century." Tavi says.

He begins looking for some sort of map in the chamber, some reference point.

"So how many wars and rivalries are going on here in this land?"

[Executor]

Achilles

Sharp blue eyes opened at the knocking on the door. Achilles stared at the door as the knocking came again. All around him, the Myrmidons were beginning to stir. Suspicious, Achilles seized his xiphos and stood up. The xiphos was not an elegant weapon, it was a heavy, leaf-shaped, bronze butcher's blade, about two feet long, wrought of sharp bronze. The leaf shape made equally suited to the cut or the thrust, but the blade was heavy enough that a blow from the flat could do horrible things to a man's bones. With this terrible weapon in hand, Achilles came up to the door and slowly turned the handle.

Achilles threw the door open to find a man he didn't recognize standing there, arm raised as if he was about to knock again. Holding the xiphos up to the man's chest, Achilles narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

[Cracklord]

Zasamal
"For a time. A month perhaps. I have things to finish that I cannot afford to leave undone. You have proven a fine teacher, and a good friend. Fear not, I will return. Watch over them while I am gone."

Tavi
Murtagh shakes his head. "Unification will not be possible, I regret to tell you. You are looking at a nest of snakes. The Empire will support you, out of self interest if nothing else, but the rebels will not, if they haven't already taken The Dark Ones Salt I imagine they will soon. Then to the East another war is brewing, one that makes what happens here seem like quarreling children."

Achilles
Raven does not back down. The second his sees your sword, a knife appears in his hand as though summoned by magic, and his eyes harden. He looks like a career soldier, a man who lived on campaign and never allowed himself to get soft. Men like that were dangerous.
"Put that down unless you intend use it. And if you try I'll put you down. I'm here to talk." He doesn't lower the knife.
"But if you'd rather fight..."

Conan
Croaker sits down across the table across from you. He's forty, plain featured, and hard looking, with a white, haggard face that was rough with beard-stubble. A filthy cloak hung from his shoulders, a hood shadowed his face that looked as if it had been chiseled from obdurate stone by some savage god, and his eyes were sunken.
"Buy you a drink?" He asks in a surprisingly smooth and measured voice.

Traveling Bar Joke
The countryside is positively idyllic, beautiful rolling hills, farmland and clear skies, so that in lulls you into comfort, and makes thoughts of war all but impossible. It's too relaxed, too calm, too peaceful.