Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Comander.c on Sat Jul 30, 2016 1:38 pm

In the trubling cart, Jaque sat as he usually did, silently and towards the back.

In his hand wrapped in heavy cloth was his wife Annabelle's ring, still clotted with the dried blood of her and his daughter. The pragmatic part of his mind told him he should get it purified as soon as possible, especially after hearing of the plague. The rest faught over whether he should break down and cry or just let it all go.. like the others did.

He eyed off the prisoners. They were like the others that survived the raising of his village. Fearful, and near breaking point. The Geanrean's mind wandered back to the pilgrimage to north-watch. When they began there had been twenty survivors.

Jaque absently inspected his bow and remaining arrows.

Would the same happen of these survivors? Would he have to do as he did again.

These heroes could not be expected to understand the depths of wounds the necrophage left in its wake. Jaque remembered his old neighbor Clusoe. He remembered waking up in the night to screaming, and his neighbor covered in the blood of their own family. "They are safe now, Soon we will all be safe" the maddened fisherman had rambled, as he carved up the remains of his own wife, before taking to himself.

The others followed the descent into madness over the week's oddesy, or else were victims to the rampant psychopathy, until only Jaque remained. His resolve had hardened, the frail edges of his sanity burned away in the fires of his thirst for vengeance. He had come prepared to die at Northwatch with the rest, to rejoin his lost family.

He nooked an arrow, his hunters sights homing in on the distraught Elfish woman. Do i have the right to let her live to become one of 'them' he thought.

As he did so, the Elfish Ranger, Torvus lent in to hug his distraught mother.

Jaque saw the resolution of his erstwile leader, saw him be as a balm to the Elder Elfess' distress.

Jaque sheathed his arrow.

For the first time since the world started ending, Today's mission had seen to a victory. This strange pointy eard huntsman had lead them to a victory, to kill the unkillable, to strike back, to save people and to Win.

Jaque and the other's in Northwatch had expected to feel a measure of salvation from the Wardens, But locked away in their part of the Fortress as they were, it was instead this unlikely mixed band of warriors that had kindled a measure of hope. They acted with conviction, stressed, to be sure. but not afraid.

In the war hall, they spoke of plans and strategy's not striving to survive another night, but seeking victory as if it was a foregone conclusion, and Inevitability they had simply not found the key to yet.

In the preasance of the short bearded one, Jaque had felt his fear ebb, and that of his comrades. The Elf had led them into the teeth of the enemy as if they were hunting mortal prey. The Ghenrean had also heard of the others of this war-band, the way they acted as one with the people, none of the Noblity of the Wardens to be sure, But somehow that just made the Elf and his band more relateable.

The light knew, Jaque could relate to Torvus and his Mother right now.

Jaque came to Northwatch to Die in defiance of the foe that took everything from him. But now, he saw a new opportunity. To live, and to spend survive to bring every ounce of pain against those that wronged him.

He could see their dreams come crashing down, take a part in taking everything from them. Jaque would refuse to die until the Necrophage felt their life's work come crashing down. He would live to see them feel his anguish. For Annabelle.

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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Cowboy on Mon Aug 01, 2016 12:27 pm

It was dark and the earth all around continued to tremble. Torvus lay on prone, covered in dust, partially covered in the stocks housed in this section of the underground supply cache network. He had little room and in the unstoppable force of the explosion, Torvus had been parted with his bow. A perceived extension of him to those who knew him well enough. Torvus took thanks for his ability to see unhindered in darkness. He looked around to find the sturdy shelves and casings of this cache locker had been forced into a position that formed a cavity slightly bigger than the cage he had liberated his mother from. His refuge was tight and awkward, dust was thick in the air and draped in layers over the trapped hunter. Cautiously he tested the integrity of his cage and recoiled as the entirety of Honour Wall seemed to tremble in response. After several tense moments, the shifting tons over head ceased, finding new balance and Torvus relaxed himself appealing to his pragmatic nature: How was he going to get out of this one.

****************************************************************************

The wall shook again, the rubble and earth shifting all around them. The Warden stood over Eadwine who he had dragged to a section piled with creates, in hopes it would provide some semblance of protection. The Disciples were here, one to be sure, but there was no telling how many cultist roaches crawled about in this dark dwelling. The Warden cautiously brandished the last lantern against the darkness. The light battling against the clouds of dust and falling debris caused by the explosion that had trapped them in there section of the cache network. The disabled Alchemist began to come to. The effects of the Bright Orb were beginning to subside, though its coupling with a hangover had provoked a near crippling after effect, stifling clear though and awareness.

The Warden and Eadwine shared a brief conversation, before the Warden asked, “How long does the Lucidium last”.

At that moment, the sound of a crossbow mechanism released followed almost immediately by the sound of a bolt colliding with metal and glass. The lantern like the first was damaged, casting the small two investigators into complete darkness.

******************************************************************************

The detonation was impressive; the wave of force and the thunderous sound was more than enough to violently yank Merick into consciousness. The explosions seemed to cascade and erupt forth from beneath Honour. Cannon balls, stone, earth and debris showered down over Northwatch. Dozens of labourers and fighting men and women caught fatally in the explosion and many others wounded. Merick hung from the wall, forced to contemplate the most recent events and to witness what was likely the finale of this building crescendo. Three of the four wardens guarding Merick abandoned their mark, heading to the silver hall. Merick watch below as soldiers, and militia swarmed to the site of the explosion as labourers began to form task groups. It was chaos, there was no better word for it.

******************************************************************************

Adrysse looked on as the explosions steadily became less frequent, dwindling in power: dimming from terrifying roars to deep trembling rumbles. She did not want to waste time, she needed to report to Sir Belemy. The Hospice Matron had quite rightly explained moving the sick and wounded in the deteriorating state that they were in would be detrimental to the provision of aid and a gross miss use of time and resources that would be better served towards seeking out an effective remedy or even a cure. Adrysse felt this response was considered and justified and moved to report her findings.

Labourers and soldiers rushed by her as she moved up the road of Honour. Smoke and dust clouded the air making it difficult to see further than a few paces a head of her. There was so much yelling: Calls of pain, calls for direction, calls for aid, calls for equipment. She past a group of soldiers who were running to the lower tier, over hearing them say the Lords agents were in the explosion and must be found. Adrysse realised, Torvus, Eadwine: Where they caught in this?

****************************** White Orchid ********************************

The snowfall had ceased and the cold ebbed to a natural state. The wardens circled around and formed a perimeter around the bell. The Town was still consumed in a deep layer of snow, now saturated inches deep with a contrast of rich velvet red blood. The town square in which they rallied decorated with the disturbing forms of maliciously posed cultists, brandishing cruel weapons and disturbing trophies of their fallen foes.

The bell’s presence was unnatural and despite its stillness it seemed to quietly beckon the unseen with soundless calls. The site was a certainly rip with the influence of evil. Desenia stepped forward, retrieving various items from her bag and began the task of nullifying the bell’s enchantment.

After several quiet minutes, listening to the Sinti’s chanting and the ominous icy winds that seemed to provoke thoughts of foreboding doom the bell’s presence seemed to recede. While it did little to change the grim horror of their surroundings, it did bring them closer to leaving. As Desenia stepped back from the bell pleased with her work, Throgrim stepped forward.

The dwarf punctuated the successful completion of their mission by striking the now mundane bell with Hambar’s Fist. The bell buckled against its unnatural might. Collapsing under its force like a rip melon beneath an anvils hammer.

“Well then… they defiantly won’t be ringing this bell again any time soon.” Desenia stated with confidence and pride admiring her combined efforts with the Thorgrim’s. “Now, give me some time to collect the Esilite from the ice elementals and we can go.”

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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Popdart5 on Tue Aug 02, 2016 5:52 pm

"Holy shit!"

Merick could not do anything but watch as the plumes of dust smothered the buildings of the lower level of Northwatch. The sound of crashing stonework and other debris had mostly faded at this point but the shouts and screams quickly filled the silence. As the wind picked up and swirled the dust away into the sky, the full extent of the devastation was revealed. It was like the wall itself had been torn open by the explosion, like how dead pigs tended to swell and burst if left for too long. The top part of the wall of Honour was surprisingly still intact but Merick could see a few pieces of stone from the battlements crumple and crash to the ground.

He hadn't been awake when the explosion had happened. Merick remembered Thorgrim talking to him earlier in the day and Eadwine and Torvus had visited at some point. He passed out some time after that but he wasn't sure when. Merick craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the sun but his muscles ached and groaned with every movement. It seemed to be around the middle of the day, although that didn't really help because it had been the middle of the day for the last few hours or however long Merick had been up here. Being hung out as punishment really sucked compared to being in a cell. At least he could while away the time just sitting and relaxing in a cell unlike hanging which managed to torment his entire body simultaneously. Bloody hell, even a gibbet would have been better.

At least he could watch the people down below, although that small pastime had been ruined by that explosion. Merick thought back to what he'd told Eadwine and Torvus about the cluster orbs he had stolen and tried to think if that one crate would be enough to cause such a large explosion. It was sort of close to where he'd hidden the crate but he didn't think even twenty-five cluster orbs would be enough to blow that big of a hole. If that was enough though...

Merick was suddenly very glad that he hadn't dropped the crate.
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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Popdart5 on Mon Aug 08, 2016 1:27 pm

The wind picked up and Merick shivered in his position on the wall of Courage. He felt his head begin to droop as his exhaustion made itself known again. He tried to shake off his tiredness and focus on the workings on the men and women down below. Soldiers, militia, labourers, and even a few Wardens were working together to clear the debris and try and sort something out from the chaos. Cries and shouts rang out which was soon followed by frantic hauling as they managed to find people trapped beneath the rubble. Others wailed as bodies, probably of family or friends, were found crushed or pasted into red smears in the dirt. They were slowly making their way towards the base of Honour wall but there was a lot to clear from the explosion.

Merick's head fell forward again and he jerked back to stay awake. He needed something to do otherwise he'd just fall asleep again. His manacles were still tightly shackled to the wall and he'd already tried to ease the chain around his waist to give him some relief but to no avail. He called out to one of the silver-plated jerks up above for some help but his cries were ignored. Merick continued calling out, trying to get their attention, until eventually a wooden pole descended down and smacked him in the head.

"Be quiet down there," the Warden ordered as he loomed over the battlement holding the sharp end of a spear. His voice was sharp and precise; he was likely used to telling people what to do. "No one has time for your bleating cries."

"Bloody hell, that hurt you prick!" Merick swore at the helmeted d@#kweed. "I bet you couldn't take a swing at me if we were standing toe to toe. Yeah, I bet you're too chickenshit to take a - OW! F@#k off with the stick!"

"Shut up! No one cares about you or what you say. You're just a thief and a traitor that deserves to die for what you did."

"Whoa hold up there." Merick's face still stung from the wooden haft of the spear but he tried to hold back his anger from his words. "Now I may be a thief, a thug, a git, and maybe even a bit of a lying scumbag but I am not a traitor."

Merick couldn't see clearly from this angle but it almost looked like the Warden's face scrunched up in disgust. It was hard to tell what with the helmet and all but there was a definite sour look around his jaw. "You deny your crimes even after confessing to your companions? Even someone as stupid as you should see what devastation your crimes have caused."

"Now hang on," Merick tried to think quickly about what to say next. The wooden end of the spear still loomed perilously close. "I confessed to stealing a crate of orbs. That's all I did. I had no part in blowing up the wall or whatever the f@#k happened."

"Deceit and lies from a knave with no honour. You're guilty of aiding our enemies steal weapons from our supplies and your assault on the Marshal merely confirms your guilt. Don't try to deny your role in this."

"Hey now, that b@#$h got what - OW! F@#k off already with the spear!" Merick tried to headbutt the spear away from him but only succeeded in straining his neck. Bloody manacles. "What I was gonna say was that me tripping that woman was completely separate. I wouldn't have done it if she hadn't been such a rude c-- HA! Missed me you pr-- OW! Bloody f@#king hell!"

He blinked his eyes a couple of times and tested his jaw as that last hit caught him square over the face. A bit of blood trickled from his nose. "Anyway," Merick tried to continue without getting hit by the spear again. He would have to watch his words. "What I did didn't make a difference. There were six other guys when we stole the crates so they would have done it even if I wasn't there. I didn't even know anything about the explosion. You can't punish me for stuff I didn't even do."

"You're still guilty of helping them," the Warden sternly responded. "Of course we can punish you."

"Well shit."
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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Popdart5 on Mon Aug 15, 2016 1:19 pm

Silence graced the wall of Courage, much to the relief of the Silver Warden who stood watch over the prisoner. Ronnel Deschamps had grown increasingly more irritable as the degenerate continued to rattle on despite the punishment for doing so. The Warden wiped away the blood that had smeared the base of his spear before bringing it to rest on the battlement. The destruction below had relented from its frenetic chaos and people of all stripes were working together to clear the debris, although it was slow work. Even from this high up, Ronnel could hear the Marshal's voice cutting above the noise and instilling a sense of order and regimen. The Wardens were quick to fall in line; the soldiers and militia were less so inclined but were quickly reminded of the punishment for failure by her gesture towards the hanging man.

"Love you too bitch! OW!" Ronnel moved quickly to silence the prisoner but only succeeded in eliciting an avalanche of curses. One more hit should shut him up.

"Alright, alright, I get it," the prisoner winced. "You tinpots can't take a joke at all."

"Be silent." Ronnel would love nothing more than to just end this man's loathsome existence but that was not his decision to make. Marshal Adeline had, for whatever reason, chosen to spare him from execution. Or perhaps, as Ronnel hoped, she had put him aside to savour his punishment at another time, much like a fine wine.

The prisoner tried to get his attention again and rapidly resorted into spewing crude affronts when Ronnel refused to respond. May the Light grant me strength in this time of trials. Unfortunately Ronnel could only withstand such horrid language for so long before he loomed over the battlement again with his spear at the ready.

"Are you a glutton for punishment you miserable wretch or are you just incapable of shutting up?"

"I'm not a fan of the stick if that's what you're saying." Ronnel let the end of the spear waver above the prisoner's head. "I'm just really bored and wanted to talk to you."

A small chuckle escaped Ronnel's lips and he shook his head in disbelief. "Boredom is the least of your worries. You should be thankful you're not dead."

"Why should I be? Should I be all 'Gee thanks Miss Marshal for not cutting my head off. I really loved hanging from my wrists for most of the day'?"

Ronnel scowled and the spear drifted closer to the prisoner. "You should be grateful or at least respectful. Your death can still be arranged."

"Was that supposed to be scary?" the prisoner laughed. "If I was afraid of death then I would never have left home. Compared to some of the monsters I've seen, you're cute and cuddly."

"You think you've seen monsters?" Ronnel chimed back. "We Wardens face horrors you couldn't even comprehend."

"So your monster slaying d@#k is bigger than my monster slaying d@#k. Who bloody cares? Ow! F@#k you, I didn't even do anything."

"You are one of the most repugnant people that I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. I hope the Marshal chooses a suitable punishment for your crimes." Ronnel pulled up his spear and stepped back from the battlement. He needed to clear his head and the air around that miscreant was filled with his distasteful presence. Duty called however and he needed to remain at watch over the prisoner, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

"You think I'm a terrible person, is that right?" the prisoner called out. "I mean, I'm scum but I've seen some downright evil people and I don't even hold a candle to them. Heck, the worst person in the world is in Van'tese and I'm barely a fly compared to him."

"And who might that be?" Ronnel couldn't help but be amused at the prisoner's feeble attempt to make himself appear less like scum. It seemed even scum had standards.

"Only the terror of all them old stories, Mannah Roth the Black Elf. Just rode right in and killed a whole bunch of people, including the Chevalier. From what I've heard, he has demon magic and a dragon and all sorts of evil stuff."

"Of course he is," Ronnel responded sarcastically. So while the prisoner was a liar, he wasn't even a very good one. Mannah Roth, the same fel being that terrorised the kingdom of Ghenrael centuries ago, returning to haunt the living? The idea was just too absurd.

"I swear it's true though! I ain't lying about this!"

"Whatever you say."
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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Popdart5 on Mon Aug 22, 2016 6:06 pm

Merick had spent the past few minutes fuming and muttering curses under his breath about the Warden. Then again, he probably shouldn't be surprised that the guard didn't believe. His nan had always said that lying would never get him anywhere and she'd try to beat that lesson into him a few times. Lying came easily to him and sometimes he'd just lie about useless things, like that time that he shoved Henry off the pier because he'd stolen one of his shoes when he was ten. Henry hadn't actually stolen it; Merick had managed to lose it somewhere and chose to pick on Sticky Hands Henry so that he wouldn't get in trouble. Merick copped the iron ladle for that porky.

Even though Merick lied like a dock whore f@#ked (badly), it stung when someone didn't believe him when he was telling the truth. Maybe he needed to try a different angle when convincing people of the truth or 'the truth' at certain times. Well he certainly needed to get better at it or else he was going to be imprisoned or worse for those cluster orbs.

"Hey," Merick called out to the Warden. "What do you think I should do to get out of this problem?"

The silver gaoler poked out from the battlements above where Merick hung from the wall and stared at him for a moment. "Why do you think I would tell you something like that? You're the criminal, not me."

"Well, yeah, but you're a Warden so I figured you'd know something or seen something about other crooks getting in these situations. What's the go? Do I pay some silver, do some time, and then go free?"

"Your crime is treason," the Warden bluntly stated. "The punishment will be far more severe than mere coin. Even if it was, it would be far more than you have."

"Then what?"

"Have you tried being remorseful?"

Merick paused. "I'm not sure what that word means."

An agitated sigh escaped the Warden's lips. "It means you regret what you did, that you're sorry for your crimes, and you want to repent. But it also involves admitting that you were the criminal, which you seem to be incapable of doing."

"And what do I get for being sorry?" Merick ignored the spite that dripped from the Warden's words.

"By the grace of the Marshal and the Commander, your punishment may be lessened."

"Alright then. I'm sorry for, unknowingly mind you, helping some other scumbags in blowing up part of Northwatch by stealing those cluster orbs. I didn't know what they were up to but, if I had known, which I didn't, I wouldn't have helped them at all."

The wind whistled along the top of Courage wall and it almost seemed to snatch the Warden's frustration right out of the air. Almost.

"You really are a vile man. You'd be willing to sell out your fellow traitors at the chance of a lighter sentence?"

"Well," Merick said, "I'm more of an honour among thieves kinda guy. I've got no honour with murderers or whatever the hell those other guys were. I'll sell them out to save my skin, no problem."

"Very well then. Assuming your remorse is genuine," the Warden continued, "which I highly doubt, you have yet to repent for your other crime."

"Which one was that?"

"You struck a Marshal of the Silver Wardens. That is a very serious offence of which your guilt is unquestionable."

Merick turned it over in his head. Would it be better to tell the truth or lie about this? The choice was simple; he always was a terrible liar.

"Why should I apologise for that? I'd do it again in a heartbeat if she continues being a bitch to me. She needed to be put in her place like the smarmy c@#t she is. Hey now, hold up! You don't need to bring down the stick again! Come on, I wasn't even - OW! Motherf - OW!"

The stream of curses that erupted from Merick's mouth slowed to a trickle as the beating knocked him back into merciful unconsciousness.
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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Comander.c on Mon Aug 29, 2016 11:15 pm

Thorgrim nodded to the Scinti, before barking out orders to the Wardens. “Alright Warden’s, You did ye order proud but the mission is not done yet! May, Henri, Sentry Duty, Eye’s open.” Thorgrim thought it best not to overtax the two wounded Wardens, They seemed to not be mortally wounded at least. Not that it was easy to tell when everything was covered in a layer of blood. May seemed the worst off, But had piqued up once her horse trotted back. Henri tho may lose some toes. Colour was returning to his face, But it had been near blue and the boy was still rather stiff atop his horse. Thorgrim took note to give the boy a sip from his flask once they were safe and away from this place, that should put some fire back in his step.

“Pytre, Albert, Grab a weapon and Get Smashin’! Let’s not leave any intact bodies to be raised. And while yer at it, Gather up their knives. I doubt we be findin the ritual knife from beneath all this snow, but let’s not rest to chance, ey?”

Thorgrim took a moment to assert each knew what they were doing, It felt Damned good to be back amongst trained soldiers again. He admired much of his usual companions, only one among those had any kind of discipline in the field. “But first, Take a minute, Check yourselves and each other. Whoever has the med’kit get it out but don't Tarry! We move out within the hour!” The dwarf checked himself, prodding his mail where the ice fiend hit him. It was tender, and bled a little between his chain, but wasn’t severe enough to worry about for now.

As the group set about collecting their fallen gear and tending to the more wounded members he made his way back to the remains of the Bell. “We’ll be taking parts of this back with us, And ditching it in the forrest, river, gullies, or whatever comes to hand. Let’s not risk to chance they can reforge the Bell.” The dwarf spoke his plan aloud, And set about breaking down the bell into more manageable pieces. He ran his hand over the cast iron, tapping it gently now and then and listening. He soon found every major fault in the bell, and set about reducing it into large shards.

In the meantime the wardens wasted no time warming themselves up with the effort of breaking the array of statuesque frozen cultists, reducing them to similar but altogether more crimson piles in the blood drenched snow.

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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

Post by Comander.c on Tue Sep 06, 2016 11:41 pm

The war band took their time getting back to the hidden exit to cowards reach. They took a circuitous path thru Forrest and River.

They had deposited the remains of the diabolical bell along the way, Confidant that the shard's were lost to the civilized world.

Tarrying had not been without cost however. The snow's had picked up, And were reaching blizzard levels on this side of the mountain. Thorgrim mumbled payers of thanks to the ancestors, that they had already made the Forrest's edge, and were protected from the worst of it. Still, going was slow.

The whole situation invoked one of the dwarfs customary flashbacks. Not the usual reminder of trauma, But  rather a recollection of friends and times long past when Thorgrim had his place in the world...

#####################


The snow's were viscous. A mighty blizzard blew down from the mountain, with seeming intent of keeping the war party from entering the ancient thane's secret entrance.

"We should turn back, the horses won't last much longer." Said an impassive feminine voice. The Magi Darlania was the only one who seemed un-phased by the weather, Her magic's protecting her from the worst of it. Her twin brother, Hellfurious, however was a might more belligerent towards the cold. "Who thought this was a good idea anyway??"

The two Ulfen siblings were the only humans in the force, representing their people's interest in the mission. The rest of the Dwarf's forming the group ranged somewhere in between the two in resistance.

Thorgrim had been a lot younger then. He had only just been given leadership of the Ironbreaker's, a force of Dwarfish shield-warriors. The best in clan Crystalforge, tho since the clan had merged armies with the Thunderforge they found themselves with much greater competition.

Still, for a time they had the honor of being the Queens-guard, and their victories had them hand chosen for this mission. That it would see them away from his beloved Queen Aranna for the coming year was lamentable, But the Saga they would write! A year was a short time for a Dwarf, So Thorgrim looked to the mission at hand.

And right now that meant saying something encouraging. Despite his skill, Thorgrim was still the youngest Dwarf there, and felt he had to try twice as hard to earn the respect of his peers. "No, The whole army' advances under the cover of this! Why should we be spared? Besides! It will be warm in the Thane. At least until we get there.." There were a few chuckles at his last remark from the dwarf's.

The plan was simple, but had been hard to come by. Runekeeper Asgar had said it was the will of the Ancestors, But other's called it dumb luck. One of Asgar's apprentices, a dwarf Thorgrim did not yet know named Kaspar, had stumbled upon reference to the secret back entrance to the thane in the last keep they took. It had lead to full schematics of the upper reaches.

Thorgrim himself was proud to boast his part in forming the plan. While the Armies of the Dwarves advanced relentlessly under cover of the blizzard 'predicted' by the aloof band of Eldarid, a small band of Dwarf tunnel fighter's, Led by members of the Dwarves, Men and Elve's, would infiltrate the back entrance. Once in, They would sabotage and open the great wind tunnels that were crafted into the peak of the Thane. The cold of the Blizzard would seep into the mountain, Something which the beastmen were ill equipped to handle.

From there the war-party had a week to get down to the main gate, hopefully unseen, and open the way for the Invading army. The Dwarfs would make the Vanguard, and the Ulfen would follow thru once a beached was claimed.

That was the plan anyway.

"Face it Lad, The Elder is lost. No way he found his way alone in this weather!" one of the Dwarf's, Bjorn shouted over the wind.

The two humans and Thorgrim glanced at each-other, a silent council passing between them. The Magi simply shrugged impassively, while the Warrior Twin's shoulders sagged expressively in a show sarcastic deference.

"He's a mystic Bastard, and no doubt" Thorgrim began "But he ain't never let us down yet. We keep going, And he Will find us."

"Always does" Darlania added. The other Dwarf's did not seem so sure, But Thorgrim and the Twin's had been on many missions with the Eldarid over the years of War, and so they belligerently pushed onward. After all, No dwarf would be shown up by any manling.

#####################

Thorgrim looked up and saw Cowards Reach come into view. Almost there now. He thought to himself.

#####################


Seeming to Manifest from the snow, the Tall figure walked. "Shantoebal! Where the bloody hell have you been?" Thorgrim cried out.

"I have found the Way. Follow" Was all the Noble figure said, his voice seeming to care little for the wind.


#####################

"Where are you now?" Thorgrim out loud, without realizing. The other's were all long gone now. Thorgrim got to know Kaspar after his awakening, And had learned that of all the people the dwarf had called friend, only Hambar and Shantoebal were still alive.

Hambar is gone now the Dwarf thought bitterly, gripping his Warhammer tight.

It had been of little surprise to the current Rune Keeper that Thorgrim had wandered off at Shantoe's missive.

"Where is who?" inquired Desene intrusively.

"Hmm, what?" the Dwarf replied.

"where are you now, you just said. To who?"

"Ohh... And old friend. What may be our last remaining Ace in this War, and the one that put me on the path i walk, and introduced me to the priestess. He has been missing for some time, which is a poor omen in these dark times. But I've known him to always appear right when he needs to. The Night is Dawning on this land, And we could use some extra Aces." Thorgrim looked at his War-hammer meaningfully "And we are running out of Heroes."

The Warband reached the entrance to Coward's reach, swiftly riding inside. "Take an hour to eat, and Drink, Then we ride for the Keep" the Dwarf ordered once they had gotten in and shaken off the snow. The warden's dismounted and finally took a moment to breath and take stock.

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Re: Shadows in War: A Lore of Darkness Chronicle

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