((Apologies for the wait.))
((NPC Post))
The worm dragged itself forward, fending off rocks when it could roaring in pain and anger when they connected in sensitive areas. Though the creature was blind, it's senses were attuned to the darkness, and it knew exactly where Krevster was. It could sense heat and movement, both through airwaves and through the ground. However, it was having a hard time keeping track of Morsereg.
One particularly large rock crashed down on the far side of the worm. The worm clung to the ground as it tried to keep from losing ground in it's battle against the rushing water thundering into the deeps below. A large groan suddenly came from the ground around the worm.
With sudden comprehension, the worm knew what was going to happen. A grinding came from below it, loud enough to hear above even the rushing water. It didn't quit, but continued to grow as the worm frantically threw itself forward, racing as best it could against the pull of the water against it's back end.
With a sudden, splintering crack that echoed from wall to wall in the cavern, the rock directly beneath the worm, where it had slammed repeatedly in it's attempts to kill Krevster and Morsereg, crumbled away.
Rocks bounced from wall to wall in the narrow hole leading into the depths. The worm, clinging with only the front fifth of it's massive body on the floor, dangled from it's tenuous hold. It made no attempt at trying to drag itself up, but instead began searching for leg holds with the rest of it's body. It could climb straight up walls, for it had done so before, but this was different.
The sides of the hole into the depths were slick with the mist from the waterfall, and there were to creatures above it that it knew were intent on finishing it off.
Cemetary Crypt
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Shadowsong
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Hopefully that would count as a distraction.
Patiently, Darkheart began making progress towards the beast. While he did not doubt that he was in range of it's senses, he hoped that it could not spare the attention to keep track of him. Closing cautiously, he dropped into a crouch, making himself a smaller target for a stray missile, and in case he needed to guard against the lashing limbs.
Each step was tentative, distrusting the stability of the rock. Equal wariness was owed to the hail of rubble. Those attacks settled a decision, to attack from the same side as before. Although that side was the least weakened and cracked from the barrage, the beast provided fine cover, allowing Darkheart to wield his sword undisturbed by flying boulders.
Roughly eighteen foot of beast clung onto what remained on the ledge, offering some room to work with. Respectful distance was offered to the sheer drop, as there was severe danger of mishap in this situation. More distance from the front would have been preferable, ideally beyond the reach of the tentacles, but no such thing was on offer without falling off the ledge, an option even less attractive than doing battle with those infernal limbs.
Now he would find out how much attention had been spared for him, if the worm would make an attack now that he was within range.
Patiently, Darkheart began making progress towards the beast. While he did not doubt that he was in range of it's senses, he hoped that it could not spare the attention to keep track of him. Closing cautiously, he dropped into a crouch, making himself a smaller target for a stray missile, and in case he needed to guard against the lashing limbs.
Each step was tentative, distrusting the stability of the rock. Equal wariness was owed to the hail of rubble. Those attacks settled a decision, to attack from the same side as before. Although that side was the least weakened and cracked from the barrage, the beast provided fine cover, allowing Darkheart to wield his sword undisturbed by flying boulders.
Roughly eighteen foot of beast clung onto what remained on the ledge, offering some room to work with. Respectful distance was offered to the sheer drop, as there was severe danger of mishap in this situation. More distance from the front would have been preferable, ideally beyond the reach of the tentacles, but no such thing was on offer without falling off the ledge, an option even less attractive than doing battle with those infernal limbs.
Now he would find out how much attention had been spared for him, if the worm would make an attack now that he was within range.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
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Morsereg Dindaedel
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- Race: Vampire
There! Victory was in within their reach. All that had to be done now was to deal the final blows to the worm, and be rid of it once and for all. He had ceased throwing rubble for a second when the worm began to fall, but continued his assault from various angles.
How could they finish this? No doubt, Darkheart had closed in on the worm, but the rubble seemed to be doing little more than aggrivating the beast. Was there anything else he could do? His eyes tossed around in the dark, and he once again saw Darkheart's torch. He had an idea...
He dropped the rubble in his hand and ripped off the sleeves of his shirt, forming them into balls, and did the same for the bottom of his pant legs from the knee down. He had four balls of cloth in his hands as he ran towards Krevster, realizing that the beast would have been too used to the rubble by now and would probably have focused mainly on Krevster.
He paused next to Darkheart only long enough to dip each ball into the flame of his torch, and quickly tossed each one of the four at the worm, spacing enough time inbetween so that each made a nice burning impact but not long enough so that the flames would engulf him and that he would not be of any more use to Darkheart.
As the last one flew, he could only hope it would help.
How could they finish this? No doubt, Darkheart had closed in on the worm, but the rubble seemed to be doing little more than aggrivating the beast. Was there anything else he could do? His eyes tossed around in the dark, and he once again saw Darkheart's torch. He had an idea...
He dropped the rubble in his hand and ripped off the sleeves of his shirt, forming them into balls, and did the same for the bottom of his pant legs from the knee down. He had four balls of cloth in his hands as he ran towards Krevster, realizing that the beast would have been too used to the rubble by now and would probably have focused mainly on Krevster.
He paused next to Darkheart only long enough to dip each ball into the flame of his torch, and quickly tossed each one of the four at the worm, spacing enough time inbetween so that each made a nice burning impact but not long enough so that the flames would engulf him and that he would not be of any more use to Darkheart.
As the last one flew, he could only hope it would help.
((NPC Post))
The last of the rubble hit it, though it continued to expect more. It's bottom end waved back and forth over a drop of thousands of feet, attempting to get a hold on the spray-slippery rocks of a near vertical surface.
The worm knew Krevster was close, and it could only occasionally sense the other. Two of it's tentacles slipped over as the ground beneath it continued to groan softly, waving back and forth slowly in the air closest to Krevster, while the other four, damaged though they were, continued to wait on the expected barrage of rubble and boulders.
Suddenly there were several heat sources hitting it and bouncing off it, landing directly close to it. It's skin was too thick to burn, and it wasn't flammable, but the burning balls of cloth had a secondary affect. Confusion reigned in the creature's mind. Unsure of the new sources, it used all it's senses to focus on them, trying to decide what new manner of attack this was. It thought it should recognize the sources, but pain dulled it's mind and senses.
For several long moments, the creature tried to read these new sources. It was tense, and obviously preoccupied, it's maw slowly opening and closing, it's tentacles each hovering warily over a burning cloth. For those moments, the creature was effectively vulnerable. The worm, realizing this, finally decided to be rid of these new heat sources as quickly as possible. With that thought, it's tentacles suddenly sprang into life, battering the burning bits of cloth until the fires no longer burned.
It turned it's senses immediately outwards again, and only then realized it's mistake.
The last of the rubble hit it, though it continued to expect more. It's bottom end waved back and forth over a drop of thousands of feet, attempting to get a hold on the spray-slippery rocks of a near vertical surface.
The worm knew Krevster was close, and it could only occasionally sense the other. Two of it's tentacles slipped over as the ground beneath it continued to groan softly, waving back and forth slowly in the air closest to Krevster, while the other four, damaged though they were, continued to wait on the expected barrage of rubble and boulders.
Suddenly there were several heat sources hitting it and bouncing off it, landing directly close to it. It's skin was too thick to burn, and it wasn't flammable, but the burning balls of cloth had a secondary affect. Confusion reigned in the creature's mind. Unsure of the new sources, it used all it's senses to focus on them, trying to decide what new manner of attack this was. It thought it should recognize the sources, but pain dulled it's mind and senses.
For several long moments, the creature tried to read these new sources. It was tense, and obviously preoccupied, it's maw slowly opening and closing, it's tentacles each hovering warily over a burning cloth. For those moments, the creature was effectively vulnerable. The worm, realizing this, finally decided to be rid of these new heat sources as quickly as possible. With that thought, it's tentacles suddenly sprang into life, battering the burning bits of cloth until the fires no longer burned.
It turned it's senses immediately outwards again, and only then realized it's mistake.
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Shadowsong
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Surprised by this new tactic, Krevster greeted it with the outright hatred with which he held for all surprises. Even worse was the annoyance when Morsereg was right next to him, allowing the damn creature to observe and target them both at the same time. Distance was confusing the creature, and he was so far able to wear the thing down through attrition.
Regardless, he almost laughed out loud when the beast began flailing at the balls of fire. When the tentacles paused, he rejoiced in the thrill of the imminent slaughter. Now death would come for the accursed creature, brought on the end of his sword.
With more experience of the worm, he targeted a perceived weakness from the enormous mass. Those legs in the ground gave it enough ground clearance to work his blade beneath the main body of the creature.
And stab up.
Although the blade was aimed outside the field of the legs, it was still underneath the mass. As he pushed his sword upwards, the weight of the worm would push down onto the sword. Something would have to give. In the contest between pointy steel and flesh, steel won every time.
Blade in the creature, he dragged on the hilt upwards like a lever, looking to use the gigantic weight to help force his sword-edge through innards, until the two hands gripping the sword could hold it level again. Then, he would begin twisting the blade to drill it deeper into sundered flesh, sparing his weaker arm to pry the wound further open so that he could push the weapon beyond the hilt and force the length of his arm and shoulder into the wound in his zealous quest to reach a major organ.
Strikes so far had been good, but each blow so far was just another wound, painful but too shallow to be truly deadly. Before he had settled with the need to keep on the move, but here he was facing a foe trapped, locked in place with limbs busied by open flames which did nothing but serve as an extra light by which to enjoy the sight of how his victim suffered.
Blood. Pain. Torment.
Bracing himself, Krevster pushed with all of his leg strength, throwing his body weight behind the weapon as he sought to drive it ever deeper. Here was a struggle, one which took place with all his might. For defence, there was the shield now strapped to his back, and the hope that his attempted burrowing through wounded flesh would give him the cover of the worm's own body as he dug deeper into the flesh of the wound.
Stumbling from the ledge had been a mistake. Hesitating over the fires was a mistake. In so long, Krevster could not remember battling a foe who made more than one mistake.
Never before did they have chance.
Many would say the mistake was fighting Krevster to begin with.
Dammit! He wanted a trophy, and such a foe would make a fine kill.
Regardless, he almost laughed out loud when the beast began flailing at the balls of fire. When the tentacles paused, he rejoiced in the thrill of the imminent slaughter. Now death would come for the accursed creature, brought on the end of his sword.
With more experience of the worm, he targeted a perceived weakness from the enormous mass. Those legs in the ground gave it enough ground clearance to work his blade beneath the main body of the creature.
And stab up.
Although the blade was aimed outside the field of the legs, it was still underneath the mass. As he pushed his sword upwards, the weight of the worm would push down onto the sword. Something would have to give. In the contest between pointy steel and flesh, steel won every time.
Blade in the creature, he dragged on the hilt upwards like a lever, looking to use the gigantic weight to help force his sword-edge through innards, until the two hands gripping the sword could hold it level again. Then, he would begin twisting the blade to drill it deeper into sundered flesh, sparing his weaker arm to pry the wound further open so that he could push the weapon beyond the hilt and force the length of his arm and shoulder into the wound in his zealous quest to reach a major organ.
Strikes so far had been good, but each blow so far was just another wound, painful but too shallow to be truly deadly. Before he had settled with the need to keep on the move, but here he was facing a foe trapped, locked in place with limbs busied by open flames which did nothing but serve as an extra light by which to enjoy the sight of how his victim suffered.
Blood. Pain. Torment.
Bracing himself, Krevster pushed with all of his leg strength, throwing his body weight behind the weapon as he sought to drive it ever deeper. Here was a struggle, one which took place with all his might. For defence, there was the shield now strapped to his back, and the hope that his attempted burrowing through wounded flesh would give him the cover of the worm's own body as he dug deeper into the flesh of the wound.
Stumbling from the ledge had been a mistake. Hesitating over the fires was a mistake. In so long, Krevster could not remember battling a foe who made more than one mistake.
Never before did they have chance.
Many would say the mistake was fighting Krevster to begin with.
Dammit! He wanted a trophy, and such a foe would make a fine kill.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
((NPC Post))
Krevster was already beneath it and stabbing upwards when the creature realized it's mistake. A cry of anger and pain escaped it as the sword stabbed upwards, piercing flesh, muscle and vital organs. It tried to maintain it's grip and pull itself forward as another roar echoed through the room.
Tentacles shot out to batter at Krevster, though he was just at the reach limit of the tentacles closest. Buffeting at him, they could hardly touch him, and if he were to move, they would simply wave ineffectually at the air near him.
Realizing it had could do nothing, inundated with waves of pain as Krevster's sword tore through it's sensitive insides, the creature began thrashing. The lower portion of it's body waved frantically back and forth in the pit, trying to get more purchase, or to help it get away from this creature who was causing it so much pain. It maintained it's grip on the outer portion of the hole through sheer force of will, even while the lower half continued to wave writhe back and forth.
As Krevster twisted and prodded with his sword, a sharp crack from the already devastated cavern floor echoed from wall to wall in the cavern. Another crack, louder than the first, caused bits of dirt to rain down from the already shattered ceiling.
Suddenly the entire floor beneath the worm gave way, a thirty foot long by twenty foot wide section suddenly sliding towards the hole leading to the bottom of the waterfall. The section was wide enough to include the portion Krevster was standing on.
The worm roared in surprise and fear as the floor section tottered for a moment, then suddenly overbalanced from the worm's significant weight being dragged down by the waterfall.
With a last roar of surprise and fear, the worm was sent into the depths with the section of floor, the sound of rock hitting rock echoing back up the hole. The sound of anything that might have hit the bottom was swallowed up in the constant roar of the waterfall itself.
Krevster was already beneath it and stabbing upwards when the creature realized it's mistake. A cry of anger and pain escaped it as the sword stabbed upwards, piercing flesh, muscle and vital organs. It tried to maintain it's grip and pull itself forward as another roar echoed through the room.
Tentacles shot out to batter at Krevster, though he was just at the reach limit of the tentacles closest. Buffeting at him, they could hardly touch him, and if he were to move, they would simply wave ineffectually at the air near him.
Realizing it had could do nothing, inundated with waves of pain as Krevster's sword tore through it's sensitive insides, the creature began thrashing. The lower portion of it's body waved frantically back and forth in the pit, trying to get more purchase, or to help it get away from this creature who was causing it so much pain. It maintained it's grip on the outer portion of the hole through sheer force of will, even while the lower half continued to wave writhe back and forth.
As Krevster twisted and prodded with his sword, a sharp crack from the already devastated cavern floor echoed from wall to wall in the cavern. Another crack, louder than the first, caused bits of dirt to rain down from the already shattered ceiling.
Suddenly the entire floor beneath the worm gave way, a thirty foot long by twenty foot wide section suddenly sliding towards the hole leading to the bottom of the waterfall. The section was wide enough to include the portion Krevster was standing on.
The worm roared in surprise and fear as the floor section tottered for a moment, then suddenly overbalanced from the worm's significant weight being dragged down by the waterfall.
With a last roar of surprise and fear, the worm was sent into the depths with the section of floor, the sound of rock hitting rock echoing back up the hole. The sound of anything that might have hit the bottom was swallowed up in the constant roar of the waterfall itself.
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Shadowsong
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Crack.
That was his cue to leave.
The previous cave-in was a clear example of what this thing could do to the scenery. Knowing what could happen, the sound made Krevster wince, more importantly, it made him pull his sword free.
A braced shoulder assisted with that, as he pushed his body on the beast for leverage to get his weapon clear. Drawing back, a sense of longing struck Darkheart, as he realised the relish he felt from having the monster writhing atop his sword like a pinned butterfly bleeding away it's last moments. This thing was considerably bigger than a butterfly, so his sadism would have to wait.
Rushing forth, Krevster dashed in the direction of his discarded torch, leaving himself vulnerable to swipes of the tentacles as he did so. Seeking to save his sword, Krevster jabbed the thing forwards in an uppercut thrust, releasing as he did to send the sword sailing overhead. As he ran, he could feel the ground shift and his destination inching further away.
One leap took him onto solid ground, and into solid ground as his balance departed upon landing. Crashing heavily, he struck against a pile of rubble with air painfully raking his battered lungs with each ragged breath.
At this moment, he stuck to panting, begrudging any effort of moving just yet.
That was his cue to leave.
The previous cave-in was a clear example of what this thing could do to the scenery. Knowing what could happen, the sound made Krevster wince, more importantly, it made him pull his sword free.
A braced shoulder assisted with that, as he pushed his body on the beast for leverage to get his weapon clear. Drawing back, a sense of longing struck Darkheart, as he realised the relish he felt from having the monster writhing atop his sword like a pinned butterfly bleeding away it's last moments. This thing was considerably bigger than a butterfly, so his sadism would have to wait.
Rushing forth, Krevster dashed in the direction of his discarded torch, leaving himself vulnerable to swipes of the tentacles as he did so. Seeking to save his sword, Krevster jabbed the thing forwards in an uppercut thrust, releasing as he did to send the sword sailing overhead. As he ran, he could feel the ground shift and his destination inching further away.
One leap took him onto solid ground, and into solid ground as his balance departed upon landing. Crashing heavily, he struck against a pile of rubble with air painfully raking his battered lungs with each ragged breath.
At this moment, he stuck to panting, begrudging any effort of moving just yet.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
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Morsereg Dindaedel
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He didn't only hear the ground crack, but he felt it at the same time. The vampire knew there was little more he could do without sacrificing himself at the present time, as Darkheart would take care of the beast with his sword. This lead to Morsereg retreating when he felt the ground beneath them begin to hint at falling away. Soon, his heightened vision noticed Krevster coming as well.
And there it went...a portion of the cavern floor collapsed into darkness, and it seemed the worm was gone. Morsereg stood straight, glancing at the empty space in which the worm had been just moments before, and then tossed his glance around, looking for Alalia and for Darkheart. He found the other male member of their little group first, approaching him from the side. "Please, tell me that that damned worm is gone."
He internally sighed, noting that he would need blood soon. He usually didn't need to feed this quickly after having previously fed before.
Then again, he usually didn't fight giant worms, either.
And there it went...a portion of the cavern floor collapsed into darkness, and it seemed the worm was gone. Morsereg stood straight, glancing at the empty space in which the worm had been just moments before, and then tossed his glance around, looking for Alalia and for Darkheart. He found the other male member of their little group first, approaching him from the side. "Please, tell me that that damned worm is gone."
He internally sighed, noting that he would need blood soon. He usually didn't need to feed this quickly after having previously fed before.
Then again, he usually didn't fight giant worms, either.
((NPC Post))
Silence once again shrouded the misted room. The torch burned fitfully where it lay on the floor, where Krevster had left it. The light only served to illuminate the mist surrounding it, creating an atmosphere much like a lighthouse in the fog.
The only sound was the constant faded roar of water tumbling through the hole, and the occasional shifting of rocks as the piles of dust and debris shifted into the piles they would be centuries from now.
Nothing moved but for the water and the three inhabitants of the cavern. All was as it had been before the worm, but for the minor change in scenery.
Silence once again shrouded the misted room. The torch burned fitfully where it lay on the floor, where Krevster had left it. The light only served to illuminate the mist surrounding it, creating an atmosphere much like a lighthouse in the fog.
The only sound was the constant faded roar of water tumbling through the hole, and the occasional shifting of rocks as the piles of dust and debris shifted into the piles they would be centuries from now.
Nothing moved but for the water and the three inhabitants of the cavern. All was as it had been before the worm, but for the minor change in scenery.
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Shadowsong
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These were nice soft rocks. Comfortable, with the sharp poking of hard edges nullified by the trauma plates of his armour.
Doubting how long the torchlight would last, Krevster forced himself to his feet and fetched the torch while he had chance. Though there was little else he could see beyond the coil and roll of mist, the presence of a light was a comfort to him, as at least now he could see something, even if it was nothing of use to him.
Feeling the aches stabbing through his body beneath his armour, Krevster considered his next options. Being without aguide was a significant loss, but it was not really Jerem that had guided them. Instead, Jerem was being guided as much as the rest of them.
So he was really expendable. The entity seemed to think so at any rate.
In answer to Morsereg's question, Krevster chimed in, "We dropped it off a cliff, that usually does the trick. Your status?" That seemed relevant. Certainly a factor in making decisions. Although the vampire was moving steadily enough, Darkheart made no pretense of understanding the forces involved with such creatures, so was relying on him to tell of any concerns that would apply.
Lifting the torch up high, Krevster found the gloom presenting a solid wall eager to defy his puny fire. "Shall we press on, or return to the village for now? At the village we can restock and supply, and be rid of the liability of the cat." That had been a hard fought battle, and Krevster did note that Morsereg had been injured in the process. Accepting such risk as fighting that behemoth only to betray someone later would be stupidity, and already Krevster was evaluating the vampire as a potential ally for the future.
One well worth the investment.
Doubting how long the torchlight would last, Krevster forced himself to his feet and fetched the torch while he had chance. Though there was little else he could see beyond the coil and roll of mist, the presence of a light was a comfort to him, as at least now he could see something, even if it was nothing of use to him.
Feeling the aches stabbing through his body beneath his armour, Krevster considered his next options. Being without aguide was a significant loss, but it was not really Jerem that had guided them. Instead, Jerem was being guided as much as the rest of them.
So he was really expendable. The entity seemed to think so at any rate.
In answer to Morsereg's question, Krevster chimed in, "We dropped it off a cliff, that usually does the trick. Your status?" That seemed relevant. Certainly a factor in making decisions. Although the vampire was moving steadily enough, Darkheart made no pretense of understanding the forces involved with such creatures, so was relying on him to tell of any concerns that would apply.
Lifting the torch up high, Krevster found the gloom presenting a solid wall eager to defy his puny fire. "Shall we press on, or return to the village for now? At the village we can restock and supply, and be rid of the liability of the cat." That had been a hard fought battle, and Krevster did note that Morsereg had been injured in the process. Accepting such risk as fighting that behemoth only to betray someone later would be stupidity, and already Krevster was evaluating the vampire as a potential ally for the future.
One well worth the investment.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
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Morsereg Dindaedel
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"Well, Darkheart, it's up to you," The Vampire looked at his mortal companion. "You're the one who needs proper sleep. By the dawn, I don't need to go anywhere, should I need to regenerate wounds I can just crawl into a corner and sleep. I can protect my body from any threats, because as I sleep I can travel in astral form to guard my physical form."
He paused, looking at the dark abyss before them, "Though, even guarding my body in astral form, I don't trust that god-forsaken Cat around my body while I rest. I need blood soon...after fighting that damned worm, I'll need to feed soon. If you wish to press on, I can feed off rats. If you wish to return to the city, I'll feed on human blood, which is the most enjoyable, but rats are bareable if you wish to keep on going."
He paused, looking at the dark abyss before them, "Though, even guarding my body in astral form, I don't trust that god-forsaken Cat around my body while I rest. I need blood soon...after fighting that damned worm, I'll need to feed soon. If you wish to press on, I can feed off rats. If you wish to return to the city, I'll feed on human blood, which is the most enjoyable, but rats are bareable if you wish to keep on going."
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Shadowsong
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"We head to the surface."
Unconsciously, that was spoken as if addressing a unit, as though the decision was always his and he was soliciting advice. That said, Morsereg had yielded the decision, and Krevster had no interest in consulting Alalia.
Hearing the details of vampiric strengths and weaknesses was fascinating to Krevster, but that would have to wait. Information was deadly in the right hands, or the wrong ones. While Morsereg outlined some of his powers and limitations, Alalia could be taking mental notes.
"We are out of torches." At that statement, the torch flame bobbed, keeping well clear of the vampire but drawing attention to the object in question. "We will need to bring more, this place is already larger than I had planned for. Eat, rest, and recover." Fighting in wars had taught him to be cautious and prepared, arranging every advantage before heading into battle. This was no different. Unprepared, they would fail, and failure with such a great weight of earth above would mean death.
And death could wait.
To be thorough, cautious, and methodical were key to success, but delays would draw attention. Attention was dangerous. There were many in power who would not approve of such extra-cirricular activities as spelunking in caverns thick with dark magic. The best defence against this was so ironic that Krevster simply had to share. "For those who wonder, we are investigating the disappearance of the gravekeeper. Now we have every right to be searching the graveyard." A conspiratorial innocence featured in that sentance. As a matter of fact, Krevster was planning to blame it on the cat, but it would be best to get rid of her first.
Assuming no further issues, or none that could not be discussed along the way, Krevster began clambering over the rocks to reach the first entrance.
Unconsciously, that was spoken as if addressing a unit, as though the decision was always his and he was soliciting advice. That said, Morsereg had yielded the decision, and Krevster had no interest in consulting Alalia.
Hearing the details of vampiric strengths and weaknesses was fascinating to Krevster, but that would have to wait. Information was deadly in the right hands, or the wrong ones. While Morsereg outlined some of his powers and limitations, Alalia could be taking mental notes.
"We are out of torches." At that statement, the torch flame bobbed, keeping well clear of the vampire but drawing attention to the object in question. "We will need to bring more, this place is already larger than I had planned for. Eat, rest, and recover." Fighting in wars had taught him to be cautious and prepared, arranging every advantage before heading into battle. This was no different. Unprepared, they would fail, and failure with such a great weight of earth above would mean death.
And death could wait.
To be thorough, cautious, and methodical were key to success, but delays would draw attention. Attention was dangerous. There were many in power who would not approve of such extra-cirricular activities as spelunking in caverns thick with dark magic. The best defence against this was so ironic that Krevster simply had to share. "For those who wonder, we are investigating the disappearance of the gravekeeper. Now we have every right to be searching the graveyard." A conspiratorial innocence featured in that sentance. As a matter of fact, Krevster was planning to blame it on the cat, but it would be best to get rid of her first.
Assuming no further issues, or none that could not be discussed along the way, Krevster began clambering over the rocks to reach the first entrance.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
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Morsereg Dindaedel
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- Race: Vampire
Morsereg nodded, "To the surface it is, then." He showed no change in demeanor, though a light did flash behind his eyes for a short moment when he realized that he would be able to feast on human flesh.
He followed Krevster, navigating around and over rocks that blocked his path, towards the entrance. "And, if they question why a Noble such as myself is aiding you in searching the tombs, it is because the grave keeper was a close personal friend of mine since childhood." A smirk appeared on his face as they wove their lie in advance, so as not to be caught in the future. Now, they just needed to get out, and get back into town so he could feed, and Darkheart could rest. As they made their way back towards the surface, he vaguely recalled that they had not heard anything of Alalia since before the fight with the worm.
This did not worry him, for the cat could not catch him by surprise and overpower him...Not him, the Vampire Morsereg. He cast no thought to the whereabouts of the cat, turning to Krevster. "If you need lodging, my home is secure. None can penetrate it's walls without my knowledge. I do not know where you reside, but such places as an Inn will do you no good, as there is always someone listening when you don't want them to be, and we cannot afford interference."
He followed Krevster, navigating around and over rocks that blocked his path, towards the entrance. "And, if they question why a Noble such as myself is aiding you in searching the tombs, it is because the grave keeper was a close personal friend of mine since childhood." A smirk appeared on his face as they wove their lie in advance, so as not to be caught in the future. Now, they just needed to get out, and get back into town so he could feed, and Darkheart could rest. As they made their way back towards the surface, he vaguely recalled that they had not heard anything of Alalia since before the fight with the worm.
This did not worry him, for the cat could not catch him by surprise and overpower him...Not him, the Vampire Morsereg. He cast no thought to the whereabouts of the cat, turning to Krevster. "If you need lodging, my home is secure. None can penetrate it's walls without my knowledge. I do not know where you reside, but such places as an Inn will do you no good, as there is always someone listening when you don't want them to be, and we cannot afford interference."
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Shadowsong
- Citizen
- Posts: 193
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 3:28 am
- Race: Human
From within the helm, Krevster shook his head. It was a small flaw, but telling. Now he knew that the vampire was mostly an outsider. People often revealed too much of themselves in their suggestions. "This is a close-knit town, people would know if Jerem was friends with a noble. Besides, as far as anyone can see Jerem is near twice your age, best not to let them know differently." While not the expert on vampires, he had little trouble with the concept that they bore not the strain of the years on their body. "We can just call your aid a sense of civic duty, neither of us need explain more." Were it not painful he would have shrugged.
"Thank you. Staying at your home would be best, although I will keep my room at the inn open for appearances." Ever cautious, Darkheart had no wish to lead others to Morsereg, and he trusted him not to strike at him while he was vulnerable. After all, the vampire had stood by him in the fight with the worm, which was a significant danger for anybody.
Now he followed the winding path, having sheathed his sword and leading with the torch. Still, as he moved, he kept wary eyes left and right, in case there was some treachery in mind from that cursed abomination. Already the cat had lost all usefulness to Krevster, and he was undecided if he was obligated to call off the hunt. At the moment, he was leaning towards leaving it. While he did not particularly care about punishing her, despite her constant annoyance, he had no fondness for loose ends.
Ideal would have been for her to have been buried by the cave-in. That would have gotten rid of any potentially lingering threat and removed any question of how to treat her once this was all done. Betrayal would undermine those loyalties which he was already building, and those loyalties were more valueable than the cat.
On the way upwards, he paused at nearly each junction, trying to remember the way. There were something resembling landmarks, and there was dust. Lots of dust. Enough disturbed to provide some guidance when in doubt.
The next day he would inform Shim of the disappearance of the gravekeeper, and blame that event on Alalia.
Finally, she had her uses.
"Thank you. Staying at your home would be best, although I will keep my room at the inn open for appearances." Ever cautious, Darkheart had no wish to lead others to Morsereg, and he trusted him not to strike at him while he was vulnerable. After all, the vampire had stood by him in the fight with the worm, which was a significant danger for anybody.
Now he followed the winding path, having sheathed his sword and leading with the torch. Still, as he moved, he kept wary eyes left and right, in case there was some treachery in mind from that cursed abomination. Already the cat had lost all usefulness to Krevster, and he was undecided if he was obligated to call off the hunt. At the moment, he was leaning towards leaving it. While he did not particularly care about punishing her, despite her constant annoyance, he had no fondness for loose ends.
Ideal would have been for her to have been buried by the cave-in. That would have gotten rid of any potentially lingering threat and removed any question of how to treat her once this was all done. Betrayal would undermine those loyalties which he was already building, and those loyalties were more valueable than the cat.
On the way upwards, he paused at nearly each junction, trying to remember the way. There were something resembling landmarks, and there was dust. Lots of dust. Enough disturbed to provide some guidance when in doubt.
The next day he would inform Shim of the disappearance of the gravekeeper, and blame that event on Alalia.
Finally, she had her uses.
If violence is not the answer, you have asked me the wrong question.
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Morsereg Dindaedel
- Citizen
- Posts: 61
- Joined: Sun Jun 11, 2006 3:26 pm
- Race: Vampire
(Sorry for the length, I couldn't help myself. I felt I had to make up for the two weeks I was missing. I hope I didn't break any rules...)
Once above ground, Morsereg turned to Krevster, looking at him for a minute. "When you get to the Inn, ask for Severi. He will give you my whereabouts. He's a trusted messenger of the Thieves Guild who alerted me to your need for information. While members of that Guild usually go towards the highest bidder...they know not to cross me." He finished that last sentence while turning, and departed into the night without so much more as another sound. By his calculations, the sun was not far off...he would make his rounds the following night.
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Morsereg approached his home calmly, though the coming presence of the sun would have been unnerving to many other vampires. He entered his home, making his way silently to the basement. All the while, he was assessing his new found partner in Krevster, and the undeniable pain that cat was becoming. Once underground, he slid into his coffin, sliding the stone top over him as he was engulfed in black. As his presence slid from him into sleep as the sun rose, he traveled in astral form back to the atrium of his large home, sitting on the main stairwell, completely invisible. As he mulled over everything, he watched the door, occasionally getting up to patrol the rest of the house.
Before he knew it, the sun was setting once again, and the hunt would begin. Slinking back down to the basement, he entered his body again, pushing the granite slab off of him, standing. He would dine like a King, tonight...He slid on white gloves, making sure that he looked presentable as he stepped into the night.
He made his way down the streets of Shim, towards one particular nobles house, one whom he had turned down dinner invitation after dinner invitation. Well, now, he was taking that invitation. He was admitted in, going straight to the dining room, where the noble, Cronos, was already seated comfortably with his two children, twin girls around the age of 4, with long blonde hair. On his left sat his wife, Ceiseron, with her thick brown hair and hazel eyes looking at Morsereg with suspicion. She had never trusted him...She'd be the first to go.
Morsereg sat down, looking at the group with a fake smile. He took a sip from the wine offered, but then continued to neglect his glass. Before long, the children were sent up to bed, and Morsereg was left alone with Cronos and Ceiseron.
"So, what brings you here, Morsereg? All the times you've declined our invitations, and now you accept?" Cronos asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about someone. The GraveKeeper has gone missing...I was wondering if you had any ideas about his whereabouts?" Morsereg asked, lacing his fingers together as he talked.
"Jerem? No, I don't know. I've never really talked to the man, just seen him occasionally when visiting my mother's grave site..." Cronos nodded, blinking as he looked down. When he looked up, all the doors had been shut and Morsereg was standing behind him, hands on his shoulders.
"You see, Cronos, I've turned over a new leaf. I'm now going to use my nobility to help society out...I'm looking for the gravekeeper, to help society. Doing this may not really have any connection to the gravekeeper, but it will help society a bundle..." He smirked, whispering into Cronos' ear. Gloves off, his fingernails dug into Cronos' neck, ripping a wide gash of blood, which began to run down the front of his shirt, staining the tablecloth. Ceiseron by then had started to shriek at the horrific happenings, calling Morsereg a monster.
"Am I the real monster?" He asked, going down to swallow some of the blood as it poured from his neck, leaving most of it there to fall in a waterfall-like display. He turned his head back to Ceiseron, all spells called off and his true nature revealed to her. He began to stalk towards her as she stood. "Am I really the monster? Compared to the society we live in...full of Kings and Queens, who blind your eyes and steal your dreams." All at once, Ceiseron was pinned against the wall by her throat, Morsereg holding her there with one hand. "You know, come to think of it," He leaned forward so that their noses were touching. "Perhaps I am the monster." He removed his hand, driving his teeth into her neck as she began to scream. Their butler began to slam on the door, asking if everything was alright as his mistress fell dead into Morsereg's arms. He had his fill, and would be fine.
Morsereg wandered over to the door, opening it and letting the butler in, putting on a fake look of terror and despair. "She...she killed him...then she killed herself..." He opened his eyes wide as the butler walked past him, suddenly turning around and snapping his neck as if it were a twig, leaving the butler to drop to the ground a lifeless sack of skin and ascending the stairs towards the daughter's room.
He walked in on the two sleeping soundly, finding it amazing how their little ears hadn't picked up the despair. He lifted the first girl up by her hair, waking her up immediately to a sharp pulling on her head. She came face to face with the monster and began to shriek, waking up her sister. Her sister, the braver of the two, jumped up and quickly began beating on Morsereg's shin with her small fists, only to be met with a kick to her chin from the Vampire, doubling as not only breaking her jaw but also bending her head back so far her neck snapped, dropping her dead. He then took his time feeding on the girl who hung by her hair, making sure to keep her alive as long as possible. As the last of her life was drained, he dropped her to the ground. He descended the stairs again, leaving the house out of sight and out of mind.
His next stop was the shanty town...it was a fairly far walk, but that didn't bother the Vampire, as he was most at home in the dark. As he came upon the shanty town, he prepared himself, walking in and immediately calling for the poor of Shim to gather. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Good Evening! My name is Morsereg Dindaedel. How many of you here are currently sick of the way society has treated you?" He got a show of hands, which was actually everyone in the town. "Come with me, and you shall fulfill your wildest dreams! I am here to better society...and I am starting here, with the poor of Shim. The Grave Keeper, Jerem, how many of you know him?" He asked, to which he got a surprising amount of people replying.
"He has gone missing, and a Guard and myself are organizing a search. We know the general area of where he has disappeared, but we need more with us in order to find him successfully! How many of you are willing?" He asked, looking for a show of hands. A group of them were willing, it wasn't a large amount but it would do. They would be good for emergency sustenance and to test traps. "Well, seeing as how all of you other nice folks aren't kind enough to help your our brethren....I bid you goodbye and good riddance." He scoffed at the rest of the town, bringing a good group with him, a group he had actually picked out while making his speech, enchanting them to say yes. They were the strongest, best built, and healthiest he had seen, and he would need them should they encounter another worm, or something worse...
And so it was that the group, Morsereg and his mindless slaves, came upon the tombs once again, and Morsereg turned to eagerly await Krevster.
Once above ground, Morsereg turned to Krevster, looking at him for a minute. "When you get to the Inn, ask for Severi. He will give you my whereabouts. He's a trusted messenger of the Thieves Guild who alerted me to your need for information. While members of that Guild usually go towards the highest bidder...they know not to cross me." He finished that last sentence while turning, and departed into the night without so much more as another sound. By his calculations, the sun was not far off...he would make his rounds the following night.
-
Morsereg approached his home calmly, though the coming presence of the sun would have been unnerving to many other vampires. He entered his home, making his way silently to the basement. All the while, he was assessing his new found partner in Krevster, and the undeniable pain that cat was becoming. Once underground, he slid into his coffin, sliding the stone top over him as he was engulfed in black. As his presence slid from him into sleep as the sun rose, he traveled in astral form back to the atrium of his large home, sitting on the main stairwell, completely invisible. As he mulled over everything, he watched the door, occasionally getting up to patrol the rest of the house.
Before he knew it, the sun was setting once again, and the hunt would begin. Slinking back down to the basement, he entered his body again, pushing the granite slab off of him, standing. He would dine like a King, tonight...He slid on white gloves, making sure that he looked presentable as he stepped into the night.
He made his way down the streets of Shim, towards one particular nobles house, one whom he had turned down dinner invitation after dinner invitation. Well, now, he was taking that invitation. He was admitted in, going straight to the dining room, where the noble, Cronos, was already seated comfortably with his two children, twin girls around the age of 4, with long blonde hair. On his left sat his wife, Ceiseron, with her thick brown hair and hazel eyes looking at Morsereg with suspicion. She had never trusted him...She'd be the first to go.
Morsereg sat down, looking at the group with a fake smile. He took a sip from the wine offered, but then continued to neglect his glass. Before long, the children were sent up to bed, and Morsereg was left alone with Cronos and Ceiseron.
"So, what brings you here, Morsereg? All the times you've declined our invitations, and now you accept?" Cronos asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about someone. The GraveKeeper has gone missing...I was wondering if you had any ideas about his whereabouts?" Morsereg asked, lacing his fingers together as he talked.
"Jerem? No, I don't know. I've never really talked to the man, just seen him occasionally when visiting my mother's grave site..." Cronos nodded, blinking as he looked down. When he looked up, all the doors had been shut and Morsereg was standing behind him, hands on his shoulders.
"You see, Cronos, I've turned over a new leaf. I'm now going to use my nobility to help society out...I'm looking for the gravekeeper, to help society. Doing this may not really have any connection to the gravekeeper, but it will help society a bundle..." He smirked, whispering into Cronos' ear. Gloves off, his fingernails dug into Cronos' neck, ripping a wide gash of blood, which began to run down the front of his shirt, staining the tablecloth. Ceiseron by then had started to shriek at the horrific happenings, calling Morsereg a monster.
"Am I the real monster?" He asked, going down to swallow some of the blood as it poured from his neck, leaving most of it there to fall in a waterfall-like display. He turned his head back to Ceiseron, all spells called off and his true nature revealed to her. He began to stalk towards her as she stood. "Am I really the monster? Compared to the society we live in...full of Kings and Queens, who blind your eyes and steal your dreams." All at once, Ceiseron was pinned against the wall by her throat, Morsereg holding her there with one hand. "You know, come to think of it," He leaned forward so that their noses were touching. "Perhaps I am the monster." He removed his hand, driving his teeth into her neck as she began to scream. Their butler began to slam on the door, asking if everything was alright as his mistress fell dead into Morsereg's arms. He had his fill, and would be fine.
Morsereg wandered over to the door, opening it and letting the butler in, putting on a fake look of terror and despair. "She...she killed him...then she killed herself..." He opened his eyes wide as the butler walked past him, suddenly turning around and snapping his neck as if it were a twig, leaving the butler to drop to the ground a lifeless sack of skin and ascending the stairs towards the daughter's room.
He walked in on the two sleeping soundly, finding it amazing how their little ears hadn't picked up the despair. He lifted the first girl up by her hair, waking her up immediately to a sharp pulling on her head. She came face to face with the monster and began to shriek, waking up her sister. Her sister, the braver of the two, jumped up and quickly began beating on Morsereg's shin with her small fists, only to be met with a kick to her chin from the Vampire, doubling as not only breaking her jaw but also bending her head back so far her neck snapped, dropping her dead. He then took his time feeding on the girl who hung by her hair, making sure to keep her alive as long as possible. As the last of her life was drained, he dropped her to the ground. He descended the stairs again, leaving the house out of sight and out of mind.
His next stop was the shanty town...it was a fairly far walk, but that didn't bother the Vampire, as he was most at home in the dark. As he came upon the shanty town, he prepared himself, walking in and immediately calling for the poor of Shim to gather. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Good Evening! My name is Morsereg Dindaedel. How many of you here are currently sick of the way society has treated you?" He got a show of hands, which was actually everyone in the town. "Come with me, and you shall fulfill your wildest dreams! I am here to better society...and I am starting here, with the poor of Shim. The Grave Keeper, Jerem, how many of you know him?" He asked, to which he got a surprising amount of people replying.
"He has gone missing, and a Guard and myself are organizing a search. We know the general area of where he has disappeared, but we need more with us in order to find him successfully! How many of you are willing?" He asked, looking for a show of hands. A group of them were willing, it wasn't a large amount but it would do. They would be good for emergency sustenance and to test traps. "Well, seeing as how all of you other nice folks aren't kind enough to help your our brethren....I bid you goodbye and good riddance." He scoffed at the rest of the town, bringing a good group with him, a group he had actually picked out while making his speech, enchanting them to say yes. They were the strongest, best built, and healthiest he had seen, and he would need them should they encounter another worm, or something worse...
And so it was that the group, Morsereg and his mindless slaves, came upon the tombs once again, and Morsereg turned to eagerly await Krevster.