07-14-2011, 09:12 AM | #1 |
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Zagreb, Croatia
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[IC] The Marching Storm
Act I: To Rule The Land
All of you received an invitation of some sort, to come at the Castle of Simonton. Although it was summer, the day seemed gloomy and bad in general. It wasn't raining, but the clouds were blocking the summer sun, making the colours of the landscape sinister and ominous. Whenever someone came to the Castle and asked for Lord Walton of Simonton, or more specifically, explained that the presence of the approaching individual was needed, the gate guards lowered their heads and slowly lead each and every one through the Castle to the great assembly. Right after the first great hall, you all ended up in there. You did not all arrive at the same time, but one came after another, until a reptile figure appeared, coming out from the next room. It was Grok, Lord Walton's "unofficial" seneschal. Many of you have heard stories about him, but that was not of the importance at that moment. The great assembly had eight pikes placed on the walls, with flags of Simonton and Caithness on them. Usually, they rose up high and findled on the breeze of the huge assembly. Today, that was not the case, as they were put on the half of the pike. A man whom you expected to see had died, and all of you knew it, since that was the traditional way of placing flags when someone deceased. Grok stood in front of you, holding a small envelope in his hand. Besides Grok, you've all noticed each other, along with Sir Fharin, Lord Walton's old friend; Sir Astaron, his brother; and Lord Slenthan, another local noble. In the state of complete confusion and disbelief, Sir Astaron, a plump man, red in face and almost with no hair at all broke the silence: "W...what is this trickery, lizard?! Where is my brother? Why were we all summoned, WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE is this?!" (OOC: Feel free to post in the thread. Pick your colour, I as a GM will be using bolded black text for NPCs.) |
07-14-2011, 09:37 AM | #2 |
Join Date: Mar 2011
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
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07-14-2011, 09:45 AM | #3 |
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Zagreb, Croatia
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Lord Slenthan, a short, sleazy looking man in blue, extravagant clothes observes the whole scene, with one hand tucked and one scratching his chin.
"Wh...WHO ARE YOU to tell me to calm down, you filthy commoner?!", Sir Astaron yells at Ezrael, only to be interrupted by another voice. "Have some respect for the deceased, Astaron." Lord Fharin, a tall man in noble, yet simple clothes puts his arm on Ezrael's shoulder. "This man may be a commoner, but he speaks for most of us. Pay some respect for the dead Lord Walton. He was your brother, after all." Fharin turns to Grok and continues. "Grok. Since you were his apprentice and closest friend, would you mind telling us when did the good Lord die? I presume it was last night, since I spoke to him very recently." The hall is filled with anxiety and an odd feeling. The breeze is not blowing since the windows are closed, and the only light comes from the candles. (OOC: I presume you did not read each other's sheets, so describing your characters might be a good idea to start. :)) |
07-14-2011, 10:40 AM | #4 |
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: Detroit, Michigan
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Ducan stands in disbelief. His brow furled under his dark wavy mid length mane. Crossing his arms and leaning against a pillar he says in response to Lord Astarons rantings,"Your surprise might fool the others "Father" but not me." He stares him down as if he suspects him of something. "Lord Walton has many enemies, Perhaps even some amoung some in this group."
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You can get more with a 2X4 and a kind word then with just a kind word! Randal Kane - Trent Bauer |
07-14-2011, 10:44 AM | #5 |
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: earth....I think.
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Alonso Funchess is in his mid 30's now, a wizard for the town helping when he can for the past 10 years or so. he walks with his staff always and a pouch filled with general items he tends to need for the day, usually consisting of bandages, water skin, herbs, ink well and parchment, as well as some food.
He had feared this would be the reason, after all the lord was quite ill and even he could not help. He takes these moments to remain quite and listen to what the others say, trying to piece together what will happen next. |
07-14-2011, 11:25 AM | #6 | |
Join Date: Mar 2011
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Ezreal is of mid height (5'8") and thin to the extreme, skin over bone and sinew. The most obvious thing is his hair is blue. Other than that fairly normal brown eyes, a slight tan, sturdy travelers clothes. And he did bring his two weapons, his trusty sword and bow.
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07-14-2011, 12:15 PM | #7 | |||
Join Date: May 2010
Location: West Virginia, USA
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
It's rare that a mammal gets an opportunity to learn this, but the fact of the matter is, Reptile-Men don't cry. They are thinking feeling beings in their own way, and as such loss and sorrow are not beyond them. Grok's heart was certainly broken, but lacking in tear ducts, did not cry. His lizard-like muzzle ended in a frown, but it was not obvious to those that did not know him well.
…“Walton would have noticed”... Thoughts like these kept jumping into his mind, disturbing his inner voice as a thrown boulder disturbs a stream. His head did not hang low, it was an unnatural stance for the Reptiles unless they were feeling threatened. He tried faking a downward facing muzzle, but it seemed too much like mockery. No, the natural, biological response to despair in a reptile is hunger. The day he discovered Walton's lifeless form ...”I was the last one to hear his words”... he bought a mule that very evening. He consulted a mirror in the small washroom and removed a spot of blood with a damp cloth he had previously missed. He had dressed in his finest funerary wear, the traditional black stood in perfect contrast to his bone white scales. Custom made by order of Walton not to long ...“he knew, really, deep down I did too”... ago. Black tunic, grieves, and specialized boots that felt uncomfortable on Grok's reptilian feet. There was even a black cloak, probably due to Grok's fondness for them, that he declined to wear at the moment. They fit superbly around the Reptile's nine foot tall frame. He took a deep breath and ducked through the door into the assembly room, sealed envelope clutched in his clawed hand. He had scarcely had time to reach the podium before the small audience before Sir Astaron's outburst Quote:
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In plain view of everyone, he sliced the edge of the sealed package open with a claw and slid the contents out onto the podium. The letter, fell with a clunk due to the heavy key on a long, thin chain he quickly discovered folded in the page. He than proceeded to read the message word for word. Quote:
“If anyone would like to review the letter for themselves, this would be the time.” “Oh father... what happens next?”
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Cthulhu for president; why vote for the lesser evils? |
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07-14-2011, 02:08 PM | #8 |
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: Detroit, Michigan
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Ducan smiles wide,"Ah father I couldn't help but notice you not being mentioned...interesting. But of course you shall be in the running for the Lordship." Giving Sir Astaron a sly wink. "Well now I shall be in the tavern with my squad if the next lord wish to issue his orders to me" Looking at Godfrey,"Congratulations dear cousin. I wish you the best." He turns and starts out to leave for the tavern he left his mercenary squad.
__________________
You can get more with a 2X4 and a kind word then with just a kind word! Randal Kane - Trent Bauer |
07-14-2011, 02:20 PM | #9 |
Join Date: May 2010
Location: West Virginia, USA
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
"Indeed, Godfrey, I'm sure we can garner support for you swiftly."
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Cthulhu for president; why vote for the lesser evils? |
07-14-2011, 02:25 PM | #10 | |
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Zagreb, Croatia
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Re: [IC] The Marching Storm
Astaron gasps and becomes as red as the pepper after hearing the whole text read to them. His facial gestures changed from paragraph to paragraph, from confusion to curiosity to the absolute rage.
"You did NOT see the best of me yet! Pick between yourselves whomever you wish to, I shall not be a part of this charade. As much as I am concerned, Wally can burn in Hell!" He furiously turns his back to everyone and demonstratively marches out of the assembly room. Quote:
"Be careful what you speak, you filthy mercenary. If you insist on mocking me, consider polishing your sword. Soon, you will need it." He goes out of the castle, hops on his horse and rides off furiously. After Duncan was stopped by Astaron, he is approached by Sir Fharin, who says: "Duncan. If you really feel obliged to go, do so, but I believe it would be for the best for you to stay here until we resolve the situation coming out of this will." Fharin approaches Grok, and then takes the will, which he begins to study. At the same time, Lord Slenthan speaks: "Marvelously executed. As though he planned this the whole time. Sly weasel, I'll give him that. In this room, then, we have four men of noble heritage." he looks at Duncan "And one bastard son. So, the four of us are supposed to give our votes and acknowledge the next Lord? Just like that." Slenthan laughs, and after calming a bit, continues: "Do you really expect of me to give my vote to a petty Captain Guard? He would really want to acknowledge him but Walton cannot do it because he is dead. Oh, Heavens have mercy!" He smirks again before continuing. "I'll leave you baboons to play the king of the hill. I have other business to attend to. Lord Cabble of Denton also requires my presence. I shall take my leave. If you would excuse me." He starts walking out of the assembly, chuckling as he goes. His swagger looks immensely disturbing, but a dose of envy can sure be seen, both in his manner of walking and his voice. |
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Tags |
banestorm, caithess, civil war, mass combat, yrth |
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