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Worlde Arcane: Aniada: The Bridge


The Lorimar Bridge

Stretching with austere prominence over the rushing waters of the River Uiopa, the Lorimar Bridge is a mighty and expertly crafted work of iron and stone, a strange combination of elegant beauty and practical strength. Massive granite pylons hold the wide Bridge aloft as it guides the path of the Lorimar Road between Daelows and Terajin. Traffic across the span is brisk in both directions.

An infantry detachment of the Daelows Army stand watch over the Bridge at all times. They are part of the Zabarzh garrison, the fortified town that sits on the bank of the River Uiopa at the west end of the bridge.

•Eastward travel leads to Bridgewest
•Westward travel leads to The Terajin Shadowpath

 Zabarzh--Fortified Town and Riverport

 "Wanted Criminals" Posters September 15, 2006 - 11:45 pm

 Dock Beneath the Bridge December 30, 2007 - 2:00 am

 Archive through April 23, 2005 April 23, 2005 - 4:43 pm

 

By Uniformed in Blue and Silver, Daelows Army (Infantry)

Saturday, April 23, 2005 - 5:30 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

When the young woman scantily-clad in deer hides walked past, the three soldiers on watch on the bridge to ensure traffic flowed smoothly took note of how smoothly she walked....

By Daughter of the Forest. (Hana)

Sunday, April 24, 2005 - 3:51 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Hana saw that the soldiers seemed to notice her, but did not attempt to speak to her or apprehend her. While there was something in their glances that she could not quite identify (she was reminded of the traveler she had passed on the Lorimar not long ago), they seemed to pose no threat. Relieved, Hana continued on towards Zabarzh.

(OOC: To Zabarzh: Roadway Gate.)

By Gaftin Bellworn (Gaftin)

Sunday, June 19, 2005 - 3:00 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Gaftin rode up from the gate to the bridge. He stopped int he middle and watched the water flowing underneath for a moment before continuing on. As he passed by the gaurds milling about he doffed his hat to them.

Good day gentlemen


OOC: To bridgewest
 

By Uniformed in Blue and Silver, Daelows Army (Infantry)

Sunday, June 19, 2005 - 7:19 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The trio of infantrymen standing watch at the moment, their javelins resting against the side of the bridge, raised hands in response to the fellow riding by with a greeting. "And good day to ya, goodman," one man responded, pleased with even the small break from twelve hours of watching a stone bridge and a mighty river flow by underneath.

By Talented Bard (Helene_ufara)

Friday, July 21, 2006 - 4:07 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Helene led the small party along the road, she moved at a slow pace, keeping eyes and ears open incase of anything untoward.

To Bridgewest

By Quillia Fellnock (Quill)

Friday, September 22, 2006 - 4:49 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

OOC>from Lorimar road, Bridgewest

Quilla reached the huge bridge in afternoon, after miles of hurried travel through the forest. As was usual with the woodself, she had skirted the road itself.

She studied the guards on the bridge, then as casually as she could, she stepped out onto the road. . .and onto the bridge to cross.

By Quillia Fellnock (Quill)

Saturday, September 23, 2006 - 3:08 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Quill crossed the Bridge and continued on to the Terajin Shadowpath. Although the guards eyed her, they did not challenge her passing.

ooc> to Terajin Shadowpath
 

By Uniformed in Silver and Blue, Daelows (Infantry)

Saturday, September 23, 2006 - 7:46 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The three infantrymen on watch on the bridge watched the tatooed elf-girl pass, then went back to their long-standing discussion as to whether Tenora or the Saghane Swamp would be a worse place to be posted....

By Talented Bard (Helene_ufara)

Thursday, October 5, 2006 - 8:39 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Helene rode at a canter, stopping when she saw the wanted posters nailed to the trees. Dangerous work, bountyhunting......

She rode on.
 

By Lt Ban Pavidor of the Army of Daelows (Ban)

Friday, December 29, 2006 - 4:47 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Ban pulled on the reins of his palfrey, guiding him towards the bridge, the twelve men of his squad followed suit. All thirteen men looked haggard from the month spent in the cold forests and putrid swamps, the servants riding after with the packhorses looked even worse. Most were happy the Long Range Patrol was over and were eager to collect their Patrol pay, which amounted to three Daelows Crowns a day for the soldiers plus a completion bonus, and head to taverns and brothels to redisperse their newly acquired fortunes.

Ban halted the squadron on the bridge as they passed an Infantryman on watch, "Soldier, have entry made in the Journal, that Lieutenant Ban Pavidor has returned with his Squad from patrol. The West is Silent."

Ban raised his gloved hand and the Squad spurred their horses and crossed the bridge toward Zabarzh--The River Gate.
 

By Uniformed in Silver and Blue, Daelows (Infantry)

Saturday, December 30, 2006 - 8:20 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

"Aye, Lietenant," the Corporal of Infantry responded with a salute, fist to his leather-armoured chest, he knew the officer naturally enough since they both served in the same garrison. "The West be silent, I shall so enter in the Journal," he replied, then upon being dismissed turned to head to the guardhouse, leaving his two Infantrymen standing by the wall to one side of the Bridge, keeping watch.

By Imp (Imp)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007 - 4:19 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Bridgewest)


Amanda and her wolf continued hitching wagon rides towards Terajin. They played the 'a boy and his dog' part quite well. After the talkative farmer they got lucky and got picked up by a small caravan. Amanda promised 'his dog' can chase off wolves and even bears, and Imp proved by making caravan dogs slink off with tails between legs.

From then on, Imp ate, then the dogs ate. Amanda ate with the Umans.

By Imp (Imp)

Thursday, June 14, 2007 - 7:27 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Amanda and her 'dog' keep traveling with the caravan Westward, towards Terajin. Amanda pulls the 'young boy' act quite well and has not yet been found out.

(TO:

Bridgewest)

By Dirge Skiæzo-Påno (Dirge)

Saturday, June 16, 2007 - 11:04 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

The Terajin Shadowpath)



Dirge rolled on like thunder, the marching feet of a dwarf pummeling him onward across the Bridge. Eyes burned both with the anger of his recent humiliation, and the joy of his even more recent accumulation: An expensively embroidered wedding suit, which he had sliced with his scythe and sewn up (badly) to fit his pudgy little frame. Still beautiful, but now ridiculous because of its disfigurement, the Uman wedding suit was concealed by his deep black cloak. None had stopped him from taking it at the Pig's Snout. None had followed him, either. At least, not by night. His Night Eyes would have known. By day was another story...

And now, in the rising sun, faroff figures became fuzzy. He wondered who they might be? Just some guards, most likely. He had seen too much, and was too old and stubborn to care much for guards. If experience was a thing to go by, the sour little dwarf would tramp past them unmolested by anything bigger than laughter. Why did these Umans always think he looked so funny? Of course, that laughter was always cut short, strangled like a rabbit, when they saw his eyes...

By Dirge Skiæzo-Påno (Dirge)

Saturday, June 16, 2007 - 6:24 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Dirge crossed the bridge uneventfully into the Bridgewest stretch of Lorimar Road.

(TO:

Bridgewest)

By Imp (Imp)

Sunday, June 17, 2007 - 5:16 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"Stop! Turn it around! Turn it araaah-und! Moonshine rot yer brain!? Terajin's that-a way! Not THAT way... THAT WAY!"

Such were the admonishments given to the lead driver by the caravan master. Having gone through a confusing contraband check point at the Bridge, the driver got all turned around and was heading out the wrong gate.

The extra time milling around and reorganizing gave everyone a good chance to oggle the grim looking dwarf marching East like he was on a mission from God. Imp was particularly interested, he recognized a kindred spirit of sorts... so the imp-wolf ran up to Dirge to get a give him a sniffing and see what he could see. The wolf acted very freindly, with tail wagging happily, like he ran, by chance, into an old freind.

By Imp (Imp)

Monday, June 18, 2007 - 6:41 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Tail wagging, Imp (in his wolf form, which by no imagination is 'shifty-looking' or 'little') followed on the dwarf's heels.

Amanda jumped off the wagon. 'Bimp!', she called after Imp, his public identity, 'Bimp!... Darned stupid dog! ... Gon', we'll catch up!", she called the driver and set off after Imp.

Knowing she couldn't talk to Imp to see what he was up to while out in public, she followed at a distance.

(TO:

Bridgewest)

By Imp (Imp)

Saturday, July 21, 2007 - 5:46 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Bridgewest)


Imp entered from the direction of Bridgewest and proceeded straight for Zabarzh. Even though his stride was purposeful and energetic, it was quite easy to keep up with, even for the short-legged dwarf. For dwarves are only short-legged relative to Umans and the like, but they be long-legged relative to imps. Amanda had to walk slowly. It actually wasn't a natural gate, but she'd gotten used to walking with Imp.

(TO:

Zabarzh)

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Monday, January 14, 2008 - 4:35 am GMT | Edit | Link |

If he had elicited the odd odd look from passersby in his time of travel, Cian could not begin to guess the looks he received now. With bright rags dulled with dirty water and bits of grass, tanned cheeks flushed with flight, hair stragged and bedraggled from the cold wetness of his fall and the flight through the night that caused his blind gait to falter. He looked somewhat like a beggar, a dervish, a madman. And he only stopped and realized this when he smacked directly into the pack of some faceless pedestrian, who fell over with him and rolled on the dusted dirty ground.

A string of bright curses found themselves blessedly muffled by Cian's arm. Though when he removed it, the words sprung anew - colorful and loud enough to shock and amuse the lightly milling crowd around the two.

At the very least, it brought a pair of strong arms to suddenly shove all of the blood in the blind man's veins down into his feet as he was lifted off the ground and set on his feet. Light-headed and with his non-vision spinning, Cian had been about to thank the man with the loud armor when he realized that he hadn't been released. He must have arrived at the Bridge, then.

"No undue fuss," he suggested before he could be questioned. "Sincerest apologies to whoever I bumped into."

"Where yew going in such a hurry?" he heard the man gruffly ask, though in his tone sang a crystal melody of 'and where were yew running from.'

"Yew, actually," came his reply. "I was accosted while traveling sometime in the night." Alone and blind. Of course yew were accosted, yew idiot.

Perhaps the man did not realize that the man was truly blind until then. He obviously had not taken a good look before he had dragged Cian from the ground like an enemy keeping an enemy from a fight. There was no fight. There was a blind man fleeing from danger he did not know would not follow and a collision with a random person who had been in a blind man's way. And the guard was not stupid. It had not really been the first such occurrence in the night.

Arms released, and Cian found his staff handed back to him. With a nod to the guard he was able to locate with his returned senses, once more, Cian was on his way.

(TO:

Zabarzh)

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Thursday, April 3, 2008 - 9:39 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Zabarzh: Roadway Gate)



The Bridge practically teemed. Bodies moved back and forth at will, or simply passed with a traveler's contented passiveness along the flow of bone and muscle. A guardsman's meager entertainment. A wanderer's boon. A border's lifeblood. Varied and teeming as it was at any hour, a few more personages could not be missed. A few more round markings of hair to the soldiers above. A few more flashes of skin and color of cloth to those below. Among, around, surrounded, all. And yet even as it beat, it breathed.

There was breathing room here. Spaces between moving people opened and closed as a never ending puzzle. And while it presented delightful enough of a challenge to the sighted, it presented a possible problem to the blind. Could Cian hear his friend from those few hours before still harumphing at his post with every breath a gale of over-zealous boredom? With countless steps making countless circles of movement, he could not be exactly sure. It was nothing to concentrate on at the moment, at least, for those beside and behind him warranted attention enough.

Blind though he was, he still wended through the morass as if born to it. The drow ladies huddled together would have a harder time, he thought, and so he cleared the way for them and before them. Blind gesturing kept nice avenues open for the blind and his compatriots, even if it did garner a few odd looks from those who narrowly missed the 'accidental' questing probe of a staff.

His hand ever left behind, as if hovering over some unseen line that connected him to his companions behind. He led them as he could, further from the crowd and into open air that he could sense with every fiber of his being.

This way, he called silently. This way.

Away, please, from the fish.

(OOC:

Doot doot. Checking that yew are all still about.)

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Thursday, April 3, 2008 - 10:25 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Zeelin found a place at the side of the Bridge where Scotia could rest. "Here, just sit here and ... enjoy the sunshine." Did Drow enjoy sunshine? It was a stupid thing to say. Zeelin blushed and was glad that her skin was black so it wouldn't be (as) obvious.

She surveyed the Bridge. It was TOO BUSY! She'd never find some stupid single man from whose wagon could steal ... or, she'd find him, but she'd have no opportunity.

Zeelin wondered how Drow cursed.

(OOC:

I think we were all waiting on each other.)

By Loke (Loke)

Saturday, April 5, 2008 - 3:38 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Bridgewest)



Loke began walking across the bridge. The concentration of people had been easy to avoid on the road, but this was an unbearable choke-point of flesh. He pulled his hood down over his eyes and walked as inconspicuously as possible -- he wasn't particularly good at it, but it didn't seem to matter -- along the the northern side. Many people gave him a horrified or disgusted or angry, albeit fleeting, look. His white jaw with protriding teeth was more than enough for most people to understand that he was deserving of more than just a disgusted look; but they didn't have time to lynch him.

(OOC:

Not sure if the bridge is busy enough for any of yew to notice him, yew decide.)

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Saturday, April 12, 2008 - 3:53 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

(OOC:

Sure we will see yew, Loke! Welcome back to the crowd! Caught us as a slow moment, but don't worry.)


• • • • • • • • •

Amongst the throng entering the bridge from the east, a bright-red-painted wagon came trundling up, drawn by two black horses. It had a red-and-green-striped canvas cover, and on each side was painted a large solid white circle.

On the driver board sat a Drow, male, skinny, long-ng-ng pointed ears with gray hair growing out of them, and wisps of gray hair swept back over his high forehead. He wore a red tunic and green trousers.

Sighting Zeelin and Scotia, this Drow tugged the reins and brought his wagon to a stop. He spoke to Zeelin and Scotia, but the words were a recent Botharel dialect of Old Ufaerian (which still survives in the UnderNeath, despite tales that it's died).

Zeelin stared at him dumbly and tried to decide what to say.

Before she could speak, the Drow addressed Cian in the Common tongue. "I'll buy them from yew. How much for the pair? ... and if the goat girl is for sale as well, I'll take her. I pay in gold, mind! Name yer price, but be reasonable or I'll drive off."

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Saturday, April 12, 2008 - 4:52 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The laugh of greeting rang as bright as the swirl of color that accompanied the blind's flourished gesture. It was not insulting, nor overly merry, but one that spoke an exceedingly agreeable tone. Thus rising from his hunch against his staff, he turned to fully acknowledge the drow male with palms wide in a gesture of openness. A familiar and comfortable mask.

"The Gods look poorly on such hurried dealings, sir," he spoke with a smile. "What, if I might ask, would yew want them for?"

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Saturday, April 12, 2008 - 5:47 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The Drow wagoneer raised his wispy gray eyebrows and sat up straight in his seat. "What do yew care, what I want them for? ... Are yew trying to increase the price! ... Very well, I'll tell yew. I'll set them free. I ache to see my blood sisters in bondage. There. If yew are attached to them, yew needn't fear they'll be molested. Alright? Satisfied? I care more than yew, or yew'd not keep them. So sell them! I will pay a good price! But I'll not be cheated. My philanthropy must keep company in my purse. So name yer price, for the day advances, and I must to Terajin."

Zeelin's eyes went wide, then narrowed. This wagon was going their direction! But it was in Cian's hands, now. Zeelin could think of nothing to say that wouldn't ruin things.

By Effeminate Oriental Vampire (Takumi)

Saturday, April 12, 2008 - 7:11 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

While the proceedings with the drow on the cart were carrying on, Takumi spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. White patchy fur...much taller than most Umanoids...ah! Was that Loke?

[[Loke, my White Orcan friend!]] Takumi called out 'aloud,' edging away from the cart a little ways to try and see if it was indeed the same Loke. If not, Takumi figured he'd just made a great move to embarrass himself, but...no matter. The usage of 'friend' was a bit unfamiliar as well, and he sort of did a double take, as if realizing that, perhaps phrasing his statement as he had was quite possibly not...appropriate. Oh well.

While still gazing off in Loke's direction, Takumi kept an eye on the drow and his wagon, studying curiously the expressions on the faces of his 'companions,' and that of the 'third' drow.

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Sunday, April 13, 2008 - 10:25 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"Keep them?"

He couldn't help it. The words practically bubbled with laughter. With the sour tang of spell magick that dripped from every pore. With the sound of the larger one's bearing. With the knowledge of what those girl's small hands could do. It was, in the end, too hilarious an idea to keep up, even for a farce.

"I don't think any one could keep them, sir" he laughed. "Least of my humble self. But have a care, sir, to where yew hurry. It must lie a ruin for the battle it's seen in the wake of our retreat."

(OOC:

Keep in mind, if yew will, that blind boy knows nothing of where yer going or what yer doing, so do feel free to speak up He's just screwing around and found this funny.)

By Loke (Loke)

Sunday, April 13, 2008 - 1:49 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

There was no mistaking that voice. It astounded him how quickly he had found his friends, or been found by his friends as it were. He had been prepared to find them gone from Zabarzh and was ready to spend moneths tracking them down. The realization that he wouldn't need to -- due to this shocking manifestation of luck of being spotted -- threw him off balance and kept him walking for a number of steps before reacting.

He stopped and looked around. His eyes were drawn towards the odd combination of bright wagon and drow driver stopped in the middle of the bridge, and close to it he saw [[Takumi. Oh.]]

He nudged some helpless-looking travelers aside in what he thought was a polite manner -- refuted by their responsive behavior of falling down -- on his way towards the wagon. It looked like the drow driving the wagon was in some sort of negotiation or bartering with the people Takumi was with, if anything that was stranger than the wagon. [[Perhaps they have failed]] to notice that they are not in an entirely convenient location.

He walked up to Takumi and observed the proceedings.

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Thursday, April 17, 2008 - 1:34 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Zeelin shot Cian a glare .. which was useless, of course, and Zeelin blushed.

She ran through some scenarios in her head:She had an idea.

"Yew have it wrong, old brother," said Zeelin. "We're not the blind-man's slaves. We're slaves to a Baron in Terajin." Good gods! What was that slaver's name? Zeelin only hoped the old Drow wouldn't ask. "We're tithed, since birth," -- that was her excuse not to understand Botharel speech -- "from our Houses in Botharel, and, well, as the blind man said, there's been a war and we barely escaped with our lives! But if we don't return soon, our Houses will suffer shame and debt! We were going to walk ... but ... then we hoped to find a wagon ..."

Should she offer their services as guards?
Should she bat her eyelashes? (Was she attractive, as a Drow?)
Just get on the wagon ... buy time ... she'd think of something ...

By Effeminate Oriental Vampire (Takumi)

Thursday, April 17, 2008 - 9:12 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Takumi watched Loke approach, knocking down a few bridge goers in the process. Seeming to be amused by this, he placed a hand delicately over his mouth to hide the silent laughter bubbling up, instead smiling and bowing his head slightly towards Loke as he came over. [[Hello,]] was his simple greeting before returning his attention to the scene with the blind man, the drow wagon driver, and the drow-turned Zeelin. Listening to the story Zeelin cooked up, the vampire sighed, wondering if this was a common thing for her, to act out these elaborate lies. Her manner was of one who did this often, yet did not always succeed...

As they were standing about idly, their travel fare hinging on the foolishness of this drow man, Takumi sighed and stepped forwards, looking a tad impatient. [[Sir, might we just purchase passage? I will pay for the whole group, if you would accept it. I just wish for some shade to sit in. The surface's blinding sun is wearing my patience thin.]] His tone was simple and concise, and after putting in the request, he reached beneath the neckline of his kimono and extracted a couple of small gems that would cover more than five times the amount of passage he was trying to buy. Of course, the vampire did not know he had been overpaying people, but it wasn't as if the ones he was negotiating with would complain.

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 3:44 am GMT | Edit | Link |

The old Drow wagoneer drew back his head. "I'm not in that business," he said carefully, with a wary squint. "I wish yew all farewell."

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 3:46 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Zeelin jumped forward and grabbed for the bridle of one of the black horses. "Wait wait!" she said quickly.

Then carefully she said, "Just me and her" -- she pointed to Scotia. "Just take us two, old cousin. Alright? We'll cook and clean for yew."

The others would think Zeelin was abandoning them. She would have to think fast.

By Anonymous

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 4:02 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"I cook and clean for myself, girl!" said the wagoneer. Then his shoulders slumped. "Alright. Yew two Drow girls. Nobody else."

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 4:03 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Zeelin said, "May I say farewell to my friends?"

The wagoneer said, "Of course. But dally not."

Zeelin went to huddle with Cian, Takumi, Aster ... and Loke.

By Effeminate Oriental Vampire (Takumi)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 5:50 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

A short exchange, and Takumi looked rather put off by the wagoneer's abrupt refusal. But then Zeelin went on again with some sort of plotting, and once they were all sort of...uhm...'saying goodbye,' Takumi tilted his head and murmured privately into the others' minds (leaving the drow wagoneer out of course), [[You have a plan? I have a plan. Let the wagoneer escort you for a while, and we will follow until there are less people around. Then we may rid ourselves of the wagoneer in whatever fashion seems most desirable at the time.]]

Sweet and simple. Though, of course, the vampire doubted the others would want to agree. Still, he tightened his grip on his naginata in an irritated manner, his patience obviously wearing thinner and thinner with each passing moment of standing out here in the sun.

By Loke (Loke)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 - 6:01 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

[[Good plan.]] He looked at Takumi gripping his sword. [[Just don't take all the fun for yerself.]]

By Surface-Raised Drow (Scotia)

Saturday, April 26, 2008 - 6:31 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Scotia was nearly vacant. She was no longer dazed, certainly, but as little as she could contribute to any discussion or negotiation with no voice, she found her focus better turned inward. It wasn't to say that she heard nothing, so much as she paid little attention and gave less reaction. Her mind was on her wounds -- considering the heat of the magick she still felt in her ruined hands and the damage done to her throat. She tested her ankles frequently, finding them weak and painful in movement, but checking again and again as though hoping each time that she had simply been mistaken before.

As Zeelin stepped back to plot with the others, she remained with the other drow as much out of desire not to walk more than necessary as to assure the driver that they were still coming, supporting her weight as much as she could on the wagon's side.

It was probably a good thing she was so distracted. If her mind had actually processed the fact that she was about to go with a member of her own race, she would have likely injured her ankles and possibly lost the ability to walk at all in a desperate attempt to flee. As it was, the only thought she had regarding their departure was an idle wondering about how she would cook or clean with bandaged hands.

(OOC:

Sorry so little posting, guys. Computer is broken, and I'm having a devil of a time getting it repaired.)

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Sunday, April 27, 2008 - 5:31 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Had the blind man had eyes, they would have curved curious on the scheming warrior. But of eyes, he thought not, and only met her return with a smirk and the hint of a red brow that crept above green cloth. This was a crafty one, for sure. In all her deceit, did she ever speak truth? Mayhap she had lost some of the ability to know it herself. Such was always a sad thing.

But planning and plans. It was simple enough, and Cian nodded his head in the impatient one's direction.

With the drow girl as incapacitated as she seemed, it would be impractical to try to carry her for long distances. Again. This time, they did not flee a harassed city. And yet. Now Zeelin wished to return. It was something passing strange, but a step was a step and spoke for itself as nothing more.

Still, he only smiled, and threw in his vote with the silk-robed.

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Monday, May 12, 2008 - 3:54 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Zeelin said to the group, "Find me on the road, on the other side of the river." She kept her voice low so the old Drow would not hear.

She gave a pain-filled glance at Arleen. Zeelin knew well, such partings can often be the last. Anything could happen. Her jaw ached: she was clenching her teeth. She tore her gaze away from the satyroi.

Then, taking Scotia's hand, she climbed aboard the old Drow's wagon.

By (Looks Like A Drow) Uman Rangeress (Zeelin)

Monday, May 12, 2008 - 3:59 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

"My name is Urul," said the old Drow, "once of Heivar clan, but now ... independent." He added, "Druuky no leevo?"

Zeelin said curtly, "I told yew: we've been here since birth. We don't know the UnderNeath tongues. I'm Zeelin. This is Scotia."

The wagoneer gave them both a long stare. Then he snapped his reins and the two black horses surged forward. With a rattle, the wagon moved across the bridge and past Zabarzh.

(TO:

The Terajin Shadowpath)

By Loke (Loke)

Monday, May 12, 2008 - 7:05 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Loke glanced at the others and with litle ado mingled with the stream of travelers filling the wake of the carriage.

(TO:

The Terajin Shadowpath)

By Surface-Raised Drow (Scotia)

Friday, May 16, 2008 - 3:58 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"No, I never learned," Scotia nearly responded. Still several degrees the far side of "distant," the word would have slipped out if her thoat had still worked. Removed, though, it was not because she had worked out what they had been asked, as Zeelin likely had. Rather, the words had simply processed without a thought. For the first time since her infancy, she had heard the language of her people, and the words had made sense.

She twitched; awareness returned. Fear stirred within her again as her eyes settled on the man from whom they were taking assistance, but this time she did not try to run or scream.

Dark lips parted, paused, and then closed.

By Cian Adair - Blind Singer of the Winds (Cian)

Tuesday, May 20, 2008 - 5:11 am GMT | Edit | Link |

The blind man stood silent, red hair pressed to the sturdy wood of his staff. Ear nearly flattened to the round surface as if to sense movement from afar. But his face did not change, and he did not move to follow the orcan for some time. He only stood, a steady sense against the growing and ebbing tides of willful Umanity, which for the moment parted as if around some unconscious barrier that surrounded him.

It was as something seen from the corner of the eye, and disregarded.

It was curious.

When Cian finally moved his feet, it was as in an instant. The fickle wind would dance upon snow-drifted ground, though here the white had been hard-packed and turned brown by uncareful heels.

"Come come," wove his voice to any of the group left behind, and his steps drove him towards the ones ahead.

TO: The Terajin Shadowpath

By Arleen (An_albino_satyroi)

Sunday, May 25, 2008 - 5:01 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Arleen continued to play her flute as they walked across the bridge. As Zeelen tried to think of a way to speed up there travel. Perhaps Zeelin did not like the journey as much as she Arleen did the slow pace of walking was nice yew could look around and see what is going on and see how the land changes as yew move. Or it could be that Zeelin feared her masters wrath if she did not move as fast as she could. Arleen was going to help free Zeelin from that fate.
The approaching cart brought back the memories of the last one. And this cart had yet another drow on it. There seemed to be a lot of them and non of them seemed to be bad like the stories and every ones talking mad yew think. Arleen pt way her flute and watched the chatter commence between everyone. It was sad to have Zeelin leave her and Arleen really did not want to go back to the barren.
Arleen watched Zeelin ride off in the wagon and she walked behind everyone to fallow it.

(TO:

The Terajin Shadowpath)

By Effeminate Oriental Vampire (Takumi)

Monday, August 11, 2008 - 12:41 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

The Terajin Shadowpath)



Takumi had shuffled on down the well traveled road without incident, and as he walked over the bridge, he took the time to gaze out thoughtfully over the railing, his eyes following the water currents as they moved on down to the sea beyond. The unexplainable urge to climb up onto the railing and jump into the water suddenly overcame him. Was it his hopelessness for his existence? The knowledge that he was devoid of any sort of purpose at all? Perhaps it was just simple boredom. Such suicidal thoughts spawned from boredom were nothing new, after all...

Whatever the case, he soon found himself crawling over the side of the structure, crouched momentarily on the edge, teetering back and forth before toppling off into the waters below, a graceful image of fluttering silk and swirling ebony locks.

(TO:

...?)

By Rigel (Rigel)

Sunday, December 28, 2008 - 7:52 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The days had been long as Rigel had taken a full three days to cover this last streth of road in what should have been a comfortable day ride and very easy two day ride. Tonight, he would spend it in Zabarzh

By The Wandering Healer (Praetor)

Friday, March 27, 2009 - 2:18 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Bridgewest)


The wanderer strolled down the Lorimar at a leisurely pace, his walking stick leaving a lazy trail in the dust of the road. As was often the case, he hummed a strange, lilting melody as he walked along.

By The Wandering Healer (Praetor)

Saturday, March 28, 2009 - 1:15 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Despite the rush of foot traffic across the bridge, the wanderer slipped off to the side to lean against the railing. As travelers, merchants, and wanderers alike made haste behind him, the healer stared peacefully into the rushing waters, a contemplative smile on his lips.

By The Wandering Healer (Praetor)

Wednesday, April 1, 2009 - 10:31 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

After an hour or two, the healer eased himself off of the railing and continued on his way. He whistled as he walked, a bright, cheerful tune of unknown origin.

He made his way to the riverport... it was swiftly approaching midday, and it was soon to be time for lunch.

(TO:

Zabarzh)

By The Curse of Seven Oaks (Irihi)

Monday, October 11, 2010 - 11:10 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Lorimar 10)

Irihi appeared underneath the bridge; out of sight of the guards and traffic. It wasn't that Witches couldn't cross running water, it was just that the couldn't do it whilst emotionally distraught and travelling via sorcery. Why had she said all that? She had only meant to level a few blood-drawing jabs at Trask and maybe stir the new girl's pot a bit.

Unhappy thoughts twisting at her pout, she sat and stared morosely at the water, not nearly as angry as she needed to be.

And time slipped away, just like the turgid waters of the Uiopa.

By Little Half-Demon (Nashyaala)

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 - 12:34 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"Miss Spokelse?"

It was a child's voice, light and melodious, unheralded by any sort of perceptible approach--though a slight jerk in reality might alert the necromancer to the speaker's location.

Which was directly behind her.

She was an unnaturally pretty child, and curiously familiar--her catlike eyes a light amber hue, the hair cascading over her small frame a sheeny, silvery white. Her hands were folded behind her, her lips parted in tiny, fang-toothed grin.

"Yew are Miss Spokelse . . .? Mister Blank told me to fetch yew. He said yew called him." She nodded eagerly, a little bit shy. "I can take yew to him. It isn't far." She studied the elfmaid briefly, and her smile faded, giving way to wide-eyed concern. "Are yew quite all right, Miss Spokelse? Yew look so sad."

By The Curse of Seven Oaks (Irihi)

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 - 12:54 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Irihi's already creased brow furrowed further as she raised a mirrored ovular film of water from the Uiopa and regarded the reflection of the disturbingly-familiar child. For a moment, she mistook the girl and was about to utter an acerbic challenge to Blank.

But no, the child was real enough, for that was the purpose of the magick mirror. Well, that and laziness. And Irihi could guess why the shapeshifter had chosen her to fetch the sorceress. "He did, did he?" She asked without turning, whilst slipping on the ring. If the warping of the worlde frightened the child, Irihi would be sorry, but not as sorry as she would have been moments before. This Mister Blank; Irihi could not remember if he had introduced himself before; was exceedingly good at pushing buttons it seemed. Well good. Now was the time that Irihi wanted them pushed.

"Do not many sad souls call upon Mister Blank?" Irihi stood, making a show of dusting off her cloak. "Lead on then, Child. Let us not keep him waiting."

By Little Half-Demon (Nashyaala)

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 - 1:19 am GMT | Edit | Link |

The girl did not react visibly to the twisting of reality . . . though she did appear perplexed at the elfmaid's cryptic answer. She tilted her head musingly, then responded presently with a shrug and a little nod. "This way," she said lightly, and turned, agilely mounting the embankment to the road above.

Now that the child's hands were visible, Irihi might note tiny claws extending from the tender digits.

(TO:

Zabarzh)

By Harbinger of Doom (Irihi)

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 - 1:24 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Irihi thought briefly about glamoring herself. It would not surprise her if word of the disturbances in and around Terajin had reached the bridge and its guards. Rather than a disguise, Irihi decided to allow her ghostly nature to render her almost wholly invisible. For perhaps the first time since she had regained her hidden memories, Irihi did not much feel like killing.

(TO:

Zabarzh.)

By Blank the Counterfeit (Blank)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 - 1:38 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

Zabarzh: West Star Inn)


An elegant carriage, carved of ebony and reinforced with steel, rolled out of Zabarzh and sped across the Bridge. Its shutters were largely closed, with only one smoked-glass window visible to offer the riders a hint of the worlde outside. Four horses pulled the carriage at full tilt and an almost supernatural pace; the ride to Greater Daelows would not take long.

Blank had taken the seat by the window; beside him sat the same cloaked figure he had appeared with in the buryer's yard. Irihi could see her hands now, slender, delicate, and a dead white shade unworn by the surface races. The young catling, apparently, was to take her seat beside the Elfwitch, opposite the shapeshifter and the cloaked woman beside him.

Once they were all in the carriage and well on their way, Blank drew his hood back, revealing the same handsome lines and dark charm that he had worn in The Pit. "Well, then. I suppose introductions are in order.

"You have, of course, met young Nashyaala," the shapeshifter said, gesturing towards the girl beside Irihi. "And this is my associate, Kallyx."

By Kallyx the Retrograde (Kallyx)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 - 2:32 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The slender hands slipped upwards to the neck of the heavy cloak to undo the clasp that held it together. As the cowl and cloth fell away, it revealed a startlingly pale-skinned woman, her hair as glossedly black as the chitinous plates that lined her shoulders and arms. She was clad in snug-fitting leathers, cut in no fashion to be protective, but rather provocatively fashionable. Her glowing red eyes were fixed on the Elfwitch as she drew her painted-black lips back in as friendly a smile as she could manage; her wicked fangs seemed to shine with a venomous sheen.

Four fearsome spike-tipped limbs, not unlike TonDen's extraneous arms, stretched luxuriously as they were freed from the Araneaeid's cloak.

"Kallyx the Retrograde, honey," she said. Her voice was soft and smooth as silk as she winked at Irihi. "I'm a fan."

By Harbinger of Doom (Irihi)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 - 5:28 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Irihi regarded this new multi-limbed creature with mild interest. Was she, perhaps, a result of the mad experiments of Orn Öhini, or perhaps he and his followers had simply forged a path between her people’s worlde and the surface. “Charmed, I’m sure.” It was barely a whisper, but the glass panes of the carriage still vibrated with the way the worlde twisted around every word. This spidery woman was not an unattractive monster, nor was Blank so displeasing in certain forms, and Irihi wondered at what unnatural law seemed to be at play to equate evil and beauty. She sensed from all in the carriage a strong attachment to the darkness. Except perhaps in the case of the youthful Catling, her’s was simply an incipient potential still.

In any case, it was refreshing not to guard her nature as she must needs around proponents of order and light. The slightest hint of murder always set do-gooder’s tongues a wagging and swords a-swinging. It was a pleasure to keep more pragmatic company for a change.

Irihi thought about asking where they were bound or what Blank’s (or his master’s) plan. Yet, why bother? He would tell her in his own good time or he would not. Meanwhile, Irihi decided to simply enjoy the ride and present company. She let her eyes roam quite unabashedly over Kallyx’s form, lips holding the slightest of smiles. Blank’s features might be counterfeit, but the same could not be said for the Retrograde.

By Little Half-Demon (Nashyaala)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 - 7:47 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Nashyaala had been gazing unobtrusively at Irihi for the duration of the ride thus far, a quiet curiosity in her mien. Now, at last, the girl spoke. "Something's coming for yew, isn't it? It's very close. I can feel its breath every time yew speak." Her expression was mild, her round eyes thoughtful. Irihi would note that the child had changed, now that they were hidden from strangers' eyes. Her irises had deepened to a vivid crimson; a forked tail and a pair of bat-like wings now protruded from her backside. "I can help yew with that, yew know. Reason with it, perhaps--or simply stopper it. Put it off for a time." She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Not forever, mind yew, in either case," added the demonspawn quickly. "There is no power in this worlde or beyond that can stand in the way of a Reckoning." She considered for a moment, smiling distantly; then nodded to herself as though reaching some sort of internal agreement.

"Mister Blank says yew know him," she continued blithely--an abrupt change of subject. "The man we're going to kill."

By Harbinger of Doom (Irihi)

Thursday, October 14, 2010 - 12:35 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Irihi turned her attention the Nashyaala as the child spoke. Oddly enough, her presence mellowed Irihi, for she was a reminder of what Irihi could never have given Trask. She would have to make sure the girl was not present for what was to come. It was not that the spectre cared to spare Nashyaala from uncomprehendingly witnessing her sire's death, but rather that she could not tolerate anyone or anything which would cause her to consider giving quarter or pollute the jealousy, hatred, and rage which would fuel her.

"No, dearheart, I think that this Reckoning has been put off long enough. Yet I think perhaps I still have a little time left for murder." She smiled not unkindly at the girl, though her words belied the gentleness of the expression. "And yes, I do know him, more's the pity. He is a great and powerful beast; more than a man, and it will be no easy task to lay him low."

By Kallyx the Retrograde (Kallyx)

Thursday, October 14, 2010 - 12:53 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Kallyx was not oblivious to the Elfwitch's appreciative perusal, nor was she averse to it. It seemed her boss was fixed on acquiring some serious talent - judging from the way the windows shook when she talked, this Irihi was as messed up as they were. She smiled her wickedly fanged smirk as she obliged the sorceress' attentions; a little trace of a black-nailed finger here, a tilt of her chest there, a subtle twist of her hips and a little kick of her spike-heeled boots. By the Dark, this job is fun, she mused.

But the little girl interrupted the Araneaeid's flirting; Kallyx didn't particularly mind. There would be plenty of time for that later, after all, and the young half-demon had been a fascinating addition to the team ever since their collective master had introduced her. There had been no doubt as to the girl's lineage... either side of it, really. Nashyaala was so cute, and still so deliciously spooky. The chronomancer loved it.

And so Kallyx settled back comfortably in her seat as the carriage rumbled on, her fingers flexing as she peered out of Blank's window.

(TO:

Lorimar 9: Bridgewest)

By Little Half-Demon (Nashyaala)

Thursday, October 14, 2010 - 1:23 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

"As yew wish." Nashyaala shrugged and kicked her feet absently, hands folded in her lap as she peered out the tiny window.

She returned her attention to Irihi at the elfwitch's next pronouncement, mirroring the proffered smile with a fang-toothed grin of her own. She liked the spooky elf-lady. "That's what Mister Blank said. And that he's a psion, like me. And like our employer." The word 'employer' was emphasized; one might suspect it was a recent vocabulary acquisition she was trying on for size.

The girl's gaze drifted to the window again, her expression mild. "I think it will be fun," she announced, with a barely contained eagerness. "I've never met another one."

(OOC:

Following)

By Harbinger of Doom (Irihi)

Thursday, October 14, 2010 - 3:57 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Irihi's brow rose a a fraction of an inch. "Oh? And what sort of payment do you take for your role in all this?" Irihi asked the girl. The question might seem patronizing, but she was genuinely interested. While her own motivation was ostensibly pure revenge, she wondered at what manner of bribe brought the others in their party together.

(TO:

Bridgewest)

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Monday, April 11, 2011 - 2:46 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(FROM:

The River Coastline)


Low thumping sounds preceded a tall armored figure approaching the bridge from the river coastline. As it neared closer, it appeared to be a Uman knight...with an enormous maul set across his shoulders. He walked along with both hands free, his wrists were resting upon the shaft of the over-sized bludgeon. At his right hip was what looked like a very large dagger. His armor and weapons had a dark uniform shade of tan. It resembled sand or some sort of mineral-like substance. He simply kept on walking, the sound of his approach echoing louder and louder.

(OOC:

If anyone would like to join in as an NPC for Eroydyn's first encounter with Umans, I would greatly appreciate it )

By Anonymous

Monday, April 11, 2011 - 8:05 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

A rickety cart rattled it's way along the path leading to the bridge, a somewhat unkempt farmer sat in the driving position with a younger boy next him. In a somewhat typical appearance the map was wearing a straw hat and had a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth which he was busy chewing on.

"'Ere Jeb, wha' be ahead?"

The boy, presumably called Jeb looked at the stone-like monstrosity (which currently had it's back to the 2-donkey pulled cart, the donkies were only kept from biting each-other by the carrot that dangled in front of each of them) and shrugged.

"I dunno Pa"

The farmer pulled the straw out of his mouth and tucked it over his ear and passing the riens to his son for a moment he cupped his hand round his mouth and called out.

"Oi you great loot, yer blockin' th' path, git ut th' way!"

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Monday, April 11, 2011 - 11:51 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

What was that? he wondered. The bipedal abnormality turned around upon hearing the sound of the man's shout. It spotted the two farmers, it returned their gaze. They don't look like orcs...they're certainly loud like orcs. Magnus had once told me I was made in the image of a Uman. May as well find if they are.

After several moments the creature began walking toward the farmers, disrupting the relative serenity of the area as it moved.

By Anonymous

Tuesday, April 12, 2011 - 6:38 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

"Pa, it 'eard us"

The father flicked his hat up and looked at his son.

"Aye Jeb, i'll say 'ee did, don' look righ' for a man tho'"

He pulled on the reins slowign the donkies into a stop, they were a bit nervous about the mountain of a man, to them the hulking stone creature did not smell alive and thus they were not sure how they should react.

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Wednesday, April 13, 2011 - 1:51 am GMT | Edit | Link |

As Erodyn walked to within 30 feet of the pair, he was thinking, How do Umans greet each other again?...I think it was something like "Hello" or "Hi" but...how do I pronounce it? He pondered a few moments more trying to remember. The golem decided it was worth the attempt. "Hello," he said, though what came from the giant suit of armor was entirely different. It was a loud groan that sounded like the rumblings warning of an impending earthquake.

By Anonymous

Saturday, April 16, 2011 - 7:47 am GMT | Edit | Link |

With the loud groaning issue forth from the stone giant the farmer and son knew immediately what to do.....or at least what to try to do.

Trouble is that donkies are not know for their speed or reliability in the face of danger or urgency and thus a comical situation ensued of the Farmer spurring the donkies to move forward at the fastest pace they could muster and instead got a light trot.

It wasn't that the donkies didn't hear Erodyn's wail, it was more that they weren't particuarly concerned by it. The farmer and son however were at this point panicked.

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Saturday, April 16, 2011 - 5:08 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Erodyn took the sudden charge with surprise. This is how Umans greet one another? It's a shame I can't run like their four-legged beasts of burden. May as well try to reciprocate. The stone giant implacably marched toward the oncoming wagon.

By Anonymous

Monday, April 25, 2011 - 5:34 am GMT | Edit | Link |

It was perhaps the slowest escape scene ever, the donkey pulled cart attempting to speed past a lumbering stone giant. At this point it was unclear if the farmer and son would succesfully escape.

However they did rattle past the giant wit hthe cart in danger of shaking itself apart as it was not designed even for the slow pace it was going at.

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Wednesday, April 27, 2011 - 2:49 am GMT | Edit | Link |

The golem watched as the wagon made its attempt to circumvent him. A rumbling incomprehensible bellow erupted from the creature as they coasted alongside of him. The noise was indeed adding to the already terrifying situation. Only Erodyn understood what he said, Hey! he yelled, Where are you going?

By Anonymous

Tuesday, May 3, 2011 - 12:34 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Curiously something about that particular sound made the Donkies spooked and they put on a burst of speed, rattling the cart even more than it already was.

The farmer and son bounced along away from the stone giant, the roaring monster had been avoided, but it had been a close call and quite some story to tell the village!

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Wednesday, May 4, 2011 - 12:43 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Erodyn knew there was no chance of him catching up to the runaway wagon. He turned around, looking back toward the bridge and ventured closer. Upon closer inspection, the golem saw the bridge was constructed of a material he was quite familiar with. That looks like granite. Pondering this a bit more, he began to draw conclusions based on logical deduction inherent to those who lived under a rock. Maybe one of my brothers or sisters survived and is now in hiding. The more he thought about it the more it made sense...only to him. What a clever disguise, to conceal oneself as a bridge! Who would think to look there.

Making a leap of faith in terms of thought, Erodyn rumbled his way over to the bridge, he bellowed loudly at the guardsmen overseeing the passageway.

By The Daelows (Peoples_guard)

Wednesday, May 4, 2011 - 2:51 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(OOC:

Which way art thou headed, oh stony one? Towards Daelows or Terajin?)

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Wednesday, May 4, 2011 - 6:25 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

(OOC:

Toward Daelows Kingdom, I'm looking to join up with Ihiri in Kiana)

By The Daelows (Peoples_guard)

Thursday, May 5, 2011 - 3:23 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The guards looked at each other after the huge, heavily-armed stone giant rumbled past, bellowing and shaking the ground with his footsteps. "I didn't see anything, did yew?"

"Nope."

By Erodyn, the Granite Golem (Erodyn)

Friday, May 6, 2011 - 3:12 am GMT | Edit | Link |

(OOC:

Funniest mental image ever.)



Erodyn walked up to one of the granite pillars and inspected it. This is most definitely not Dwarven... He ran his hand along the surface, Such poor craftsmanship. These tool marks that haven't been polished off. Is it so hard to make a proper bridge? Shrugging and finding the architecture uninteresting as it did not contain a fellow stone sibling, he continued along heading into the water beneath the bridge. Later, he emerged upon the other side of the river heading toward the road to the Daelows.

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