Gods & Men: The Ancient Myths: Chapter 1 IC Thread

[Johnny Blaze]

Cy-Spar walked down the narrow corridor of his family's compound. Purple lichen lit up the hall, showing off the ornately carved designs depicting many forms of spiders and symbols of Lolth.

Pushing into a door shaped like a giant web, Cy-Spar marched down the dark velvet carpet and knelt down, bowing his head.

"You wished to see me, Matron?"

"I did, my son", Matron Chessirae smiled devilishly as she shifted in her throne.

"I have a job for you. One in which your 'unique' talents are perfect for."

"What would you have me do", Cy-Spar asked, his eyes still locked to the floor.

"Our spies indicate that House Faerbuk has sent an emissary to the city of Thra'kt'tr."

Cy-Spar wince at the mention of the city's name.
Illithids. How he hated the disgusting creatures.

"They cannot be allowed to forge an alliance with the Mind Flayers. If they do, then they will hold a significant advantage over us. It would not be long after such an alliance that they would make their move to wipe us out."

"It must be us that allies with the Illithids. Us that uses such an alliance to utterly destroy House Faerbuk once and for all, and become the second House of Haundrauth. You will escort your sister, Jadzia, to Thra'kt'tr to negotiate a pact with the Illithids. And you will make sure that the Faerbuk emissary never reaches the city."

"As you command, Matron Chessirae", Cy-Spar respectfully said as he bowed his head.

The Matron Mother's eyes narrowed, and her beautiful face went suddenly cold.
"This is most important, boy. Do not fail me."

"I won't, Matron."

"Good", she relaxed back in her throne.
"You may go."

Cy-Spar stood and bowed one last time before turning and exiting the throne room. As the spider web-designed door closed behind him, Cy-Spar sneered and cursed under his breath.
He did not want to travel to the Illithid city. Much less with his older sister Jadzia. She was a sadistic woman, prone to sudden violent outbursts with no rhythm or reason.
He would never forget the beatings he received from her snake-headed whip while he was growing up. The scars on his back were forever a reminder of Lolth's cruelty and chaotic nature.

Cy-Spar sighed as he entered his room. He just hoped that this task would be over as soon as possible.

 

[twylight]

Aithne followed the men quietly, silently thankful the corridors were large enough to allow for her to continue riding Brion. He was the only familiar thing and her comfort level was pushed to it's maximum. She sat quietly as one man babbled on about being in the school, and talking to a portrait on the wall which she looked at it in awe. She'd never seen anything like it before. Brion continued the man with the strange sword at her side as they entered a large room.

This was amazing. She'd never seen a room so large. Exits were on all sides and the ceiling arced up high above them making it look like they were under the inside of a giant bubble. A large gaping hole in the roof let a beam of light stream through it. If she could imagine the inside of a Sidhe it would have been like the roof above them. Slowly bringing her eyes down she took in the large columns before noticing the dead plants. She shuddered, she wasn't a druid however the sight of what would have been the only green in the area caused her discomfort.

"Are you all right"

She turned her head to the voice.

"Yes I-" her eyes caught sight of his arm and the quickly created bandage.
"Your arm!" she slid off Brion's back and stood for a moment, her legs acclimating to standing after a day's ride. Her shyness dispersing at the sight of the injuries she stepped forward. Healing first, questions later. And she had a lot of questions.

The man who'd been next to Brion spoke and he and the blonde one barricaded the doors quickly. As soon as they stopped she crossed to them.

"Let me see your arm, please?" She asked tentatively. She didn't know if he even wanted her help. Not to mention she'd never seen injuries like this before, she held her hand out.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"As you wish", Rothgar replied after a moment's pause, and the woman began to inspect the bite wound.

"What is your name, girl? And how did you come to be in such a cursed place?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Kelvamin raised an eyebrow and looked at the Docktore.

"Master alchemist, you are Massamo Giovanni's son?" he said, unable to keep the tone of surprise out of his voice. He had heard tales of the White Wizard as far back as his boyhood, though he now assumed that many of them were probably greatly exaggerated, as his own stories had become. That this man was his offspring was...interesting at the very least.

"Massamo was my grandfather. He was still headmaster here at the time of my...ahem...rejection."

"I have a question," Kelvamin asked the group "how do we know where the Lich-King lies?"

The rumours amongst the fleeing survivors making their way away from the ruined city of Athens spoke of a rotting wizard, summoning the undead and a dragon razing the city to the ground. They all appeared shuddered with an undefinable fear, and he thanked them profusely before he made his way to the dead city.

"That is a good question, one that I might know the answer to." The Docktore says as he unscrolls a piece of dirty parchment.

"In my travels around the world, I have managed to draw a map or two."

He says as he passes the map to his assistant for holding.

"Here is Athens. Judging from the path of their carnage, the army in question travelled a north route."

Pulling his compass out, The Docktore starts to draw a route upwards from Greece.

"Based on the time of their arrival, and the rumors of Athens destruction, it took them almost a week's time to reach Athens."

He remains silent as he stares at the map and runs the calculations in his head.

"...Bavaria...or possibly Rhineland....that is where this army and their Lich-King are."

 

[twylight]

Aithne inspected his arm, carefully turning his it over in her hand. A Hell Hound bite....her mind wandered briefly to the old stories before she drew it back to the injury in front of her. It looked like a normal dog bite, just larger. She put her index finger up and drew water to it before gently working it into the wound and pulling it out to clean it.


"What is your name, girl? And how did you come to be in such a cursed place?"

She blushed and focused on her task, it was second-nature to focus on simple skills like this while talking. The harder more complex battle skills Aad had taught her over the last few weeks took more focus.

"Aithne Ó Ciardubháin, I am from Eriu in the west." She glanced at the man who'd spoken her language before looking at the man who's arm she tended, returning to cleaning it. She paused thinking about how she'd answer this. 'Saving my land' seemed like such a silly answer despite the fact that Aad had told her that.
"I was sent with my..." she searched for the correct word.
"..Kinsman to find help. The Otherworld is restless and I witnessed it destroy the western coast of my country. We were told these events were influenced by something originating from this area."

Taking the used water she floated it to the nearby plant and dropped it in the ground there before pulling out her salve and gently placing some along the injury. The earthy smell reminded her of home and she forced back a tear before intently focusing on the the water in his body. Gathering it around the injured area, causing the skin and tissues to move and shift, closing itself around the holes.

"What has happened here? What are those things?" She looked up, it was not fully healed, the body must complete the rest, however it was well on it's way.

She looked at the other man with an injury expectantly.

 

[Catman_prb]

"Based on the time of their arrival, and the rumors of Athens destruction, it took them almost a week's time to reach Athens."

He remains silent as he stares at the map and runs the calculations in his head.

"...Bavaria...or possibly Rhineland....that is where this army and their Lich-King are."

Kelvamin dragged his worried gaze from the Irish girl to the Docktor and raised a single eyebrow.

"Very impressive master alchemist," he said slowly "But what if your estimations are wrong? If we were in Bavaria, and then found that the Lich-King is not present, we'd be so far away from the lair that it could take months or even years to find the monster's location,"

The celtic swordsman brushed his bound hair over his shoulder and sat on the edge of one of the remaining tables.

"I have faith in you my learned friend," he said mildly "but I merely play the Devil's Advocate,"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar smiled, "You've never left you land before, have you?"

"Those were undead, the remains of those slain in Athens brought back to "life" by unholy power. This city has become a haven to them as well as a host of other vile creatures it seems."

"My thanks, Aithne", Rothgar says as she finishes dressing his wound.
"I am Rothgar, it is a pleasure to meet you", he smiled with a respectful nod.

 

[twylight]

"You've never left you land before, have you?"

Aithne shook her head.
"No." "and I wish I didn't have to." she finished the thought in silence.

"Those were undead, the remains of those slain in Athens brought back to "life" by unholy power. This city has become a haven to them as well as a host of other vile creatures it seems."

"My thanks, Aithne",

"I am Rothgar, it is a pleasure to meet you", he smiled with a respectful nod.

"Thank you." she answered with a smile, not quite knowing how else to reply, listening to the two men talking. One seemed an academic and quite smug, the other was lean and had some grasp of her language. They were discussing things she didn't know about, the lean one in askance to the one he called an alchemist.
Turning to Rothgar she asked.
"This Litch, he is the power behind everything?"

 

[Catman_prb]

"What has happened here? What are those things?" She looked up, it was not fully healed, the body must complete the rest, however it was well on it's way.

She looked at the other man with an injury expectantly.

Kelvamin stepped forwards to the Irish girl, smiling a little as he thought of the home he had once known, when he was not even an apprentice. He brushed his bound hair over his shoulder and started to unwind the bloodied cloth that had made his makeshift bandage. He winced, the pack leader's talons had rended deeper into his arm than he himself had thought which may have gone some way to explain the dizziness he was feeling now.

"I am Kelvamin, lady Aithne," the swordsman said, gritting his teeth in attempt to alleviate the pain surging through him "And it saddens me to hear of the damage wreaked on your land. I was once a clansman, from the West of my own country. When it was a clear day I believed that I could see all the way to Eriu itself, though my peers mocked me. My mentor took me there the day I left my homeland. I'm afraid I only know a few words of your tongue. Although I regret that you have to be here, it gladdens me to see someone so close to home,"

He hissed as the air blew over his open wound.

"Thankyou, éinín," he smiled.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"You've never left you land before, have you?"

Aithne shook her head.
"No." "and I wish I didn't have to." she finished the thought in silence.

"Those were undead, the remains of those slain in Athens brought back to "life" by unholy power. This city has become a haven to them as well as a host of other vile creatures it seems."

"My thanks, Aithne",

"I am Rothgar, it is a pleasure to meet you", he smiled with a respectful nod.

"Thank you." she answered with a smile, not quite knowing how else to reply, listening to the two men talking. One seemed an academic and quite smug, the other was lean and had some grasp of her language. They were discussing things she didn't know about, the lean one in askance to the one he called an alchemist.
Turning to Rothgar she asked.
"This Litch, he is the power behind everything?"

"It would appear so", Rothgar replied.
"And that does not bode well for us. A lich is a powerful undead sorcerer. They are notoriously difficult to destroy."

"Which begs the question", Rothgar spoke to the group, "where do we go from here? Obviously if the lich has command of a dragon flight then other kingdoms must be warned. Armies must be raised."

 

[Byrd Man]

"Which begs the question", Rothgar spoke to the group, "where do we go from here? Obviously if the lich has command of a dragon flight then other kingdoms must be warned. Armies must be raised."

"I could raise my family. I come from a long line of white wizards, almost all of whom walked through these halls in their younger days."

Pulling out a stone, The Docktore shows it to the group.

"My father gave this to me when I set out on my journey, saying that I could use it when I needed him. In the ten years since, I have yet to touch it...but not would be a good time to call home."

 

[twylight]

Kelvamin stepped forwards to the Irish girl, smiling a little as he thought of the home he had once known, when he was not even an apprentice. He brushed his bound hair over his shoulder and started to unwind the bloodied cloth that had made his makeshift bandage. He winced, the pack leader's talons had rended deeper into his arm than he himself had thought which may have gone some way to explain the dizziness he was feeling now.

"I am Kelvamin, lady Aithne," the swordsman said, gritting his teeth in attempt to alleviate the pain surging through him "And it saddens me to hear of the damage wreaked on your land. I was once a clansman, from the West of my own country. When it was a clear day I believed that I could see all the way to Eriu itself, though my peers mocked me. My mentor took me there the day I left my homeland. I'm afraid I only know a few words of your tongue. Although I regret that you have to be here, it gladdens me to see someone so close to home,"

He hissed as the air blew over his open wound.

"Thankyou, éinín," he smiled.

Aithne's face lit up. His voice.. he was obviously from Briton, the land to the East. His features bore Celtic and she noticed the blood had drained slightly from his face. Placing her finger tips on his forehead she pulled the water upwards in his body to lighten the headiness he must be feeling. She took his arm and quickly summoned more water to her from the air before focusing on her task.

"Thank you. It is good to see someone from the same area. When we went through Briton seemed to be untouched."
Brion stomped a foot silently in the air and shook his head. Repeating what she'd done with Rothgar's arm she dropped the water used to clean the wound in a nearby plant and started on the delicate task of moving his body's water to aid the healing. She smiled, finishing the healing as Rothgar spoke, giving Kelvamin a smile. It was good to see someone from her area. Despite it being two different countries many Briton's worked on ships her father owned...or had owned. She again fought back tears, focusing and willing the water away from her eyes.

"It would appear so", Rothgar replied.
"And that does not bode well for us. A lich is a powerful undead sorcerer. They are notoriously difficult to destroy."

"Which begs the question", Rothgar spoke to the group, "where do we go from here? Obviously if the lich has command of a dragon flight then other kingdoms must be warned. Armies must be raised."

She listened to the teacher speak his reply to Rothgar's question.

 

[Catman_prb]

Kelvamin nodded thoughtfully.

"I think that may be best, master alchemist, but I think that though we should warn the world's states to build up their armies and to watch their borders, I feel that we should head after the Lich King as soon as we can. I would rather save the lives of the boys who would sign up to be soldiers, and head the Dread Wizard off at the pass. A leaderless army would pose no threat, and the dragons themselves would have no obligation to do ought but protect their horde,"

 

[Byrd Man]

Munich

The city had endured a hellacious night at the expense of Nightshade and her dragons. All of Munich's catapults and sentry towers had completly been wiped out. Even though they were behind the wall, they could hear the army coming.

Thousands of undead monsters stood outside the city doors

The Death Knight and Paladin sat on their horses, overlooking the battlefield.

"What are your orders, my lord?" Victor asked.

"Find a wraith and send word to the people inside the city that we do not tire, we do not age, we do not hunger or thirst. If they wish to place siege warfare, I can call the dragons and their city will die. I will accept their unconditional surrender in the name of Lord Charaun, the Mighty Lich-King."

"Yes, sir." Victor said as he sped off.

************
​

The ghouls and monsters stood back as the doors to Munich swung open, three riders carrying white flags rode through the army to meet Hilarion and Victor in the center.

"I am Habsburg, Lord of Bavaria. These are my sons, we come to negotiate the terms of the surrender."

"Very, well." Victor says as he turns to Hilarion with a nod.

"I will speak for Lord Hilarion."

"What do you wish?" Habsburg asks.

"That you recognize Lord Charaun as your master, fly his flag, and pay annual tribute to the Lich-King."

"Please. My people are poor, the winter has left us with barely any food. You cannot do this." Habsburg pleads.

Victor turns to Hilarion who remains silent.

"Very well then, Habsburg. What else do you have to offer?"

"Weapons and men, our armies are the finest in Europa, I garuntee."

Hilarion nods as Habsburg smiles.

"Tell me...are these two men your only sons?"

"Yes. They are barely men, no sons of their own."

"Such a shame."

Victor moves quickly, unsheathing his sword and decapitating Habsburg with one stroke. Two wraithes come up behind and stab the sons through their chests.

"Long live the House of Habsburg."

Turning to the Paladin, he points towards the city.

"Begin full forward march into the city. Do not leave anyone alive."​

 

[trustyside-kick]

EDIT. Post removed and reposted.

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Gunnar´s breath was heavy, his muscles ached from the battle. It had been a long while since he had taken part in a battle such as the one outside and his aching body reminded him of the fact.

"Hell Hounds..." he muttered. "We are indeed off to a promising start."

Looking around at the band of assorted warriors he had aligned himself with, Gunnar was amazed. His knowledge of the arcane seemed quite limited when he saw the power that some of these men -and woman- held in their hand. Especially the Egyptian.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Gunnar stood up straight and sheathed his sword. "This place may be safe now, but I have no doubt the monsters outside will find a way to join us."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

Caed had finally made it to the city of Athens, causing the plucking on his strings to quickly stop. It had been just as he had feared. And of course...the sight before him is tenfold worse than it was from a distance. One of the oldest cities in the world...every man, woman, and child of this once great city-state...decimated. He can see figures moving along the ghostly town. As he sprints toward them, he takes his crossbow, piercing the flesh of the undead with precision and accuracy.

Spotting a hellhound in the short distance, he takes one arrow, kissing its tip softly with his lips, and casts an endowment on the tip of the arrow with an enchantment spell. He takes aim with his crossbow, and fires straight for the beasts heart. It indeed hits its target, but even with the endowment of holy properties on the arrow, it was not strong enough to travel straight to the beasts heart.

Dashing towards the hellhound, Caed reloads his crossbow with more arrows, arrows he has endowed to trace the single holy arrow now in the hellish creature's hide. Each arrow hits exactly where the original arrow struck, digging deeper and deeper into the creature's skin and muscle. As the hellhound is about to scrape at the bard, Caed fires one last arrow mere feet away from the creature.

This time, it does not get back up.

"I haven't seen a hellhound in...decades. What evil lies afoot in the ruins of Athens? Chimera? Devourers? Howlers?"

Caed notices a group in the distance heading towards the Athenian School of Arts. He takes up his crossbow once more, loading an arrow into it, and aims. He aims and takes his time, but he does not fire. If there intention is to ravage and destroy one of the few things still standing in Athens as prestigious and glorious as its School of Arts, Caed taking down one of them will surely and simply make the rest aware and ready for his attack.

Have they no respect? Those who have the stomach to defile this already drained and dead city further more will meet a most taxing consequence. They shall writ the day that they, and these Dark Forces, destroyed this cradle of civilzation.
​

And so Caed runs. He climbs atop building structures and jumps and hops across rooftops to quicken the pace of his short journey to the school. He finally draws nearer and can hear foul sounds and cries of destruction coming from within the School of Arts. He can hear the sounds of hellhounds and immediately proceeds with his next courses of action. Of course, little does he know the sounds of hellhounds roaring are actually for the fact that a battle takes place.

"It would appear so", Rothgar replied.
"And that does not bode well for us. A lich is a powerful undead sorcerer. They are notoriously difficult to destroy."

"Which begs the question", Rothgar spoke to the group, "where do we go from here? Obviously if the lich has command of a dragon flight then other kingdoms must be warned. Armies must be raised."

Climbing upon the rooftop, Caed spots several figures. All draped and adourned in different attire and armor. Their body language tells them they are true warriors, say for about 2 of them. He cannot hear what they are saying, but he has seen enough horrors in this world to know there is no justification for the deeds done.

Despicable. Men of different lands, commanding this Evil's armies no doubt. What sort of Evil invites them and brings them together? They wish to be Generals of the Undead and ravish the land of Athens? Not another stone will be removed from its resting place. Nor will another book fall from its bookshelf.

Kelvamin nodded thoughtfully.

"I think that may be best, master alchemist, but I think that though we should warn the world's states to build up their armies and to watch their borders, I feel that we should head after the Lich King as soon as we can. I would rather save the lives of the boys who would sign up to be soldiers, and head the Dread Wizard off at the pass. A leaderless army would pose no threat, and the dragons themselves would have no obligation to do ought but protect their horde,"

Caed takes the arrow out of his crossbow, and closes his eyes for a moment. He starts to sway his head side to side as if listening to a harmonious tune. The very wind seems to sing to Caed's ears and for him it is quite soothing. His eyes still closed, he places the arrow back on his crossbow. He takes aim blindly, aiming the crossbow at the glass window from the rooftop, and speaks.

"Great Wind, sing your beautiful lullaby. My arrow is the chariot that glides through the sky, tugging it along. Open up your wonderous world of dreams, just this once for me, and let those that fall upon your soothing voice gaze up at the nightsky."

Blowing into the feathery end of the arrow, Caed fires the crossbow. Instantly the glass shatters and as Caed's arrow travels at an angle to the ground, the arrow travels past all of those who remain within that room of the building. As he opens his eyes, they are all asleep.

He then drops down, shattering the remains of the broken window and lands with perfect balance on top of one of the bookshelves. He lets himself down to the ground, and observes the peculiar men and woman.
​

 

[Catman_prb]

Blowing into the feathery end of the arrow, Caed fires the crossbow. Instantly the glass shatters and as Caed's arrow travels at an angle to the ground, the arrow travels past all of those who remain within that room of the building.

Kelvamin looks up at the sound of breaking glass and instantly drew his katana, stepping in front of Aithne in a defensive stance. The next second the arrow has passed over them and his legs weaken as he falls to the floor in a deep slumber, his katana clattering to the ground beside him. The next thing he knew, his eyes were opening a crack and he could feel his hands bound behind him. He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, and looking to his side, he could see Gunnar still slumbering.
"Is anyone injured?" he asked loudly, hoping to rouse some of the other members of his group.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar groaned as he woke, his mind still in a haze.
Shaking the sleep from his eyes, Rothgar rolled to a sitting position as he leaned up against the piece of rubble on which he previously sat upon.

"I'm fine", he answered as he winced, his head still throbbing from the enchantment. It had been some time since he was last put to magical sleep. And the memories of the experience suddenly came back to him.

"Unnggh...I'd forgotten how much I hated that."

That's when he noticed the cloaked man standing in their midst. He looked like an ordinary adventurer, but the instrument on his back, coupled with the nature of their slumber, gave him away.

"Who are you, bard? And what do you want with us", Rothgar asked, trying to get a read on the newcomer.

 

[Carnage27]

Gaul

The sounds of battle ring through my ears as my armies tear apart a small village on our conquest of Gaul. It has been an easy road up to this point. They are unorganized, and each village falls under the might of my troops.

Jason, one of the one hundred Vampiric Spartans I have created as my personal legion comes to my side, "My lord, we have routed them. A few warriors have escaped into the forest. What is the plan of action?"

""Send the dark elves after them, and then tell Erik that we will make camp here for the night.

He bows and leaves, as I turn and open the flaps to my lavish tent, where I find Scarlet lounging on the bed, and Carmen, my personal assassin, leaning quietly against a post on the other side of the room.

It has been no secret to me that Carmen was jealous of my newer mistress. Carmen had been my sole lover for a century and a half, and the influx of another had brought out a strong sense of animosity. It was of no concern to me. She was under my control, and would do what I say, when I said it.

"Carmen, my dear," I say as I take her hand in mine, "I have a mission for you. One of great importance."

"Yes, my lord, your wish is my command," she responds in a heavy Spanish accent.

"A group of warriors have assembled in Athens. The seek to undermine our new world order. I want you to follow them, and send me regular updates on their actions."

"Very well, Archilaus," she says slyly, knowing full well she is one of the only ones who can call me by my name and live to tell about it. "I shall make for Athens immediately."

She exits my chamber, I take my armor off, and sit on the bed. Scarlet presses up against me.

"I thought she'd never leave," she purrs and begins to kiss me passionately.

 

[Carnage27]

Amun awoke from his enchanted slumber, and immediately rose to a battle position, khopesh in hand, ready to strike. He saw his allies rise on by one, most of them groggy from the sleep.

"Who are you, bard? And what do you want with us", Rothgar asked, trying to get a read on the newcomer.

"And I suggest you answer quickly. There is evil afoot, and we have no time to spare."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

"I am in agreement with you, Egyptian. Evil is indeed afoot. And I am staring right at said Evil now. You have no right to speed up my delivery of justice."

Getting up from a pile of books he had been sitting atop of, Caed walks up to the Norseman who first spoke to him, a copy of old literature clasped in his right hand. He waves it in front of Rothgar in a disrespectful manner.

"And who I am is of no importance, sir. Call me no name for to you I have no name. But do you know what has names? These books. Do you know how many generations back this book can be traced? When it was first written? The time of Socrates. The time period of the man who is credited as one of the founders of Western philosophy. Without great men like him, we'd lack so much in this dark and horrid world. Do you read books, brute?"

Turning his back, Caed points to a section of bookshelves off in the short distance, then turning back around to face the group yet again.

"No more than 10 feet from you, lies years of history. History full of philosophy, art, and literature. I could spend countless hours reading Plato's Cave reveling at the ingeniousness of it. I will not idly stand by and allow your campaign across Athens scourge what's left of these lands."​

 

[Byrd Man]

Getting up from a pile of books he had been sitting atop of, Caed walks up to the Norseman who first spoke to him, a copy of old literature clasped in his right hand. He waves it in front of Rothgar in a disrespectful manner.

"And who I am is of no importance, sir. Call me no name for to you I have no name. But do you know what has names? These books. Do you know how many generations back this book can be traced? When it was first written? The time of Socrates. The time period of the man who is credited as one of the founders of Western philosophy. Without great men like him, we'd lack so much in this dark and horrid world. Do you read books, brute?"

Turning his back, Caed points to a section of bookshelves off in the short distance, then turning back around to face the group yet again.

"No more than 10 feet from you, lies years of history. History full of philosophy, art, and literature. I could spend countless hours reading Plato's Cave reveling at the ingeniousness of it. I will not idly stand by and allow your campaign across Athens scourge what's left of these lands."​

"Calm down, my musically inclined friend. I have as just appreciation for the written word as you."

He smiles and offers his hand.

"I am Dante Giovanni, The Docktore. I can speak for these men....and, uh woman. We are not the cause of this destruction, this is the work of a lich-king."

 

[Eddie Brock]

The Holy Land

It's another beautiful, sunny day. Could do without some of the heat, though. It would help the pack on my back to feel less cumbersome, but I'm not going to let it bother me. After all, today is a holy day of obligation. Know what that means? It means the public squares are packed with people - all lovely targets, ripe for the picking. It means I'm pretty much guaranteed a good haul.

I slip through the crowd, using my size as an advantage. Of course, while it helps me squeeze through small gaps in the crowd, it also means that the occasional traveler doesn't see me. Being trampled to death isn't my idea of a good day. I move carefully and deliberately, making note of all the men and women who appear a bit too preoccupied for their own good. I pick my first target of the day and begin my approach.

He's wealthy. I can tell this much by looking at him. His fancy robes stand out among a sea of drab, sandy cloth. His outfit is bejeweled with golden accents around the lapels. His hair is well-trimmed and neatly kept. But the only part I'm really focusing on is the satin coin purse dangling by his side. It's like a ripe apple, hanging from the apple tree.

And I intend to pick it.

I duck my head lower and increase my gait. The man is squinting, searching for something. His concentration on this task is the main reason I chose him. He doesn't even cover his coin purse with his hand, as most do. All of these facts make my heart feel like as I wrap my fingers around the soft satin. With a delicate tug, I pull the coin purse free and tuck it under my arm.

As I continue moving, I turn my head to watch the man further. Then, it happens. The telltale sign for a pickpocket that foul play has been suspected. As if by instinct, the man's hand reaches for the absent coin purse. As he fails to feel it, he becomes more frantic. I look away, tuck the coin purse further in my robes, and push through the crowd more desperately.

"You! Over there!" I don't turn my head. It would be a mistake to. I just pray that he's not speaking to me. I duck behind a merchant, hoping that I can stay unnoticed. That's when I hear it. "Halfling!" I've been discovered. Now, at this stage, there's only one option left. I throw caution to the wind and run.

"Someone stop him! Thief!"

I'm in a full sprint now. I know through memory where the city gates are. If I can just make it to one, I can escape to the desert. It would take a very determined man to give chase out there. Once the heat had subsided, I could return. Or move on to another city. Either way, escape is my only option currently.

People have begun to step out of my way. It's convenient for running, but it also means that my pursuer has a clear line of sight. I can't afford to be concerned with that, however. I simply remind myself that no man can outrun a halfling. We're much too agile.

Of course, that doesn't protect us from that which we don't see coming.

Someone grabs my collar and lifts me into the air. My legs continue to kick feverishly, but it's a useless action. My captor spins me around. My heart sinks as I realize that it's one of the city guards. From behind his helmet, he sneers. The labored breathing of my pursuer suddenly appears at my side.

With a sharp tug, the man takes back his coin purse. "Are you aware that such treachery is occurring within your city walls?" the man asks accusingly. He points a finger at me. "I don't know why you'd allow their kind in here to begin with! They're nothing but trouble, the filthy halflings!"

The guard says nothing. It's his job to punish, but I'm sure he doesn't like having his performance second-guessed. In many ways, I think he despises men like this as much as he despises thieves. After all, at least we go about our business quietly.

"Well, aren't you going to do something?" the man asks angrily. "Isn't the penalty for theft the removal of the thief's hand?"

In my line of work, I've realized that the time for rational plea is before they start calling for the removal of your hands. By that point, there's not a whole lot you can do. Not that I blame the guards, persay. I mean, the law is the law. But me? I live outside the law.

Reaching into my pocket, I grab a handful of tiny pellets. "So sorry. I have a prior engagement." I toss the pellets at the guard, and the explode into clouds of thick smoke. In the ensuing chaos, the guard releases me, and the man drops his coin purse. The coins scatter, and I have only time to grab a couple before running off.

***

I run my fingertips across the embossed face of the golden coin. A decent haul, considering the alternative was no money and one less hand. I push open the door to the tavern and enter. The bartender is a portly man, whose rosy cheeks belie a long-standing affair with mead. He smiles pleasantly enough at me. Bartenders, I've discovered, don't much care what race you are. Your money is as good as everyone else's.

Besides, most of them are hot with ale, anyway.

I pull myself up on a stool. My chin barely clears the bar. I toss my coin at the bartender. "I need something strong, my friend," I explain. "It's been one of those days."
​

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

"I am in agreement with you, Egyptian. Evil is indeed afoot. And I am staring right at said Evil now. You have no right to speed up my delivery of justice."

Getting up from a pile of books he had been sitting atop of, Caed walks up to the Norseman who first spoke to him, a copy of old literature clasped in his right hand. He waves it in front of Rothgar in a disrespectful manner.

"And who I am is of no importance, sir. Call me no name for to you I have no name. But do you know what has names? These books. Do you know how many generations back this book can be traced? When it was first written? The time of Socrates. The time period of the man who is credited as one of the founders of Western philosophy. Without great men like him, we'd lack so much in this dark and horrid world. Do you read books, brute?"

Turning his back, Caed points to a section of bookshelves off in the short distance, then turning back around to face the group yet again.

"No more than 10 feet from you, lies years of history. History full of philosophy, art, and literature. I could spend countless hours reading Plato's Cave reveling at the ingeniousness of it. I will not idly stand by and allow your campaign across Athens scourge what's left of these lands."​

Rothgar took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to keep his anger in check.
"Aye, I read books, bard. And I'd show more respect if I were you, lest you find your instrument shoved up a very uncomfortable place."

"Calm down, my musically inclined friend. I have as just appreciation for the written word as you."

He smiles and offers his hand.

"I am Dante Giovanni, The Docktore. I can speak for these men....and, uh woman. We are not the cause of this destruction, this is the work of a lich-king."

"So it is said", Rothgar added.
"We still have yet to prove anything, either way. Maybe this fair lad can shed some light on the mystery", Rothgar stated as his eyes remained locked on the bard.
"That is, if he's able to climb off his perch to converse with 'brutes' such as us?"