Post by Greybeard on Dec 3, 2015 10:15:13 GMT -5
OOC note: This will be open for Stampy to jump in and post his response rp back and forth
It is almost midnight. The forest is dark and mostly quiet, except for the occasional cricket chirp or owl’s hoot. In the air, thick clouds roll through the sky at a sluggish pace, concealing the full moon’s brightness. In the distance, a faint illumination can be seen moving toward the old, ruined watch tower in the eastern woods of Dragonia. It is torch light, carried by the Alchemist and Greybeard. Staff in one hand, torch in the other, Greybeard leads Al through the dense wood toward the bastion that once stood high above the crowded forest.
“We are almost there my friend, find your pace! This monster of a man, Stampy chose to meet us by the old watchtower. It very well could be a trap.”
Greybeard led the way, but not for his expertise with direction. In actuality, they had circled this particular area a few times before finding the correct path. Completely unaware, the duo marched on with a steady pace. Instead, Greybeard led the way due to Al’s total lack of conditioning and fortitude. Beads of sweat rolled down The Alchemist’s face and the roll of flab that hung from under his leather vest. Light armor on a heavy man is not a good look.
“Don’t worry…..about me.” The Alchemist huffed and puffed. “I've made tougher treks than this! Remember when we walked to Oestgaard? We walked for days and fought every sand snake and monster that desert had to offer!”
The Alchemist stopped to catch his breath, resting on a near by log. Upon resting his adequate backside upon it, the rotting log collapsed, releasing a bevy of spiders that began to crawl onto the now prone Alchemist.
“Ahhhh!” Al screamed like a little girl. He immediately stood up and did a dance reminiscent of a toddler that has to urinate, flailing his arms pathetically and hopping in place. With a sigh, Greybeard turned back and pointed his staff at Al and uttering the phrase, “Klastraphem!” With that, a shockwave went out and alleviated Al of the cluster of spiders. Almost immediately, Al composed himself as if nothing had happened and asked, “Are we there yet?”
With a sigh, Greybeard raised his hood to obscure his face.
“I see it just ahead. However, you’ve made enough noise to alert anyone who may have beaten us here! We came for but a single reason! To negotiate the terms of Lute Boy’s release! The God’s have seen fit to team this…Stampy and I for whatever reason.” Greybeard continued on his way, flanked by The Alchemist. He continued, “La Gama Blanca seems like he could be a fine ally and I assume the company he keeps, Andre Jenson, must be aligned similarly. This week is all business though. The goals are simple Al, get Lute Boy back and win this match….in that order.”
The Alchemist still carried an uneasy countenance, checking his arms for any lingering spiders that may have hitched a ride on him. “Why would Stampy take Lute Boy? What purpose could he have?
Greybeard stopped. A smile appeared on his bearded face, though it could not be seen due to his cloak’s hood. “His reasons are his own, however, Stampy claims he did such a deed to motivate me. Well, he has succeeded my friend. Perhaps Stampy has underestimated my constitution…Lute Boy will be retrieved one way or another…be it tonight or at Slam.”
The two continued on their way for awhile longer, pushing through some brush which led them to the base of the crumbled watchtower. The two peered upward at what remained and then back to each other.
“We’re here…”
It is almost midnight. The forest is dark and mostly quiet, except for the occasional cricket chirp or owl’s hoot. In the air, thick clouds roll through the sky at a sluggish pace, concealing the full moon’s brightness. In the distance, a faint illumination can be seen moving toward the old, ruined watch tower in the eastern woods of Dragonia. It is torch light, carried by the Alchemist and Greybeard. Staff in one hand, torch in the other, Greybeard leads Al through the dense wood toward the bastion that once stood high above the crowded forest.
“We are almost there my friend, find your pace! This monster of a man, Stampy chose to meet us by the old watchtower. It very well could be a trap.”
Greybeard led the way, but not for his expertise with direction. In actuality, they had circled this particular area a few times before finding the correct path. Completely unaware, the duo marched on with a steady pace. Instead, Greybeard led the way due to Al’s total lack of conditioning and fortitude. Beads of sweat rolled down The Alchemist’s face and the roll of flab that hung from under his leather vest. Light armor on a heavy man is not a good look.
“Don’t worry…..about me.” The Alchemist huffed and puffed. “I've made tougher treks than this! Remember when we walked to Oestgaard? We walked for days and fought every sand snake and monster that desert had to offer!”
The Alchemist stopped to catch his breath, resting on a near by log. Upon resting his adequate backside upon it, the rotting log collapsed, releasing a bevy of spiders that began to crawl onto the now prone Alchemist.
“Ahhhh!” Al screamed like a little girl. He immediately stood up and did a dance reminiscent of a toddler that has to urinate, flailing his arms pathetically and hopping in place. With a sigh, Greybeard turned back and pointed his staff at Al and uttering the phrase, “Klastraphem!” With that, a shockwave went out and alleviated Al of the cluster of spiders. Almost immediately, Al composed himself as if nothing had happened and asked, “Are we there yet?”
With a sigh, Greybeard raised his hood to obscure his face.
“I see it just ahead. However, you’ve made enough noise to alert anyone who may have beaten us here! We came for but a single reason! To negotiate the terms of Lute Boy’s release! The God’s have seen fit to team this…Stampy and I for whatever reason.” Greybeard continued on his way, flanked by The Alchemist. He continued, “La Gama Blanca seems like he could be a fine ally and I assume the company he keeps, Andre Jenson, must be aligned similarly. This week is all business though. The goals are simple Al, get Lute Boy back and win this match….in that order.”
The Alchemist still carried an uneasy countenance, checking his arms for any lingering spiders that may have hitched a ride on him. “Why would Stampy take Lute Boy? What purpose could he have?
Greybeard stopped. A smile appeared on his bearded face, though it could not be seen due to his cloak’s hood. “His reasons are his own, however, Stampy claims he did such a deed to motivate me. Well, he has succeeded my friend. Perhaps Stampy has underestimated my constitution…Lute Boy will be retrieved one way or another…be it tonight or at Slam.”
The two continued on their way for awhile longer, pushing through some brush which led them to the base of the crumbled watchtower. The two peered upward at what remained and then back to each other.
“We’re here…”
