The following Preamble is designed for Kalen and Marak.
More to come soon!
PREAMBLE: NEVER try to out-drink a Dwarf!
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Eanwulf
- Level 18 Elite
- Posts: 7226
- Location: FL
- Title: The Grey
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- User Class: Berserker
PREAMBLE: NEVER try to out-drink a Dwarf!
When Life Hands You Razorblades. You Make A Baseball Bat Covered In Razorblades!
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Eanwulf
- Level 18 Elite
- Posts: 7226
- Location: FL
- Title: The Grey
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- User Class: Berserker
I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
Godsday 11 of the Month of Readying, CY 595
Somewhere within the Town of Diamond Lake
Inside the Chapel of Heironeous, located within the Local Garrison
The evening hour is late indeed when the last of the Chapel's inhabitants finally leave its sacred halls. The large high-ceilinged chamber now lies silent and barren. A cold, blustery wind howls periodically outside of the chapel's walls, forcefully whooshing its way across the large stained-glass windows that decorate the chapel's hall. The seemingly empty room echoes softly with the distinct buzzing and whizzing sounds of its travels. Accompanying the ghostly whispering sounds outside are the rhythmic crackling and popping sounds of what must assuredly be '˜dozens' of guttering torches that adorn a massive wall fresco looming over the chapel's large bronzewood altar. The mural itself depicts the chapel's patron '€" Heironeous the Invincible '€" locked in an epic battle with the god's demonic six-armed half-brother, Hextor - the Scourge of Battle. What wind that actually manages to seep its way into the room through the seals around the stained-glass windows, causes the torches' light to flicker and waver in a most unsettling manner.
The eerie silence of the chapel is rudely interrupted by the distinct creaking sounds of a wooden door opening. A full moon hangs high in the evening sky and its rays clearly illuminates the darkened silhouette of a dwarven figure standing within the doorway to one of the chapel's rear exits. The wind suddenly picks up and soon catches hold of the inside of the door, quickly forcing it open and causes the room to echo with a thunderous crash. With a series of foul, hushed curses the dwarf quickly does his best to catch the door and shuts it behind him as he enters the room. After making sure that his presence has indeed not been detected, the dwarf cautiously makes his way over towards a simple wooden pew and begins to rap upon it gently. 'œIt's time,' the dwarf states in a whispered tone. The pew, made from lacquered oak appears to be ancient in design is rather worn and cracked. The top of the wooden seat appears to be lidded and unlocked. Slowly, ever slowly, the lid of the pew begins to creak open - a small furry-knuckled hand gradually making its way visible into the moonlight.
Somewhere within the Town of Diamond Lake
Inside the Chapel of Heironeous, located within the Local Garrison
The evening hour is late indeed when the last of the Chapel's inhabitants finally leave its sacred halls. The large high-ceilinged chamber now lies silent and barren. A cold, blustery wind howls periodically outside of the chapel's walls, forcefully whooshing its way across the large stained-glass windows that decorate the chapel's hall. The seemingly empty room echoes softly with the distinct buzzing and whizzing sounds of its travels. Accompanying the ghostly whispering sounds outside are the rhythmic crackling and popping sounds of what must assuredly be '˜dozens' of guttering torches that adorn a massive wall fresco looming over the chapel's large bronzewood altar. The mural itself depicts the chapel's patron '€" Heironeous the Invincible '€" locked in an epic battle with the god's demonic six-armed half-brother, Hextor - the Scourge of Battle. What wind that actually manages to seep its way into the room through the seals around the stained-glass windows, causes the torches' light to flicker and waver in a most unsettling manner.
The eerie silence of the chapel is rudely interrupted by the distinct creaking sounds of a wooden door opening. A full moon hangs high in the evening sky and its rays clearly illuminates the darkened silhouette of a dwarven figure standing within the doorway to one of the chapel's rear exits. The wind suddenly picks up and soon catches hold of the inside of the door, quickly forcing it open and causes the room to echo with a thunderous crash. With a series of foul, hushed curses the dwarf quickly does his best to catch the door and shuts it behind him as he enters the room. After making sure that his presence has indeed not been detected, the dwarf cautiously makes his way over towards a simple wooden pew and begins to rap upon it gently. 'œIt's time,' the dwarf states in a whispered tone. The pew, made from lacquered oak appears to be ancient in design is rather worn and cracked. The top of the wooden seat appears to be lidded and unlocked. Slowly, ever slowly, the lid of the pew begins to creak open - a small furry-knuckled hand gradually making its way visible into the moonlight.
When Life Hands You Razorblades. You Make A Baseball Bat Covered In Razorblades!
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arkahm
- Level 8
- Posts: 606
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
"It's time ta' quit sleepin' on da job, Halfer" Marak says to the pew. "Hope the air was OK in thar....har, har" Marak taps the pew with the tip of his boot just to make sure Kalen is awake.
Marak is an impressive individual, even for a dwarf. Heavily muscled and sturdy he stands around 4 and a half feet in height. His reddish-brown beard reaches about half that distance, braided into a fork, complementing his dark brown eyes and ruddy complexion. Wrapped around is shoulders is a fur cloak which under can be seen a battle worn set of chainmail. A shield can be seen strapped to his back with the symbol of a cleaved orc skull imposed atop two crossed axes. His friends know this is a symbol of his clan, which he is extremely proud of. Many a bar fight has happened for insults to that symbol. Slung along his waist is a deadly looking axe, which has apparently seen good use, pitted but looking fully functional to those unlucky enough to be on the business end of it.
"Vergadain ain't gonna like you bein' so sluggish." Marak helps pull Kalen out of the cramped box. "The keg's outside the door yonder. We might as well get it and get da job done befo' everyone gets back from da celebratin'."
Marak is an impressive individual, even for a dwarf. Heavily muscled and sturdy he stands around 4 and a half feet in height. His reddish-brown beard reaches about half that distance, braided into a fork, complementing his dark brown eyes and ruddy complexion. Wrapped around is shoulders is a fur cloak which under can be seen a battle worn set of chainmail. A shield can be seen strapped to his back with the symbol of a cleaved orc skull imposed atop two crossed axes. His friends know this is a symbol of his clan, which he is extremely proud of. Many a bar fight has happened for insults to that symbol. Slung along his waist is a deadly looking axe, which has apparently seen good use, pitted but looking fully functional to those unlucky enough to be on the business end of it.
"Vergadain ain't gonna like you bein' so sluggish." Marak helps pull Kalen out of the cramped box. "The keg's outside the door yonder. We might as well get it and get da job done befo' everyone gets back from da celebratin'."
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Trogdor
- Emeritus Admin
- Posts: 27260
- Title: The Burninator
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- User Class: Jedi Master
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
He steps out, showing a form only a few inches shorter than Marak, though much leaner and clean shaven. He has the dark hair so common with his people, but bright blue eyes which, along with his height, mark him as a Tallfellow halfling. Kalen wears worn leather armor and old traveling clothes. He has a large dagger on his belt, with four smaller throwing daggers in a bandoleer over one shoulder. In the faint light, Marak can also see the glint of the hilts of two more daggers tucked into sheaths on each of the halfling's boots.
"But don't worry about me being sluggish," he says. "I'm well rested and sharp now." He quietly closes the lid to the pew behind him. "Let's get this done quickly. The sooner we're in and out, the sooner we'll be able to move on to the next stage."
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arkahm
- Level 8
- Posts: 606
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
"Well lets get goin' den." The Dwarf says in a hurried tone."We can na' keep a dwur from his mead you know...har, har." He walks toward the door to open it, making sure that it does not slam this time. He holds the door while his Halfling friend goes through into the cold windy night and follows behind gently closing it behind him.
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Eanwulf
- Level 18 Elite
- Posts: 7226
- Location: FL
- Title: The Grey
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- User Class: Berserker
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
Having reassembled, the two shadowy figures quickly exit through the very same chapel door that the dwarf had so nonchalantly entered through previously and make their way outside. The two soon come to a sudden halt just outside of the building and pause briefly to stare awkwardly at one another as they gaze down upon a rather large wooden cask that rests comfortably upon the ground just to the left of the exit. 'œGo on den,' the dwarf exclaims gruffly as he points down towards the heavy cask, 'œI've lugged that damned thing all this way so far, it's yer turn now!' Reluctantly, the halfling quickly bends down and struggles to lift the wooden cask as best that he can and slowly begins to follow his companion around the church, out into, and then across of the garrison's courtyard.
'œStop staring,' the dwarf eventually grumbles as he notices his companion's view moving upwards towards the few guards that still remained patrolling atop of the garrison walls, 'œJust relax! As far as they know, we're simply here making a delivery.' The two quickly cross the open courtyard and enter a smaller building to the south. Once inside, the pair makes their way down several hallways until finally reaching their ultimate destination '€" the Chief Cartographer's Office! With a heavy *thump*, the halfling sets the heavy cask down upon the wooden floor and begins to stretch his body from side to side. 'œYou dwarves and your ale!' the tiny rogue whispers sarcastically as he continues to flex and bend his muscles, 'œWe'd might as well drug an entire brewery in here!'
'œHush yer mouff haffer,' the dwarf replies brusquely, 'œYou talk too much and we's got a job ta do! Blast it, we're lucky that we've even made it this far, and I be damned if we wind up screwing things up now cuz of your infernal whining!' A look of sheer loathing creeps across of the halfling's face and he is just about to reply to his companion's comments when the distant sounds of footsteps are heard echoing hollowing atop of the wooden floor. The two figures suddenly become rigid and silent with fear as the listen to the sounds slowly fade away. Having forgotten the rude things that he was about the say, the halfling simply watches his surroundings sullenly. 'œJust stick to the plan,' the dwarf says as he prepares himself to knock on the door in front of him, 'œJust stick to the plan'¦'
'œStop staring,' the dwarf eventually grumbles as he notices his companion's view moving upwards towards the few guards that still remained patrolling atop of the garrison walls, 'œJust relax! As far as they know, we're simply here making a delivery.' The two quickly cross the open courtyard and enter a smaller building to the south. Once inside, the pair makes their way down several hallways until finally reaching their ultimate destination '€" the Chief Cartographer's Office! With a heavy *thump*, the halfling sets the heavy cask down upon the wooden floor and begins to stretch his body from side to side. 'œYou dwarves and your ale!' the tiny rogue whispers sarcastically as he continues to flex and bend his muscles, 'œWe'd might as well drug an entire brewery in here!'
'œHush yer mouff haffer,' the dwarf replies brusquely, 'œYou talk too much and we's got a job ta do! Blast it, we're lucky that we've even made it this far, and I be damned if we wind up screwing things up now cuz of your infernal whining!' A look of sheer loathing creeps across of the halfling's face and he is just about to reply to his companion's comments when the distant sounds of footsteps are heard echoing hollowing atop of the wooden floor. The two figures suddenly become rigid and silent with fear as the listen to the sounds slowly fade away. Having forgotten the rude things that he was about the say, the halfling simply watches his surroundings sullenly. 'œJust stick to the plan,' the dwarf says as he prepares himself to knock on the door in front of him, 'œJust stick to the plan'¦'
When Life Hands You Razorblades. You Make A Baseball Bat Covered In Razorblades!
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Trogdor
- Emeritus Admin
- Posts: 27260
- Title: The Burninator
-
- User Class: Jedi Master
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
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arkahm
- Level 8
- Posts: 606
Re: I'm Gonna Wait Til the Midnight Hour
Marak lightly rapps on the door waiting for a reply from the other side. "u der, Cuzin? I be bringin' you a present so ye d'not feel left out of the celebratin'. Let us be in thar." Marak whispers just loud enough to be heard through the door.
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Eanwulf
- Level 18 Elite
- Posts: 7226
- Location: FL
- Title: The Grey
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- User Class: Berserker
Knock Knock - Who's There?
Marak's knock is answered by simple silence and the slightly frustrated dwarf gently raps once more. 'œBorik,' he whispers a tad bit louder, 'œYou der?' Yet again, the dwarf's efforts are met with nothing more than silence. Becoming highly agitated, the young dwarf leans in and places his ear to the door.
'œThe fooker's asleep!' Marak suddenly exclaims frustratedly to his companion as he backs himself away from the doorway and prepares to knock yet again. 'œDon't knock too loud,' Kalen replies hastily as he takes a quick snort from his now-filled waterskin, 'œYou don't want...*Blech* what's in this stuff!?...You don't want to wake the entire complex!'
Sure enough, Marak knocks upon the wooden door rather heavily, its echoing sounds soon filling the hallway. 'œBorik!' he states gruffly as he knocks, 'œOpen up, it's me Marak!' The scrambling sounds of what sounds like someone nearly falling upon the floor are soon heard, followed quickly by the scuffling of feet. The footsteps seem to approach the door and within moments the heavy wooden door is flung open, revealing a red-eyed and rather cranky-looking dwarf on the other side.
Sure enough, Marak knocks upon the wooden door rather heavily, its echoing sounds soon filling the hallway. 'œBorik!' he states gruffly as he knocks, 'œOpen up, it's me Marak!' The scrambling sounds of what sounds like someone nearly falling upon the floor are soon heard, followed quickly by the scuffling of feet. The footsteps seem to approach the door and within moments the heavy wooden door is flung open, revealing a red-eyed and rather cranky-looking dwarf on the other side.
When Life Hands You Razorblades. You Make A Baseball Bat Covered In Razorblades!
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arkahm
- Level 8
- Posts: 606
Re: Knock Knock - Who's There?
"Well it's about stinkin' time ye gets to da door. I bring ya a gift and ye keep me waitin'?" Marak walks into the room. "Cummon ya haffer, get dat keg in har and set up da mugs.", he says to the halfling in a servants tone. "I figure ye shouldn't be missin' on da celebratin' so I brought ye this. Figure we could toss back a few while talking on some old times. It be yer fav'rite, spiced mead!" He slaps Borik on the back and heads to the nearest table and chair.
"You can stick around here, cookie. We need someone ta pour da mead when da cups are empty.", he says to Kalen as he props himself up into one of the chairs. "Grab a cup, cuzin."