RP:The Nine Seekers
Background
This is part of the Anders' Expedition story arc.
The appointed hour has arrived for those who seek to join the expedition to make themselves known at the designated meeting place near to Xalious Village
In the Xalious Mountains
Oh, the view! You think to yourself, as you overlook this cliff. You feel no fear from this great height, due to the amazing view down the mountain, to a tree-filled valley. From here you can see a large park, with people eating and playing sports of all kinds, as well as rolling hills and a large fountain. Beyond that is the great Xalious Tree, the incarnation that the god of the same name has taken. Also visible from here is a small village resting in a valley in between the mountains, and above that the great Mage Tower, the training place of the spell casters. You think you could stay here forever, taking in these wonderful sights, but you must press on soon.
Players:
- Anders
- Cornelius
- Veriun
NPC's:
- Anathras
- Cutty Stabber
- Methras the eagle eye
- Reginald Swertzein
- Phil
- Archibald Smith - archaeologist and anthropologist.
Veriun stood by a fireplace from a few hours ago. The initial gathering having passed, now was the part where they wait to share the plans before taking off. Hoping all those with intentions to come would catch up. It was a chilly afternoon with a constant breeze. The kind that makes good pictures. The small group that had gathered so far standing spread out over the cliff. So far the attendance had been scarce. Only one member had shown up beyond those founding the expedition. A human sitting by the crackling fire, clad in a green travelers cloak with two-hand sword resting over his shoulder and a very large pack slung over his pack. He looked up towards the silent avian for a moment, but said nothing and returned his gaze onto the fire. Waiting. That was all they were doing right now. The silence just suspenseful enough to make it a tad difficult to choose the right words to break it.
Anders stands silently gazing into the fire as well, the chilly breeze causing his cloak to flow as he stands motionless, unbothered by the chill. The zombie, tough, looks bored, and is poking the logs in the fireplace with a stick. "Oi boss, How long're we gonna wait, anyway?" The necromancer's gaze is diverted onto his companion. He speaks in his deep, hollow voice. "As long as it takes, Phil." he then resumes the motionless stare into the fire.
Cornelius hadn't expected to see others as he made his way to what was one of his favorite spots for quiet contemplation over a tumbler of brandy. Still, he does not make much effort to conceal his approach. As he gets closer to his destination he recognizes the form of a familiar avian. With a wave he calls out amiably "What ho, Veriun old bean. Popping up all over the place, wot?" He glances at those around the fire, noting the presence of undeath and a hooded figure in black "Strange kind of picnic you've got going on over here, my good man."
Veriun turned to face Cornelius as he approached. Letting a gaze sweep over his comrades as he was asked about them. “Popping is one of my skills, yes.” he responded before sweeping out a hand towards Anders & friends. “Strange for a picnic, indeed. For a gathering, Not so much.” he continues before he's interrupted by the human by the fire. “This guy isn't one of us, Is he?” he asks. Where to Veriun responds “No, Cornelius is not part of the expedition, as you can quite clearly tell.” turning back to the man in question. “Anders here-” and he nods towards Aders “Is gathering those interested in a special expedition. There off our... special picnic.”
Anders turns towards the approaching human. "Indeed, that is the case. But intrest has been.. low, and we had hoped for more companions." The zombie that previously crouched beside the fire stands up, dropping the stick to the flames. "Oi, boss? Do ya think this one could join us?" Anders looks at his zombie companion "Why don't you ask him instead of me?" the zombie looks slightly flustered. "well, Boss, I thought maybe you'd want to do the talkin'..." Anders shrugs. "I do not mind your additions to conversations unless they hamper progress." The zombie shrugs. "well, boss, I try to help.." Anders shrugs again, "No matter." he returns his gaze to Cornelius. "So, Human, do you wish to join our expedition to a valley of death, magic and forgotten treasures?"
Cornelius chuckles "Sounds like my second wife's marriage proposal. I think, though, that this proposition has a lot more going for it. Colour me interested." He straightens his sleeves "What are the requirements, my good man, and what are the expectations? Some advance notion of what I'm getting myself into would be lovely, wot." Cornelius decides that, if a holiday had almost got him killed, maybe a risky mission will turn his luck back into the positive scale. His next comment is interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps and the heavy breathing of one who is either unfit, or has just spent the better half of his day running. As Cornelius turns his head, he and the others are greeted by a young gentleman in goggles who almost skids to a halt near the group. Apart from the glasses, he's a strange figure with little fashion sense: he is clothed in sturdy mountaineer's pants secured around his thin waist with a leather utility belt, itself adorned with numerous pouches and satchels. A thick woolen shirt is tucked in, and a leather duster jacket ceases its deranged flapping as the man catches his breath. Over his shoulders is a large pack - the likely cause for his loss of breath, as it does seem rather heavy. He pants out "Am... I... too late? Archibald... reporting in... for the... expedition"
Laughter can be heard as the excited man comes to his comic halt, uttering his half-audible question-for-a-greeting. He'd been followed by two men, it'd seem. For they stepped into vicinity as he spoke, quieting down their laughter as the gazes turned upon them. They were both elves, and clearly brothers. That anyone could tell: they were the image of one another. Both young looking with shoulder length hair. The only difference being the color of said hair. One blond and one black. The Blond one in the typical elven ranger leather armor. Adorned with beautiful patterns and leafs beneath a grass-green cape. The other one in robes the same color, with a matching pattern. “Why sure.” says the one in robes. “here they all are, waiting to tell you you are late, no doubt!” and they both chuckle merrily as they approach the fire and the gathering. The blonde giving Archibald a friendly pat on the back. Or well.. backpack.
Anders gazes over the three new arrivals. "No, you are not late, Archibald." The zombie behind Anders has taken up a semi-defensive position behind his master, and is eyeing the living suspiciously as he is fondling the shaft of his mace (if you were thinking anything else, you need to scrub your mind with soap.)
Cornelius chuckles as Archibald regains something resembling composure and forces garbled words approximating a 'Thank you, sir' from tortured lungs and heaving chest as he takes a moment to adjust his wide-brimmed leather hat, helping to reinforce his rake-thin scarecrow-ish appearance. Cornelius tosses the young man a silver flask "Methinks you could use this, old bean." Archibald, expecting water, almost splutters as the brandy goes down. He passes the flask back, and tries not to cough, leaving him silent for a precious few moments while Cornelius comments to Veriun "Well old bean? Any idea just what we are in for?" Archibald looks half-choked as he tries, and fails, to answer Cornelius' question for him while holding down the urge to cough.
Veriun looks at the present gathering with a thoughtful expression. The human by the fire urges him on: “Well. Come on. Tell us. We can discuss the detailed plan once we're underway, if there is one.” as the dark haired elf nods agreeably, the avian shrugs and raises his voice. “Very well. I'll tell you roughly what we're “in for” as you so fittingly put it.” he says and walks behind the human and the two undead to reach what resembles the center of the vicinity. Turning to face the group. “The valley we're heading for is the cradle of a lost art, and all life who knew it. You could say it is much like the old human legends of a golden city or a lost land of magic. A forgotten place with lost magicks and artifacts of great power. An abundance of lost knowledge unseen and undisturbed for millennia.” he tilts his head and looks at the others “Of course, there must be a reason it was lost. And that is something that we might have to contend with. There is no point in denying that fact.”
Anders looks around. "Which is why we mount this expedition. We do not know what we will face, and a greater number of us means we have a greater chance to reach the end of this.. adventure. No one should join this expedition that are not ready to risk all for success."
Cornelius grins "Sounds good to me, old bean." As Archibald hands Cornelius the flask back, he is given a friendly pat on the back. "Don't worry lad, we'll keep you in one piece". Archibald mutters a vague '...can look after myself' under his breath, but doesn't argue the point, as he still attempts to restore his lungs to working order
As the avian finishes his explanation the human rises up and hoists his sword off his should and onto the ground, leaning on it like a cane. “Well. That gives us time to get to know each other before we start choosing who dies first, right?” he says in a almost inappropriately amused tone. “Reginald Swertzein! I suppose I’m part of the brawn of this body you call an expedition, right? Making those two the brain.” he continues, pointing towards Anders and Veriun with a thumb. Looking towards the rest of the new arrivals. “What about you people?”
Anders nods at the warrior's explanation of his role - after all, it wasn't far from the truth, if deviating at all.- The zombie looks around. "Well, I'm Phil, and I'll be part of the brawn, I guess you'd call it."
Cornelius arches an elegant brow, his posture somehow calculated to let the sun glint off the polished gorget and cuirass bearing the spreadwinged-raven of Penzance "Cornelius Von Penzance, at your collected service. I suppose you could call me brawn -and- brains if that's how we're going to be categorising ourselves, wot." Archibald, who has now recovered somewhat, draws breath and speaks in a rush "I'm Archibald Smith and I'm a scholar whose special area of interest is ancient civilisations and I think I can assist by..." he is interrupted by Cornelius' well-timed cough and trails off into a subdued "...and it's nice to meet you all, but don't worry I can look after myself" Archibald blinks, and wonders at the potency of the brandy.
The two elves now realized it was their turn, and spoke one at a time, bowing only ever so slightly to the group , staring with the one in leather armor “Methras, the eagle eye they call me. I'm a ranger around these parts, this is my brother..” here said brother spoke “Anathras, the wizard. I hope you'll find my little brother more endurable then our kinsmen usually do.” he adds, seemingly quite amused at the rest of the group
Anders takes a breath. "Verry well. You all know the risks, and do not place blame on me if you are injured.. or worse. But also remember that with the risk comes the reward. And as I have heard nothing of this valley being sacked before, great treasures should await us."
Cornelius glances at Archibald, responding to his previous statement "I've no doubt of it, old bean. Still, what's say you and I partner up. You can tell me all about your research, and I'll keep a weather eye out for trouble. Do we have an accord?" As Archibald nods eagerly, Cornelius stills him with a raised hand "Not just yet, old bean. Save it for the trail." As Archibald retrieves some papers from a pouch and reads through them, Cornelius can tell he may come to regret this. The young scholar didn't seem the 'synopsis' type. This was, he supposed, divine retribution for maliciously subjecting Mahri to hours of painful discourse on the starching of cravats and social implications of different styles of cufflinks. To Anders, the dandy simply nods and pats the hilt of his sabre. He then proceeds to retrieve a grappling hook from his satchel, and winds the strangely spun chord attached to it around his torso like a sash, leaving the grapple itself to settle above his right hip.
Veriun chuckles and nods at the introductions. Before he himself speaks “That'd make me Veriun Ze'thra. And I suppose I am the conscience. That is to say, I am the Advisor and information source of this venture, if not a full participator.” he explains before turning to look up at the sky with a analytic expression. “And I suppose it'll soon be time for us to make our first few hours of journey, to get ready and have this.. explanation of the true plan as reginald proposed to us earlier. Or do you suspect there shall be anyone else showing?”
Anders shakes his head slowly. "No. It is well over the time I posted in the board. It seems unlikely any further would show up."
Cornelius nods "Well, I'm provisioned for a hike, so I'm ready to pop along whenever you lot are." Archibald, at this stage, is absorbed in his notes.
Veriun is interrupted before he can say anything further by what seems to be a flying blue and black ball smacking straight onto the side of his head, effectively knocking the avian over with a loud 'smack' noise. And something much stranger: a giggling sound.
Anders traces the path of the ball back to whomever -or whatever- threw it. Phil, the zombie, takes a step in order to protect his master from any similar attacks.
Cornelius has his sabre in hand almost instantly with a smooth step-and-draw, and is already moving towards the perceived source of the ball before the sound of giggling follows the impact. He ceases his forwards momentum, bringing his sabre to rest casually on his shoulder. He drawls out in laconic fashion "And lo, the questing party was joined by a giggling maniac, and there was great rejoicing in the realms of They Who Watch. Having a ball over there, are we?" Archibald blinks as the dandy's sudden burst of movement causes his papers to rustle.
Veriun has a gnome standing on him. One foot on his cheek, the other on his chest. She's rather short, even for a gnome, and of a lean and slimmed build, well augmented by her skin-fit blue and black leather armor with what seems to be a mithril plate here and this. Whipping her brown hair out of her face, drawing a short sword and pointing it at the sky she bursts out in what seems to be victorious laughter. “I, Cutty stabber, have felled the man I deduct is your leader, and thereby commandeered this expedition into including me among it's ranks!” she proudly exclaims. “Acknowledge your being in the presence of the hero that is me, and we shall be off to GLORY!!” during all this, Veriun had not seemed to bother preforming any resistance, nor had Reginald found himself able to act, merely stare in pure disbelief.
Anders stands gazing at the gnome. "You may come, but your deduction was not completely correct. The man upon wich you stand is the guide, not the leader. I am the one leading this expedition."
Cornelius scratches his jawline with a smile as the mystery of the giggling sound resolves itself in such an outrageous fashion "Alright then, Cutie Stabber. Might I suggest -heroically- getting off of old Veriun's head? I'm sure he'd appreciate it, wot" Archibald eloquently states "Wha....?" as he looks in confusion at the scene before him.
Veriun was released from his position beneath Cutty as she preformed a very girly pouty face and back flipped of the avian, most probably just to show off. Standing up, he brushed himself off and checked his wristwatch. “Why, yes. That should be sufficient time, people, and gnomes on my head. Wouldn't you say?” he proclaimed, apparently amused by Cutty's assault, rather then bored by it. Reginald, in turn, turns to Anders. “You sure you want to bring her? She seems... well...” he is interrupted by the gnome who happily exclaims “Crazy!?”. Stunning the human, who does nothing but nod, thus triggering the response “Yes indeed, Oh minion of mine! I am crazy! Crazily amazing!”
Anders chuckles. something that almost sounds haunting. "Why not? Even insanity has it's uses.."
Cornelius distracts Archibald with a light clap on the back, sabre still resting on his shoulder "No need to gawp, chappie. It's just a circus performer. See them in Cenril all the time, wot. I rather imagine she juggles quite well. At least the trip will be entertaining, eh?" He keeps an eye on the diminutive lunatic, as he does with all loose cannons he has ever come across.
Veriun now ignored the loud proclamations and yells from the gnome and the loud laughing from the elven brothers as he proceeds “Well then I suppose this ends the introductions as well as the waiting for further members, no?” and without waiting for answers he hoists up his pack and starts walking upwards, towards the road inwards Xalious and their first stop. “Let us proceed along the planned route before it grows dark.” he says as he passes the last of the gathered. Soon followed by two merry elven brothers, a shocked human warrior and what seems to be an utterly insane gnome. All of on the first leg of the journey that will most likely prove a memorable adventure.
Anders looks at the zombie, who shrugs, after wich the two undead follow the others on the path to adventure.
Cornelius grins, re-sheathes his sabre, and follows the procession. Archibald hurriedly stows his papers and trots along afterwards, goggles and hat serving to hide most of the nervousness he felt.