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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Dec 31, 2023 18:19:01 GMT -5
Deep in the Marsh Lands, Elvira was leading Grid through the thick swamp. She had put on different robes, these ones only going down to her thighs. Her pants were rugged, thick, black pants that covered the rest of her skin. Trudging through the watery sludge of the swamp, the cleric was chatting up a storm to her newfound friend. Oddly, the topic was another friend she had met. "Supposedly she lives somewhere around here? I'm not too sure. She's pretty neat, if you ask me. Smart, too! Likes archeology, science, and writing. I wonder if she'd be aro-"
She pauses, spotting a commotion up ahead. A goblin standing on an orc was shouting orders to a few citizens of Lilicors Village. He was clearly upset about something. "The bloody Mud Worms! Of course it's 'em, what problem hasn't been caused by the half-way crooks! Who amongst you will take up arms and take back what is rightfully ours? Anyone?" The man pleads with his followers in front of him. They all look around and shrug to each other. A few of the raunchier ones shove each other to the front in an attempt to avoid being volun-told. A few moments pass, and the goblin man sighs. "Blast it... I'll figure it out on my own." Elvira steps over to the man and bows to him. "Greetings Big, greetings Leader. I am Elvira, Wandering Cleric from the Temple of the Moon. This is my friend, Grid. What seems to trouble you so?" The Leader flashes his charismatic smile and bows in return. "Ah! Two fine specimen, if I might say so myself. We've been having trouble with a band of hooligans. Named 'emselves Mud Worms. We usually could ignore 'em, but 'is time 'ey crossed the line! Took ova' 'alf of our bleedin' Bogskippers! Feel like I'm losin' me mind!!!" He flails his arms in a dramatic fashion, accentuating his anger and distress. Elvira gives a warm smile and looks over to Grid. It was about now that Grid noticed why the cleric was so uncomfortable with their presence initially. Her entire body was covered, not even her face was shown. The most skin visible one the elf was her mouth and her hands. Each piece of clothing was designed intricately to cover her form and block even the keenest of outside eyes from deciphering her figure.
"What do you say? Shall we get our hands dirty?"
Quest Name: Skip With Me
Participants: Two or more
Location: Marsh Flats
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: The Marsh Flats have continued to suffer under the wrath of the Mud Worms, the gang quickly gaining more and more control of the region. Recently, they have begun to steal and hoard Bogskippers, valuing their usefulness for navigating the swamps. It is believed that with an army of Bogskippers, they can outfit their gang and become more of a problem. Lilicors is asking for help in freeing and retrieving the Bogskippers, returning them back to their owners. You are asked to find a Mud Worm camp and free any Bogskippers they may be holding there, dispatching of any the members who may try to stop you.
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Post by Grid on Dec 31, 2023 20:40:26 GMT -5
Zabriel stalks behind Grid, just out of view as they walk. As they come to a stop at the road, Grid stands quiet behind Elvira, taking note of the citizens of the village, observing their mannerisms. "Cowardly fools." They mutter under their breath as the Goblin leader speaks. Upon Elvira turning to them, they take note of this, a curious look crossing their face as they furrow their brow with curiosity.
"Not opposed to it. Sooner we deal with this, sooner we can find our person and get the hell out of here. This bog stinks." Their nose furls in disgust as the muddy, humid swamp smell wafts into their nostrils once more. "Nothing like back home, that's for sure. No understanding why you'd live here. Cold makes you harder, but this? This is just torture. What are you training against? A vomit dragon?"
They cross their arms, looking around. "Where are these Mud Worms anyways? Judging by the name, I'd guess in the mud, but that could be anywhere." As they speak, Zabriel walks in between the two of them, staring up at the Ogre and their smaller companion, sniffing around on the ground for any specific and alluring aromas.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Dec 31, 2023 22:41:12 GMT -5
Rena hums softly, silver eyes flicking out from her place in the crowd and zeroing in on Elvira and Grid, feathered head tilting slightly as she considers...yes, perhaps she'll help. fewer potential threats for her yet-unhatched children is always better, and the beast has earned a treat...yes, she'll help out. besides, the bandits might have something useful for her, especially after Bell's glaive was stolen just two weeks back...
Mind made up, the crow slinks out from the crowd and steps up to join the conversation, "...those idiots made themselves one mess o' a bed to lie in, that much's certain. stars, those bogskippers are practically this village's lifesblood, and the fools thought it was a good idea take 'em."
The crow had been staying and helping out the village for the past week, making use of her bayonets for hunting in the swamps. she'd grown rather fond of some of the bogskippers that had been taken, and the Mud Worms had tried to take her eggs more than once. Rena was more than happy to repay that particular debt with blood and pain.
"that said, they're not fool enough to be easy t' track down. I'd need at least a scrap o' cloth or meat off one o' them t' work with, and that would mean leaning into my condition"
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Dec 31, 2023 23:09:59 GMT -5
What could be seen of Elvira's face had practically lit up upon seeing Rena. She threw her hands up with glee and greeted the crow with joy in her voice. "A elenya!1 Hello once more, Mother Crow! Have your journeys been well?"
The Leader gives a small-fanged grin to the group and opens his arms wide, addressing the group. His hands wave and flourish dramatically with each high and low in the sentences, his signature charismatic style making itself quite known. "Well, I'm not quite how t' pay ya's, but I'll think a' s'mthin' by the time ya's get back. Miss Brighteyes knows 'ere the Bogskipper pens are seated, I'd put a few 'olars on 'em leavin' a trace there, the slimey bastards! Do 'urry, loves. Takin' care o' Bogskippers may be easy, but I ain't thinkin' the Mud Worms would know a lick about it!" The members of the trio nod and begin follow Rena to the pens.
During the walk to the pens, Elvira took her longbow off of her back and inspected it. Gently plucking the drawstring, the grain of the wood on the bow begins to glow with a beautiful aura. This causes the slightest hint of a smirk on the cleric's face. She was clearly pleased with her work. On odd part of her was ready to test it out.
Arriving to the pens, the elf stopped just outside and froze. "Good heavens... those Bogskippers are massive... I was told they were cute, I expected a wee little thing just barely big enough to ride! These are the size of a pony!"
It became as clear as a cloudless Moonglade night that Elvira, the seemingly fearless cleric, was afraid of bugs.
1: "Oh my stars!"
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Post by Grid on Jan 1, 2024 0:30:59 GMT -5
"Aye. Not the strangest thing I've seen. Ever seen a Barghest? Nasty buggers." They say with a shrug, walking towards one of the bugs, clicking their tongue. With a quiet bark, Zabriel races over, sniffing around on the ground for a trail of where the Bogskippers might have been taken. Grid, however, heads back to Elvira, placing one of their hands on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Elvira. Stay behind me and you won't even need to look at these Bogsnippers, or whatever. Maybe you'll even like 'em by the end! Who knows?" They laugh, moving their hand to wrap tightly around Elvira's, as if to comfort her.
"As long as I'm here, they won't grab you, alright?" Grid says with a slightly mocking grin. They look to the Avian who'd joined them. "What do you see, feathered one? Anything?" Their words carry a slight air of fascination to them. They'd clearly never met a person like this. Grid turns their attention back to the bugs, trying not to stare at the peculiar feathered creature.
As one of the Bogskippers walks past them, Grid squeezes Elvira's hand, watching it closely. Partly to reassure Elvira, and partly to reassure themselves. As if to say "You will not touch her while I stand." The bug, however simply flicks it's antennae, moving along with it's business.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 1, 2024 1:21:57 GMT -5
Rena tilts her head, crouching low to the ground and grumbling softly to herself as she examines the area around the pen. "...tracks, tracks...bootprints, tracks, nothing unexpected so far..." she mumbles, chirping softly and tracing a blunted talon through the mud as she hums, silver eyes scanning the prints in the mud.
Then she gets to the pen that had been stolen from. One of the sections of fence making it up is busted outward, and...
"...tracks. dinnae ken how noone spotted this before, but the tracks from when the bogskippers were stolen 'aven't been washed away yet. should be pretty simple to follow, provided they didnae follow the deeper paths...but we should prolly 'ave that 'ound o' yours lead just t' be safe," the mother-crow hums, straightening and stretching a little as she stands, "...alright, I'd say we go if'n we're all ready"
She glances back to Grid and Elvira, tilting her head a little and looking them over with silver eyes for a moment before turning away, trilling something about a...fellow cursed having competition?
She doesn't particularly wait for the others to be ready, however, setting off at a brisk walk through the mud, leaving distinctive crowsfoot tracks as she follows the trail of the stolen bogskippers.
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 1, 2024 22:17:49 GMT -5
Elvira recoiled at the hand on her shoulder. She hadn't had a friendly hand on her in... well... since she was 10. She had barely noticed that the warrior had grabbed her hand, as the touch on the shoulder had suddenly flooded her with memories and unexpected emotions. She quickly shoved these down and focused on the task at hand. As the massive bug skitters past her and Grid, she kept a very close eye on it.
Suddenly, something had caught her eye just behind where the bug had come from. She begins to walk there, stopping when she realized her hand was being held. She gently pulls her hand away and moves over to the object. "It looks like a scarf or some type of small clothing. Perhaps could use the dog, or Mother Crow's transformation, to find the bandits should the tracks fall off in a deeper part of the swamp."
She follows Rena out of the pen and passes the cloth to her with a soft smile. "I hope this is enough to work with, Mother Crow. I did not see much else for clues inside the pens." She looks ahead once more, deep in a thought.
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Post by Grid on Jan 1, 2024 23:30:14 GMT -5
As Zabriel walks over, head to the ground, sniffing, he finally barks, grabbing Grid's attention. Grid steps towards the dog, placing their hands on the mane of the dog. He looks up to them with an excited look, panting as they notice a piece of chitin in his mouth. Grid nods. "Can you smell another one, boy?" They say with an excited tone, petting his head. He barks once more, trotting off in a direction, stopping as he looks back to Grid.
Grid smiles, looking to Elvira and Rena. "Crow person. If those wings of yours work, someone flying ahead would be appreciated." Grid says, removing their axe and giving it a look over, now preparing themselves for battle ahead. They mutter in their own language to themselves, grinning as they appreciate the weapon in their hands.
Finally, they take one of the feathers tied in their hair and tie it onto the handle of the battle axe. They nod once, their ritual done, as they finally walk back to Elvira and Rena, satisfied with completing their pre-battle ritual. As they walk, they look to Rena, then to Elvira. "If the Avian goes ahead and flies, I'll be able to keep up with Zabriel. For you, Elvira, you can follow behind, find yourself a suitable position. You may be able to do some work with your longbow yet."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 1, 2024 23:55:06 GMT -5
Rena tilts her head, taking the cloth and frowning, "...I'd like to save my transformation for when it's needed. given the presence of the hound, I rather doubt we'll need my Beast unless it comes down to a fight...and even then, we probably want to take at least some of them alive..." she sniffs it anyway, grimacing at the odor and pointing down to the tracks, "...in any case, these should be a good start. my vote is we follow the tracks until they disappear, then follow the scent from there"
then she glances to Grid, wincing as she flares her wings wings, "...not for long enough. I've been exercising them, but they've yet t' get t' full strength," the crow sighs, cracking her neck and flicking a bayonet from her sleeve to point down the trail from the busted pen, "...we'll find the Mud Worms down this path, most likely. I say we hunt 'em down like the dogs they are and take back those bogskippers"
with that, she cracks her neck again and begins walking down the trail, little crows-foot tracks left behind as she moves not-quite-silently across the marsh.
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 2, 2024 17:59:05 GMT -5
Elvira nodded. She definitely didn't want to force a transformation, partially knowing how it affected her. At the mention and flexion of Rena's wings, she gently took them in her hand. "I would offer to heal these but... I'm not sure how effective it would be. The next time I am in Moonglade, I shall seek out some of my cohorts and inquire about healing a wing. For now, I say we venture forth carefully. Proper scouting of the area will only benefit our cause, as we are in lands more familiar to our foes."
As the three trot through the swamp. Elvira looks over her bow. She had a worried look on her face as she took her hood down. "I must alert both of you, I have never taken a life, only comforted others through the process of passing. Please, forgive me for any hesitation."
Soon, they would hear shouting up ahead. It wasn't angry, or the sound of fighting. Instead, it was the sounds of a celebration. Large bushes peeking out of the wet ground lay ahead, concealing their position as they approached. Just past, a camp lay. A large group of about five people danced around a fire, while three play instruments (rather poorly, as they were off tempo). Two others attended to some pens. Inside, four of the missing bogskippers sat. The bandits by the fire, four men and one female, drank as they danced.
"I believe we've found the coraanur.1 How would you two prefer to proceed?"
1: "Thieves"
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Post by Grid on Jan 2, 2024 18:38:12 GMT -5
Grid shrugs, motioning for them to stay put, as they step out of their brush, removing their battle axe from their back, and planting it into the ground, holding it head down with both hands. Their voiced raised, they shout; "Goblins. Listen here, and pray you listen well." Attempting to exude an air of confidence, they continue.
"I am Grid of Clan Rothnir, daughter of Gyle Erikson, and first of my name. Northmen are not found here often, as I understand it, but you should do well to heed my words." As they say this, Zabriel stalks out of the trees a few meters to the left of them, tracing a line between them and the goblins. "As of current, you are surrounded, on all sides, by thirty of my finest warriors, come south to raid and plunder, as we so often enjoy to do. However, as honorable warriors, we offer you an accord, one which would do you, and your health, well to follow." They shift their axe in the mud.
"You leave this camp, take none but the clothes on your person and the coin in your purse, return to wherever village you call home, and spread word of how we spared your life, this day. We assure you, no harm will be done to you or your kin, however much we may wish to. Our bellies do indeed ache, hungering for the flesh of goblins. But we may settle upon your pets, those bogskippers, as your kind like to call them." They grip their axe's handle grip tighter, a grin across their face, perhaps smug, perhaps trying to hide the fact they were bullshitting out of their teeth, perhaps in an attempt to scare them, for what person could speak about eating goblins, other than a monster, or a barbarian? "Well? What is your response?
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 2, 2024 19:16:42 GMT -5
Rena sighs softly, slinking into the shadows of the bog and circling around to the other side of the camp as Grid speaks, readying a bayonet in each hand as those silver eyes watch.
The bandits startle and tense, turning to face the human and taking a long moment to assess the potential threat...and then they start chuckling, laughing and cackling as they shake their heads. the lone female of the group shakes her head, snapping her fingers to get her compatriots attention and gesturing for them to surround the elf and human, "...thirty men? really? we'd've 'eard 'em comin' from the splashin' alone. no, I don' think we'll be surrendering..."
And then a bayonet slams point-first into the back of her skull, the freshly bloodied blade protruding from her mouth like a second tongue as she rocks and spasms before toppling forward into the mud, very thoroughly dead. The next bayonet sails out of the darkness and into the neck of one of the other bandits, eliciting cries of shock and outrage from the eight survivors.
Rena chuckles to herself in the darkness, readying her next two bayonets even as she watches and waits for the perfect moment to strike.
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 2, 2024 19:54:10 GMT -5
"Always room for violence, I suppose," the cleric whispers to herself. She uses the commotion of the yelling and shouting from the goblins to climb into the tree. She carefully takes the longbow off of her back, nocks an arrow, and pulls it back. As she draws, both the bow and the arrow begin to glow with a radiant light which slowly gets brighter and brighter as the arrow is drawn to the perfect point. She releases it, causing it to streak through the leaves of the tree, across the battlefield, and directly into the chest of one of the goblins standing near the bogskipper pens. The arrow of light glows as the goblin drops. Something about this scene and the presence of a holy weapon in the battle gave a strange sense of hope the others in Elvira's group.
Meanwhile, the goblins had finally gathered their weapons. Some with spears, others with clubs, and a singular goblin with a light crossbow. The goblin with the crossbow, the other one near the pens, loaded an arrow and fired it directly at Elvira. She attempts to move, only to have the point of the bolt land a touch lower. It impales itself into her lower chest, just barely missing a lung. Luckily, the marksman had fired from a range that didn't allow the bolt to bury itself in as deep as possible. She growls with a pained rage and quickly fires off another arrow, this time landing the arrow into his skull.
The cleric moves to another branch and takes the pressure off of herself, allowing a moment to begin assessing her injury.
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Post by Grid on Jan 2, 2024 20:15:40 GMT -5
Grid sees the bolt hit Elvira, and curses, finally raising their axe and charging with a bone rattling roar. Zabriel follows suit, leaping up to one of the goblins near the fire, and grabbing a bite of his weapon, before Grid cleaves the weapon down with a hit to the skull. As Grid is removing their axe, however, a Goblin rushes towards them, blade in hand.
Grid catches the blade quickly, lifting the goblin off his feet, preparing to throw him into the fire. Before that can happen, however, the goblin swings himself forward, knocking the barbarian on their back. The goblin, now in a fit of rage at Grid's murder of his companion, begins to swing violently into their chest, and endless barrage of fists swinging over and over like tiny rocks hitting them in the gut. This simply angers the raging raider more, as they free one of their hands, forcing the goblin off of them and to the ground, grappling with the creature. Grid's flurry of fists repeatedly slam into the goblin's face, bruising Grid's fists as much as it hurts the goblin. A final roar of anger surges through the air as Grid screams. "You. should've. Taken. My. DEAL!" A final punch impacts the Goblin's face, and Grid rises, now panting, covered in mud, but still ready to fight with their bare fists.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 2, 2024 22:42:49 GMT -5
Rena grins, sending another pair of bayonets flying out to slam into the skulls of two adjacent goblins before the crow rushes forward to retrieve her thrown blades. She slips all save two up her sleeves, grimacing at the feel of blood against the feathers and scales of her forearms even as she ices over and sharpens the two blades in her hands.[cold touch] With that done, she rushes the nearest goblin, icy blades slashing through flesh and bone.
The unfortunate goblin falls, very thoroughly dead as the crow moves on to the next, an icy blade blocking a goblin's jagged shortsword as Rena's eyes flash white, "...you really should've taken the deal...we may not outnumber you, but that doesnae matter at this point"
The goblins, meanwhile, rush the three adventurers with rusty weapons and slipshod technique, howling with rage as they slash and stab and desperately block.
Rena takes a spear to the wing, crying out and instinctively flaring the appendage as she spins to drive an iced-over bayonet into the offender's skull. It's about then that she begins to shift, bones shattering and shifting, lengthening and reforming, her flesh stretching thin over too-long bones as the Beast lets out an agonized, enraged scream.
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