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 The Third Age

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Jax

Jax

Posts : 441
Poké : 2115
Join date : 2013-04-17

The Third Age Empty
PostSubject: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptyThu Oct 16, 2014 4:32 am

She jolted awake, her chains rattling as she pulled away from the wall. She blinked a few times and groaned, trying to remember. The cuffs were cold and damp against her skin, binding her ankles and wrists. From high above, moonlight streamed in through a tiny barred window, washing the cell in a cool glow. Outside in the hall she watched torchlight flicker against the wall as one of the guards strolled by. A four pointed star emblazoned on his chest piece told her the piece was Beoremian.

She remembered now. They had ambushed her in the night. How they had found her was a mystery, but they had come in force. At least ten of them. They had startled her from sleep, but she had no chance. There were to many. She remembered biting one, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, her fangs sinking deep. Next she was here, in Beorem she presumed, chained and clothed in only her undergarments.

Her body was toned and fit, with deep caramel skin. She sported a noticeably pronounced chest and womanly hips. Her tail slowly flicked back and forth behind her, large wolf ears flicked back and forth over silver hair, catching minute sounds echoing through the hall. In the dark her eyes seemed to shine, the light bouncing off the back of her pupils.

Her mouth was dry. It must have been a while since she had drank anything. She called to a passing gaurd, but it came out muffled. She looked down. A muzzle. How cute. She groaned. Chained, muzzled, and struck by a pounding headache, all she could do wait. They'd be down soon to talk. Given her history, she guessed they wouldn't be gentle.

She sighed and turned her head. She saw other prisoners in separate cells, all thrown in together. They had been thoughtful enough to give her a private cell. A chocolate under the pillow would have been appreciated. Three guards were patrolling the halls, all heavily armed, but slightly drowsy. It must have been very late.

She growled, the effect being muffled by the leather over her mouth. She didn't mind waiting when it was needed, but not when she was chained and gagged. As off put as she was, the Ranger closed her eyes and bared it. Her chance would come eventually. She had to speak with them, whether they would believe her or not.

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Praeceps Prolocutoris

Official Dudeist Priest of the PMD. Also PMD's resident Doomsayer of Sithrak the Blind Gibberer.

"If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." - Zen proverb
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Dracorexion

Dracorexion

Posts : 2129
Poké : 1760
Join date : 2012-08-04

The Third Age Empty
PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptyThu Oct 16, 2014 7:16 am

Raymond walked in silence as two guards led him into the cells, a third walking behind him with a sword ready to stab at his neck. His shirt was half socked in blood from the fighting he had just been in, and none of it was his own. As the trio of guards and he caught up to the one in torchlight, the group began to speak while he was leaned against the wall. "Gerald, where's Malina, Samuel, and Jameson?" the one with the torch asked.

The guard groaned, lowering his sword from Raymond before he turned towards the other. "Man here killed Malina and Samuel before he was able to nearly hack Jameson's arm off. We found him just as he killed some cleric from Calthus. He was able to kill them both leave Jameson's arm hanging by literally a thread before we finally got him under control."

The torch bearing guard looked at Raymond in shock, "Impossible... One man took them all down? Three of our men taken out? By this one man? Why is he still alive then!?" As he said that he began to take his sword out, which prompted the guard named Gerald to respond by raising his own. "Stop! He was drunker than any man I've seen. While he was still able to hold a sword, he couldn't hold his tongue, and his breath smelt like he had more than he could handle. I want him dead as well, but we have laws we must follow as well. Drunk or not, he'll be executed for his crimes. If he's not then he'll rot in prison."

The torch bearing guard growled to himself before sheathing his sword, "Fine, throw him in near the back. We got a couple more drunks back there. I'll move him if he does anything to them." The group then separated, the torch bearing guard heading up the hall while Gerald and the other two guards walked towards the muzzled woman. When they were just a couple of cells away, the turned, opening up a cell with a large man in dusty, partially burnt clothes as if he were a blacksmith and a skinny man who whore tattered rags and seemed to be in a more comfortable place than the streets he normally lived in.

The two guards pushed Raymond inside. "Turn around, boy," Gerald said as he closed the door behind Raymond. The young man obeyed, turning around to face the older guard. Gerald reached out and grabbed a hold of Raymond's cuffs, pulling him towards the door before unlocking the restraints. "Try not to kill anyone. You're not in the best position already, don't sour it."

With that the guards left, Raymond watched them for a moment before he sat next to the large man, bowing his head as he stared down at the ground, letting his head clear from the fight he was in more than the alcohol in his system. He couldn't believe he was captured so easily, and he cursed himself for succumbing to the numbing effect of the beer. While he did get his target, he had so many more. So many more who had to pay.

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Silver

Silver

Posts : 1730
Poké : 6040
Join date : 2014-05-16
Location : Right behind you with a knife.

The Third Age Empty
PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptyThu Oct 16, 2014 11:30 pm

Daniel stared up at the circular formation of thick, grey-stone walls. The stupid Fey-Ranger he'd been following for weeks in hopes of poisoning her had gotten herself captured and locked away behind the fortress walls. He had tried to sneak into the fortress so many times, he had lost count. Unfortunately, he'd always gotten caught before even reaching past the outer wall. Luckily, since he had the appearance of a child, the guards merely laughed at him each time and tossed him back onto the streets.

Daniel found himself awake more and more these days, which he took as a good sign. It meant that the Warlock was slipping in his control. It meant that he was closer to killing the cursed man. But until that day, he was bound to his Master's will. And his Master wished the Fey to die. She had interrupted one of his Master's important rituals, messing up the results and ending in much pain on his Master, and, as a consequence, to Daniel as his Master became even more irritable than normal.

So, his Master's orders to find the Fey and poison her was not met with as much resistance as normal. Daniel had his own bone to pick with the Fey, and he'd rather torture her before killing her, but then, his Master hadn't specifically ordered that she COULDN'T suffer before he poisoned her... Daniel was broken out of his thoughts by a guard shouting at him. He had been standing in front of the wall too long.

The guard lifted him up by his collar, and Daniel had to resist growling at him. "Haven't I seen you before?" the guard demanded, glaring at him. Daniel didn't respond, just staring at the guard with cold eyes. "Perhaps a night in the sewers will prevent you from coming back," the guard growled, carrying him over to a grate in the middle of the street. He unlocked the padlock over the grate, tossed him in, and shut the grate, presumably locking it again. Daniel didn't know, because he was too busy falling into disgusting, slimy water to care.

Daniel spluttered as he broke the surface of the water, kicking his legs wildly and thrashing his arms about in an attempt to keep afloat. His Master had never had him enter the water before, so he did not know how to swim! He choked as his head dunked under the water again, and he would have gagged at the taste and smell of whatever else was in the water with him if he hadn't been too busy trying to rid his esophagus of said water and other materials.

He bumped his head against something, and then his head broke the surface of the water again. He was against the side of the sewage tunnel, where there was a ledge that was only a few inches under the water. He scrambled on top of it, and retched, trying to rid himself of the water and ...other... materials. Eventually he stopped gagging, and sat there miserably, trying desperately not to think about what had just happened, lest he start puking again. He shivered, wrapping his arms around his body, cursing his predicament and the Master who had sent him into it.

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Savato

Savato

Posts : 3443
Poké : 380
Join date : 2012-08-08

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PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptySat Oct 18, 2014 2:17 pm

Slowly the man's eyelids fluttered open.
As his mind slowly filled with energy again, the comprehension of where he was began to set in.
Trying to sit upright or at least to get his head in a more comfortable position the human groaned in pain as a wave of pain surged through his body. Ignoring his body's cries for him to stop he somehow managed to get into a sitting poision again, finally able to inspect himself. He certainly wasn't in good shape. His torso, which had gotten rather thin was covered in cuts, bruises and burns, most of them having barely begun to heal.
A muffled chuckle escaped the man.
It probably had been quite the battle that had brought these wounds onto him.
But...how did that battle go? What exactly had happened to get himself here?
For some reason...his mind was feeling heavy as a rock and about as useful as well.
He couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus. The memories of the previous days refused to return to him.
But why? Did he injure his head when he got here?
No, his wounds had healed too much and he had gotten way too thin for this to have happened just yesterday. So then maybe it was just the lack of sleep he had gotten?
Maybe. But...no, that couldn't be. He had stayed up long, often skipped sleep entirely in his younger days of training his magical abilities.
So...had he been drugged then? But how? Through the food most likely.
Now this presented a problem. Of course he could easily just ignore the food he was given but as much as he hated to admit it - he was still human and considering his physical condition he needed to eat. Urgently.
So what was he sup-...what was that?
Had he?
The man had completely forgotten about his powers!
Now he would just have to ignore the food for one day or two. It would be painful for sure, but afterwards his concentration should have improved enough to simply melt his shackles and those stupid bars, incinerate those guards in the area and then burn open some door to get him out of this place where he could easily set ablaze a village and steal all the food he could ever need and want in the middle of the burning, panicked villagers. And then he-...
"NNGH!", the magician muttered.
He would have screamed in pain, but as he had noticed just now there was something foul-tasting in his mouth. Probably some rag of some sort to serve as a makeshift gag. Just great.
But for now he had other matters to be concerned with than how to undo that gag of his.
Where had that burning, scalding hot pain come from?
A thumping, pressuring feeling in his forehead once again reminded him of a horrible truth.
This was the punishment for trying to wander on the path of power...or evil as those too weak to grasp it called it. This was his mark of shame. His one greatest failure.
On his forehead a strange symbol faintly glowing in a whitish blue became visible for a short moment, then it disappeared again.
The symbol of his torment.
Slowly his memories began to return. How he had ended up here.
A regiment of guards at his doorstep. Quite a battle. Everyone shouting and burning. And then all went black. At least he was still capable of acting in self-defense or what he percieved as such.
But how was he supposed to self-defend himself out of this accursed place?
How was he supposed to focus anyway?
With all these drugs affecting his mind he would most likely fail to control himself and set something ablaze he hadn't even intended to. The most simple of spells could go horribly awry in a terrible accident. Yes...in an "accident"...


----


"Uurgh...what had happened? Her head hurt like hell and her eyelids refused to open. The ground she was lying on was hard and cold and her mouth was filled with the taste of vomit.
"Must have had one great evening yesterday." the woman tried to speak but in her state inly unintellegible mumbling was audible. Slowly the woman tried to stand up, but in her still quite inebriated state she would have fallen straight on her face, would there not have been something holding her upright. What was it? It was cold and smooth and hard.
Of course!
The floor definitely was made of stone, not wood like the floors of most bars so even though the pungent smell of unwashed drunks and alcohol was filling the air here as well, she should have noticed the difference much sooner. She wasn't in that pub anymore, she was in the prison of Beorem. Again.
What had she done? Probably she stole something without noticing it or she vomited on a guard or she started a bar brawl. There were many reasons why Lira had been here before. Most of them were related to acting under the influence of spirits.
The alcoholic ones of course. She wasn't insane. Okay, maybe she was insane but she wasn't that insane. Not yet.
So, what to do now? On the one hand her throbbing headache and the laws of the area demanded of her to stay here and sober up again, but on the other hand Lira had never really cared for the laws and why should she listen to something that was doing nothing but cause her pain and annoyances?
And the headache she wouldn't listen to either.
So, how should she get out of here?
She hated to admit it, but the people who built this prison were remarkably competent.
Getting out of here wouldn't be easy - especially not on her own.
Maybe she could find some other guys to escape with?
But first she would have to get out of her cell somehow...
And then she'd finally be able to set sail again.

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Jax

Jax

Posts : 441
Poké : 2115
Join date : 2013-04-17

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PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptySat Oct 25, 2014 10:45 pm

((Fox's post has been skipped. I will be skipping mine due to the fact that Mira is chained and muzzled. Not much I can do besides describe the scenery until someone interacts with her.))

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Praeceps Prolocutoris

Official Dudeist Priest of the PMD. Also PMD's resident Doomsayer of Sithrak the Blind Gibberer.

"If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." - Zen proverb
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Dracorexion

Dracorexion

Posts : 2129
Poké : 1760
Join date : 2012-08-04

The Third Age Empty
PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptySun Oct 26, 2014 5:32 am

(Welp, hope what I do in this post is alright Jax.)

As the guards continued to...well guard, one who seemed to be of much higher rank than those currently present walked up, "I need all men and women above private class in the mess hall, we've got orders from higher up that we must attend to." With that sentence, Raymond smirked from within his cell. Several of the guards left with the higher ranking one, the only one staying being the torch bearing guard.

Raymond waited, silently counting the steps the guard took has he made his rounds up and down the hall. 1, 2, 3...15, 16, 17...39, 40, 41...77, 78, 79. Seventy nine steps to travel this hallway. He crosses my cell on the 70th. Plenty of time, he thought before turning to the two men in the same cell as him. He couldn't have them stopping him, so he'd best deal with them first.

Raymond stood up and popped his knuckle and neck, getting himself ready to take the two out as quickly as possible. Neither seemed to notice, the scrawny man asleep on his bench while the larger just stared out the window. Raymond quickly took his chance. He wrapped his arm around the larger man's throat and pulled him tight, beginning to suffocate the man just before he placed his hand over the man's mouth. Caught off guard, the larger man began to struggle, trying to grasp at Raymond's hand as he was choked out in silence. Raymond ducked as best he could, dodging the beefy hands of the man until finally he began to stop struggling. Raymond gently let him go, letting the man lean against the wall as if he fell asleep instead of passed out from lack of air.

Raymond then turned towards the scrawny man, who seemed to be as deep as sleeper as he was scrawny. Raymond picked the man up and did the same to him as he did to the larger man. The scrawny little man only seemed to wake up halfway through where he began to struggle, but it was too late for him, as just as quickly he was still. Raymond lay him back down as well, with just five steps left until the guard crossed his cell. The guard looked over to Raymond, who had sat himself back down.

"Ya know, I should kill you now while the rest of them are away. I just can't seem to decide whether letting you rot in prison or kill you now is best," he said as he looked down upon Raymond. Raymond looked up at him, "Revenge is a tricky dish, isn't it? I should know. Tell ya what, let's flip a coin on what you should do. Heads you kill me now, tails you let me rot," Raymond said with a slight smirk. The guard was fuming, reaching into the cell and grabbing Raymond by the shirt. Pulling him up to the bars, the guard growled at him, "Do you really think this is a game!? You killed two of my friends and nearly killed a third!"

Raymond stared at the man coldly, "And yet I'm here with not even a scratch. Why do you think that is? Shouldn't I be wounded from fighting several of your friends?" he asked. The guard stared at him for a moment in confused silence. Raymond took the opportunity. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around the back of the guard's head, pulling it forward and into the bars of the cell. The guard groaned, dazed by the sudden attack until he was suddenly turned around, Raymond's arm wrapped around his neck just like it was with the two drunkards. The guard tried to call out, but Raymond tightened his grip, the guard's voice giving out. With the last of his ebbing strength, the guard attempted to reach for his sword, but Raymond was quicker, grabbing a hold of the guard's arm and twisting it behind his back and around the bar.

The guard continued to struggle, trying to grab at his sword with his other hand, but Raymond pulled on his neck hard, tugging him against the bar. There was a quick snap before the guard became silent, slumping down. Raymond frowned slightly before he grabbed the keys from the guard's limp body. Unlocking his cell, Raymond pulled the guard's body inside. Several seconds later Raymond stepped out, dressed in the guard's clothes, the guard's body now wearing Raymond's clothes and set up as if he were sleeping in the cell.

"Now then, time for a distraction," Raymond said as he whistled to himself, walking from cell to cell, unlocking them all. "Congratulation men and women, you have been released early from your imprisonment, now please, have fun causing mayhem," he said before unlocking the door to the outer hall, allowing the prisoners to rampage out.

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Kestro's Speech: [color=#DEB887][/color]
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Jax

Jax

Posts : 441
Poké : 2115
Join date : 2013-04-17

The Third Age Empty
PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptyFri Oct 31, 2014 1:57 pm

((Hale's post has been skipped.))

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Praeceps Prolocutoris

Official Dudeist Priest of the PMD. Also PMD's resident Doomsayer of Sithrak the Blind Gibberer.

"If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." - Zen proverb
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Savato

Savato

Posts : 3443
Poké : 380
Join date : 2012-08-08

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PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age EmptySat Nov 01, 2014 1:08 am

Now, what could be done that had a high chance of highly dangerous accidents happening?
Maybe he could-
With a screech the cell door opened all of a sudden, a young man in front of it, talking something about release and mayhem. Now Gareth would be all too happy to follow this fellow's invitation, whichever foolish reasoning he may have had to release a prison full of dangerous criminals and the like upon the world, but the idiot had forgotten to unlock his shackles and neither had he undone his gag, so the elementalist was still forced to remain inside his cell, unable to "politely remind" the man of his mistake.
But...wasn't it the duty of any law-abiding citizen to try and stop justly imprisonded prisoners from escaping if possible for them?
Yes...there wasn't anything morally objectionable to that. So either he could stop the prisoners from escaping and thus get reve-uh, notify the kind gentleman of having missed his shackles, or, should his concentration fail him, he might set something else of interest on fire.
Trying to channel his inner energy, the magician directed the power of fire towards the individual, who had just opened the cell doors. His hair to be precise. People with their hair on fire rarely were able to coordinate an escape, so this action should keep the shady character around for a while longer. Additionally it would most likely lead to this indiviual looking for the source of the fire, which in turn would lead to him discovering Gareth and either opening his shackles or attacking him. The former was a desirable outcome, the latter would allow for self-defense. And since this person seemed to be carrying the keys with them, he would get away one way or the other. Only to warn the populace of the escaping criminals of course.
And so an endeavour of channeling began...


All of a sudden the doors to Lira's cell opened. Had she stolen someone's lucky talisman or something? She usually never was this lucky, but she obviously wasn't going to complain about this happenstance either. With a cheerful smile on her face, the sailor was almost about to leave the cell as she fell flat on her face. Of course - those stupid shackles. How could she have forgotten those? The alcohol's fault probably. Oh, once she got out of here, she would never drink again. Heh, who was she kidding? It'd probably be five minutes until she would be completely hammered again.
But first - how to get out of here? The people around her seemed to be even more drunk than she was, some not even realizing that the doors had been opened, so they wouldn't be of much help.
And Lira wasn't drunk enough to cut off her own leg just yet. Not that there'd have been something she could have done so with. So her best bet would be to get that gentleman with the keys back to her cell to have him release her. But how would she do that?

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PostSubject: Re: The Third Age   The Third Age Empty

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