The Vampires of Ansien, Elinie

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

There is little time for such tricks, its claw against blade, will against will. And your blade and your will is the stronger; the holy warriors of Haelyn, armed with a holy relics, are not undone by simple shadowspawn! With a final mighty heave you cleave the beast near enough in twain, only to have it torn to mist before your eyes! The mist disappears into the dark...

"Praise Haelyn" muttered Robhan swiftly bandaging his wounds.   For a moment he considered following the fleeing mist, before shunning such idea as folly.  He had proven victorious through the grace of the gods, but the others might have fared less well - and the true danger was the vampire queen, the Patriarch had no doubt vanquished his foe already with the aid of the blessed Sun Sword and he should not face so terrible a foe alone...

Shadow and illusion had separated the companions, light and truth would take him back to his fellows, Ruornil show me the path through these deceptions thought Robhan looking for any sign of his companions, any sign of tear in the veil of illusions about him that might lead him back to his fellows, but in vain, nothing.  Robhan frowned, then concentrated hard on the light on his helm, seeing it as a veritable shard of the blessed sun until it burnt like a beacon in the gloom, Haelyn was king of kings, glorious were the luminaries of his court - his vizier high amongst them.  Bright Lady Avani, show me the path to those in need, burn aside the shadows and let me see my companions...

Striding confidently forth Robhan readied himself for battle again...

[DM B]

IC:

Elamien stares into the banquet hall for some seconds, as she gathers her poise; then, glancing down at the sad sign of decapitation, she shakes her head, stands, and steps over it.  She walks around for a time, searching for she knows not what, yet searching none the less. . . . At length, aided by a make-shift torch, she approaches the bedroom, in which she apparently slept, in order to discover some means of escaping her isolation.  Entering, she advances to the window, whence came the cold half-light of a false and shadowy dawn, when she awoke upon this darksome day. . . .

You find Hierophant Gaerred Khaiarén of the LPA on the grand canopied bed...he seems awake, but confused. You suddenly get a feeling that all is not well with the High Hierophant.

Outside you see a darkened courtyard, surrounded by a high wall, with spikes atop. Numerous torches cast some light, but a thick and damp mist covers the ground, limiting visibility. You thinks you see dark shapes in the mist...guards...and other things; worgs perhaps? Though you are on the the second floor, you could easily climb down - if you wished it.

Gaerred Khaiarén is now awake an demands to know what this madness is; he dream of his mistress being torn to shreds by her own monks. Surely this is a nightmare? But wait, there is someone else in the bed with the Hierophant - Nairae Dhon. Surely they have not been...fornicating? It must be a trick of this place...

[DM B]

She curses, dropping her staff-spear.

She reaches low to the ground, before spinning invoke the Saints of Avani to her cause and protection, enveloping herself in wispy bluish flames, casting a small glow [Fire Shield, Sun Domain]. With the same fluid motion draws her saber, and braces her for them.

The onslaught is swift and deadly but the attackers underestimate the small woman.  The first Worg slam into her head on knocking Medlorhie back, and causing the two flanking Worgs to miss their target.  As the first worg recoils from the flames, Medlorhie slices downward with her saber, a vicious blow which cleaves its snout in two.  The second Worg swipes her leg, where her armor is thin. The blow draws blood and takes her left out from under her; she lands heavily, but the second Worg stumbles on a badly burned paw.  Her saber sprawls away, as she claws for her nearby spear.

The third Worg leaps slamming into Medlorhie on the ground. There is the satisfying crunch of bone, as Medlorhie cries out in pain from a broken rib.  Yet, Medlorhie's is not the only cry, for the Worg, wholly exposed to the flames, shrieks in pain, before rolling in the side. 

She reaches her spear and stands shakily.  The second Worg circles menacing near her, obviously favoring its left paw.  Blood is running down her leg, making movement a little precarious.  They circle a few moments, Medlorhie, summons light from her spear [Light]. The Worg springs, Medlorhie drops to the ground, only to thrust up with the business end of her spear, skewering the Worg for a brief moment (Kabob anyone?).

Medlorhie stands to survey the area to locate 'her' vampire when from the darkness a chair flies, slamming hard into Medlorhie and propelling her into the wall behind her.  For a moment she is dazed, yet she stands.

"You are too old. Are you not growing tired, High Hierophant?" A taunting voices calls from the darkness beyond the reach of her light.

A plate flies from the darkness, Medlorhie only barely dodges, but the motion wracks her body with pain. She circles to her sword picking it up ever so carefully.

Medlorehie knows that she cannot last long; she is a priestess not a warrior.  A sage, not a swordsman. She steels herself, and silently gives a prayer to the Lady, only to be blessed with inspiration.

Medlorhie smiles every so slightly into the darkness.

"Do you greet death with a smile, Light of Avanlae?" The taunting voice responds tinged with the huff of exertion.

Medlorhie hurls her spear in the direction of the voice, reaching up to her holy symbol, while calling on the light of the Lady.  As it flies, it passes by a table heading in the opposite direction.  Just as the Vampire is revealed, Medlorhie releases a searing ray of Avani's retribution [Searing  Light], only to promptly have a table crash into her, slamming her to the a wall, which she slowly slides down.

Medlorhie looks up to find her own warrior-monks standing around her; their blood-less lips drawn back to reveal wicked fangs. Then they descend upon her and the darkness comes rushing in...

Medlorhie is out; either dead or otherwise 'incapacitated'. Your warrior-monks have turned vampire-spawn, but Khaiarén and Dhon are no here to take up the light, so to speak.

[DM B]

Bjorn leaves the remains of the vampire on the ground, and takes a good look around [OOC: Spot]. He does not look ready to believe that this vampire was the only one stalking him. Not when his life is on the line.

He starts walking carefully in the dark [OOC: Move Silently] listening for the faintest sound [OOC: Listen], always one hand touching the wall (to avoid losing all sense of direction and perspective of the room). He is searching for a door, a way out of the room. Right now he is concerned about the others. Frankly, they did not seem to him to have been ready for this kind of fight. He was a survivalist, and it was time to put his skills in use.

If Bjorn finds a way out, he will try to take it, very carefully. He also tries to remember the face of the Patriarch Rashid. After having heard a lot of stories about the Shadow World, he is willing to try almost everything to find the others, even if it seems useless and a bunch of superstitions to him.

Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.

[DM B]

Pain... Life is pain. Sleep now. No... Not yet. Drowsily Rashid drags himself into a sitting position, heaving deep breaths after being winded, battered, drained, sliced and even spattered with various foods. It tough to be the Patriarch, but someones got to do it.

He pushes aside debris, as he crawls first to the Sun Sword, picking it up for its light, then as fast as he is able, he moves to Maester Kaleiman and praying for the strength to do so, lets his last powers of healing flow into the old man.

Then he tends to himself, using wraps of cloth to stem bleeding. The bite marks sieving a leak that thankfully seems to be clotting. He wraps them and is pleased that the high collar somewhat covers the bandage.

His left arm is aching badly, its definately sprained, and the bone might have cracked a little, so he ties it up over his chest.

Checking the Maester, Rashid begins to wonder if this nightmare will ever end. For now, he is content to sit with Kaleiman, sword glowing, just gathering his thoughts and a little strength.

He has taken his mask off, the air is thick with smoke from the small fires, and it is too hot to do anything really. Just a little rest...

You manage to stabilize the old wizard, before settling down on the floor, sword in your lap. You are done for; if they should attack again, you would have nothing to fight them with. Why don't they come? Have the others defeated all their opponents perhaps?

[DM B]

There is little time for such tricks, its claw against blade, will against will. And your blade and your will is the stronger; the holy warriors of Haelyn, armed with a holy relics, are not undone by simple shadowspawn! With a final mighty heave you cleave the beast near enough in twain, only to have it torn to mist before your eyes! The mist disappears into the dark...

"Praise Haelyn" muttered Robhan swiftly bandaging his wounds.   For a moment he considered following the fleeing mist, before shunning such idea as folly.  He had proven victorious through the grace of the gods, but the others might have fared less well - and the true danger was the vampire queen, the Patriarch had no doubt vanquished his foe already with the aid of the blessed Sun Sword and he should not face so terrible a foe alone...

Shadow and illusion had separated the companions, light and truth would take him back to his fellows, Ruornil show me the path through these deceptions thought Robhan looking for any sign of his companions, any sign of tear in the veil of illusions about him that might lead him back to his fellows, but in vain, nothing.  Robhan frowned, then concentrated hard on the light on his helm, seeing it as a veritable shard of the blessed sun until it burnt like a beacon in the gloom, Haelyn was king of kings, glorious were the luminaries of his court - his vizier high amongst them.  Bright Lady Avani, show me the path to those in need, burn aside the shadows and let me see my companions...

Striding confidently forth Robhan readied himself for battle again...

You feel a flare of holiness in the accursed place and make your way towards it; its confusing, corridors and rooms and hallways. Always more. But you keep the flare in your mind and try and ignore the manor as best you can...and then suddenly you think you see them - Patriarch Dauota, sitting next to Maester Kaleiman, look none too good, but alive!

You are about to approach them - when a hulking dark shape suddenly materializes to your right; a terrible werewolf or some such!

[X-Mhoried/Droene Kavarra (Iasonas)]

Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.

Bjorn examines the High Marshal's figure intensely [OOC: Spot]. He does not want to fall into a trap in this accursed place. He checks for anything strange on the High Marshal's movement (usually the first feature to betray a false identity), his face, his eyes, and the fluctuations of his voice (if he speaks His intention).

If he is certain that this is the High Marshal, he moves with his claymore in his hands and says:

"Greetings High Marshal. What is my tribe's name?".
This is an information he shared with the High Marshal, while they were travelling together to Ansien.

[X-Points East]

IC:

Elamien stares into the banquet hall for some seconds, as she gathers her poise; then, glancing down at the sad sign of decapitation, she shakes her head, stands, and steps over it.  She walks around for a time, searching for she knows not what, yet searching none the less. . . . At length, aided by a make-shift torch, she approaches the bedroom, in which she apparently slept, in order to discover some means of escaping her isolation.  Entering, she advances to the window, whence came the cold half-light of a false and shadowy dawn, when she awoke upon this darksome day. . . .

You find Hierophant Gaerred Khaiarén of the LPA on the grand canopied bed...he seems awake, but confused. You suddenly get a feeling that all is not well with the High Hierophant.

Outside you see a darkened courtyard, surrounded by a high wall, with spikes atop. Numerous torches cast some light, but a thick and damp mist covers the ground, limiting visibility. You thinks you see dark shapes in the mist...guards...and other things; worgs perhaps? Though you are on the the second floor, you could easily climb down - if you wished it.

Gaerred Khaiarén is now awake an demands to know what this madness is; he dream of his mistress being torn to shreds by her own monks. Surely this is a nightmare? But wait, there is someone else in the bed with the Hierophant - Nairae Dhon. Surely they have not been...fornicating? It must be a trick of this place...

IC:

"A nightmare, it may well be", laughs Elamien, with a generally sombre face, as she slowly shifts her attention away from the courtyard below to Gaerred Khaiarén . . . and Nairae Dhon, as it would apparently seem.  She glances at each of them in turn, holding their eyes ever so briefly; then adds, as she turns away, looking out the window once more, "There is some clothing laid out on the dresser." . . . After some moments spent in relative silence, Elamien again speaks, "I know not the fate of the High Hierophant; but I, too, have a feeling that all is not well with her.  If the two of you are ready, then I suggest that we attempt to find her within this mansion; for, without, I do not think that we would find aught but evil."  And, believing them to be fully dressed, she faces them, awaiting their replies. . . .

[DM B]

Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.

Bjorn examines the High Marshal's figure intensely [OOC: Spot]. He does not want to fall into a trap in this accursed place. He checks for anything strange on the High Marshal's movement (usually the first feature to betray a false identity), his face, his eyes, and the fluctuations of his voice (if he speaks His intention).

If he is certain that this is the High Marshal, he moves with his claymore in his hands and says:

"Greetings High Marshal. What is my tribe's name?".
This is an information he shared with the High Marshal, while they were travelling together to Ansien.

And suddenly the High Marshal realizes that the werewolf is speaking to him - in accented Anuirean...and then there is no werewolf, only Bjorn the Fell-handed.

Yonder you see the Patriarch turn to gaze at you, confusion slowly being replaced by understanding as the seeming lifts and is replaced by a semblance of reality. Robhan and Bjorn is in the corridor, with the wizard and the Patriarch is in the banquet hall, and behind you all emerges Lamier and two others. The High Hierophant is nowhere to be seen...

[X-Elinie/RiD (Niels)]

Seeing first the High Marshal, Rashid yells; "Robhan! - Maester Kaleiman is gravely hurt..." Rashid tries to rise, but collapses back onto his knees. "...he needs your healing."

Noticing the forms behind the High Marshal; "And you are all safe! - Thank Avanalae for her light." His eyes goes to Elamien, but then he notices the missing hero.

"Medhlorie? - Where is the High Hierophant?" Once again he tries to rise, this time using the Sun Sword for support, and he makes it to standing up, slightly shaking.

[X-Points East]

IC:

States Elamien, "Her absence bodes not well." . . .

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

To the wilder-folk you are Thultrakka - and proudly won that name was, for not all warriors prove themselves worthy to bear it and to the wanderers of the fells I am known as Fireheart, for my warmth and generosity of course.

Carefully keeping his sword low Robhan thanked Haelyn for Bjorn's wit in calling out...

Considering the illusion he so nearly fell for, Robhan calls ahead to the Patriarch as he hastens towards him, "this is a place of fell illusion - but only those godly can sing holy prayer" as he approaches Robhan says a simple prayer spoken by many knights before they accept holy vows.

Great Haelyn, accept my heart this day
And make it always Thine,
That I from Thee never shall stray,
Nor from thy laws decline.

Anoint me with Thy heavenly grace,
Adopt me for Thine own,
That I may see Thy glorious face
And worship at Thy throne.

Let every thought and work and word
To Thee be ever given;
Then life shall be Thy service, Lord,
And death the gate of heaven.

He looks at the Patriarch, clearly awaiting his response as he comes closer.

[X-Elinie/RiD (Niels)]

To the wilder-folk you are Thultrakka - and proudly won that name was, for not all warriors prove themselves worthy to bear it and to the wanderers of the fells I am known as Fireheart, for my warmth and generosity of course.

Carefully keeping his sword low Robhan thanked Haelyn for Bjorn's wit in calling out...

Considering the illusion he so nearly fell for, Robhan calls ahead to the Patriarch as he hastens towards him, "this is a place of fell illusion - but only those godly can sing holy prayer" as he approaches Robhan says a simple prayer spoken by many knights before they accept holy vows.

Great Haelyn, accept my heart this day
And make it always Thine,
That I from Thee never shall stray,
Nor from thy laws decline.

Anoint me with Thy heavenly grace,
Adopt me for Thine own,
That I may see Thy glorious face
And worship at Thy throne.

Let every thought and work and word
To Thee be ever given;
Then life shall be Thy service, Lord,
And death the gate of heaven.

He looks at the Patriarch, clearly awaiting his response as he comes closer.

The Patriarch, almost too weary to stand and feeling the darkness creep in at the edge of his sight due to loss of blood, merely smile before he rasps; "Atleast I know you are not the spawn of darkness... And you should know that the Dark cannot abide the touch of the Sun Sword, yet I hold it freely... or rather, lean on it, lest I ignobly fall to my knees."

Seeing that Robahn hesitates, he exasperates hoarsely; "By the Light of Avanalae, may your Grace ever return after the darkest Night, that we shall ever know your promise of life and renewal..." Rashid trails off and keels over, fainting from lack of blood.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

The Patriarch, almost too weary to stand and feeling the darkness creep in at the edge of his sight due to loss of blood, merely smile before he rasps; "Atleast I know you are not the spawn of darkness... And you should know that the Dark cannot abide the touch of the Sun Sword, yet I hold it freely... or rather, lean on it, lest I ignobly fall to my knees."

Seeing that Robahn hesitates, he exasperates hoarsely; "By the Light of Avanalae, may your Grace ever return after the darkest Night, that we shall ever know your promise of life and renewal..." Rashid trails off and keels over, fainting from lack of blood.

Robhan dashed forward and caught the patriarch as he fell, calling on Haelyn's Grace he summoned the Paladin's gift of healing to close the worst of the Patriarch wounds, barely pausing Robhan called to Nesirie for her aid in keeping the Patriarch's soul bound within his body and prepared a lengthier prayer to bind torn muscle and vein...

[X-Mhoried/Droene Kavarra (Iasonas)]

Bjorn stays behind the High Marshal, guarding him while he performs the healing. He is ready to attack on sight in case any of the accursed creatures makes its appearance [OOC: Spot]. Once the High Marshal finishes his prayer, he says in a low voice:

"Good to see you again High Marshal. Were you by any chance attacked by any of these lifeless beasts?"

He waits for the High Marshal's response.