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Post by Corey the GM on Oct 15, 2014 14:29:44 GMT -5
It took the group a couple of hours to wrap back around towards the path. Dralban luckily kept the group together as they pushed through the briar bushes and dense foliage further and further away from the pounding drums until they could no longer hear them. Then, when no sounds or notice that someone may have followed them; they move back in a north easterly direction and found the trail.
Eventually and by the graces of the gods, Bilkin stumbled upon the group from the opposite side of the trail. He was clearly shaken up and covered in sticky twigs.
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Post by lloyd on Oct 17, 2014 16:34:33 GMT -5
(OOC: www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TD_pSeNelU)Seeing his party, Bilkin sighed with relief. He had to break off his dooming Witch Bolt from the bandit because of a very, VERY permeating, sonorous mumble from Him, and an urge to head towards a very specific tree. Unfortunately, once he got to the tree after a somewhat desperate, pitiful attempt at a sprint through the woods, he found it was as unremarkable as the rest of them, and that, while He was satisfied and the sound abated, Bilkin was completely lost. He decided the logical course of action was to move in a straight line for as long as possible. Miraculously this brought him to a trail, and, even more miraculously, just in time to see the group stumble out of the woods onto it as well. Disregarding that this made almost no sense geographically (though one can assume that in his pursuit of the tree, he crossed the trail and didn't notice), he jogged towards them, covered in branches and webs. Once he caught up to them, out of breath, he remarked "A peculiar... night, indeed... had urgent business... in the woods", and, satisfied with his explanation, began walking alongside them, battling a mild onset of asthma.
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Post by Adam on Oct 19, 2014 15:51:05 GMT -5
Bilken had rejoined the group. "Wonderful", thought Blank, "The mad sorcerer has returned." She didn't hate the mage personally, or because of the fact he was a mage, she disliked having such an unpredictable element traveling with her. True he may have helped in the past, but with a madness like his always present, the possibility for disaster was never far. But Blank couldn't focus on what the mage would or wouldn't do next. She was too preoccupied with what she had just done. Agonizing over torturing someone so brutally. That was something she never did unless left with no other option. In all of her years, she has only ever done something similar three times. After which she always vomited violently for the next hour. She never wanted to inflict the kind of pain she endured as a prisoner of her people upon another. Even to this day she is still plagued by brief visions of what she suffered. But she couldn't stop to vomit now, not with an unknown force tailing them, and not with a group she was far from comfortable with. It took all her will to suppress her gag reflex when she slid her blade into the thug's stomach and peeled off his nails. Slitting his throat came as relief to her, ending the suffering she had caused. Fortunately no one was watching her as the grouped prepared to leave the site, or they would have noticed her hands shaking as she wiped tears from her eyes.Even as the group is traveling, she keeps her hood up and her faced turned away from everyone to hide any lingering trepidation. She glanced around at the party. Elena the priestess, Blank had a soft spot for her. She was young and sweet and her childlike naivety often made Blank smile inwardly. She reminded her of a girl from her the village. Blank feared that Elena would be the most changed by the end of their journey, the kind girl replaced by a hardened woman. Valraukar the corsair. Blank had seen his type many times before. All guts and glory, raging and charging into battle blindly. She has knows that the life expectancy for his kind is rather short. Val, as the party began to call him, was a decent sort even if conversation wasn't his strong suit. Dralban the ranger, he was the last to join the company. An excellent archer and forager, he has proven his worth several times over. However he does seem to lack confidence in him self which Blank isn't certain if it is humility or an unease about everything that is going on. And finally that leaves Tecuani. Another berserking savage like Val, only Blank is unfortunate enough to share some ancestry with this one. A constantly inebriated half Drow, he has made several unsolicited and unwanted advances on her. She would have tried to kick him from the party if he wasn't so killed at killing, although how he manages to accomplish these feat is unknown. The combination of his poor personal hygiene, lack of social graces, general ineptitude at everything but swinging his swords, and constant attempts at groping her makes Blank very happy that he will die long before she does.
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