Hibernians were raiding Midgard constantly for well over 100 years when we went out that day. Nobody knew this time would be different. Some of the stronger folks who were with us were carrying large wooden pieced on their backs. Parts of rams. We were jogging towards Nottmoore, a central keep, one that we knew Midgard constantly used as a rallying point. The idea was to harass the trolls. We never for one second guessed what the months to come held in store for us.


We met no enemies on the run through Odin's gate. As we were nearing Jamtland, we passed the Glacier Giant. Taking a wide breath around him, we aimed towards our target – Nottmoore. Sending the shades who accompanied us, we hid behind the trees, not uttering a word, waiting for a report. As we were standing there, tense, we heard a rustle through the bushes, we all took positions behind trees and boulders, holding our breath. Into our line of sight three unlucky guards enter, joking, talking in their broken language, most probably, about some foul deed they did . As they approached the area where we were hiding, they suddenly froze, looking left and right. One of them caught a glint of metal and was about to shout. Just then the bard Doulor waved his hands and with his tantalizing voice usually saved for the wenches he so liked, entranced the guards. Now three guards were standing there, with stupid smiles on their faces, rocking back and fro, seeing what the bard did want them to.


As we were looking at them, deciding about a course of action, the Master Shade Jander appeared near us and motioned us to the keep, only to disappear again into the shadows from which he came. Those of us with spells and chants spoke last words of warding and to the hill on which Nottmoore rested we ran.

<blows a kiss to the Kitty>

/claps for Masnark.


Excellent as always, old friend.

 

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<sits quietly and listens>

Rohen entered the town of Ardee and went straight into the pub to get his ale. He had just come out of Darkness Falls where he had gone to bring back a guild mate and friend from the demons' clutches and was in need of much rest and good drink. He noticed the small children sitting at one of the tables with a grown Elf that looked very familiar. Rohen idly fondled his cloak, feeling the smooth fabric of Atlantis and the power from the Healer's Embrace artifact through his fingers as he watched through the corner of his eye. He saw the children gasp and interupt the Elf as a small Lurikeen girl with a lisp asked asked loudly about Zlara and Saorise. Grinning at the mention of his good friend and mentor, Zlara, Rohen picked up his ale and moved to a table right next to theirs. He now knew the Elf to be Masnark. He pulled up the hood to his cloak to remain unnoticed and listened intently to the story as it unfolded, glad he had made it in time to hear the whole thing.

more now please

 

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Wonderful so far Masnark <grabs a mead and sits quietly>

/bump because people complain about no "quality threads" - and here's one!!

I'm feeling the love. More, please.

Zlara I had a cool story for you about how uber I am, but now it's been forever and I can hardly remember. I'll try to make some stuff up if I see you though.


/bump