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Old 10-17-2005, 07:03 PM
Lacrosse_Freak Lacrosse_Freak is offline
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Join Date: Sep 2005
Posts: 33
Default Poison Swamp Inn

(Cross, is a teenage dark elf, standing about 6 feet tall with milk white hair, and very dark skin. He wears a large cloak which only at the right angle can one see the ghastly white eyes, and perhaps the outline of his facial features.)

Cross emerges from a fog covered trail, and crosses the small opening in the otherwise thickly wooded swamp. There is no sound as his boots swiftly and decisively cover the ground between the trail and the door of a small in named, The Poison Swamp Inn.

It is a still night, and within a few seconds Cross is within hearing distance of the Inn, the faint sounds of talk and occasional laughter filter out. As he approaches the door he takes one quick look over his shoulder and then carefully opens the door.

Immediately upon entering he finds the room starts to quiet from its already low noise level. In an instant all eyes in the establishment dart to the dark figure as he walks stealthily to the bar and takes a seat. With absolute undivided attention the patrons watch intently for the misty figures move. He reaches out to wave the bartender over.

Cross orders a tall cup of ale, and settles to it. He has traveled many nights to reach this place. Slowly the noise level begins to rise again as Cross carefully recollects the begining of his journey. The thought of his dying father fills his mind again, and his last words echo through Cross's head. "Take this box to the Poison Swamp Inn, you mustn't open it!", he said. Cross also recollected him saying that there would be people willing to help him with his journey, but he must choose them carefully, for some will only want to open the small red leather box.

Cross's mind comes back to the Inn and begins to evaluate the Patrons....he knows that he will not be able to escape the swamp with the box alive, and he will need the talents of any he can find. He settles to his drink, and waits to see what develops...
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Old 10-18-2005, 06:36 PM
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Default Re: Poison Swamp Inn

[Ryjara, a Human Barbarian, Blonde hair, tall- closer to 7 feet than to 6. carries both a Warhammer and double bladed Axe- Morkai's vengeance, an sentient axe with many enchantments, most of which arent known to Ryjara, including the ability to return to Ryjara's grasp if thrown. wears minimal leather clothing, and boots. Ryjara also wears ivory a pennant carved into the shape of a Eagle. This pennant contains no small magic, it grants Ryjara the ability to call dalninuk, a huge eagle, from the astral plane every other day.]
Ryjara stumbled towards the distant Building. His horse had died from exhaustion many miles back, and his supplies and fresh water had run out. Despite the fact that he was in a swamp, he didn't trust the water enough to drink it.
He had a nasty gash on his leg as well as many superficial scratches from his run in with trolls the previous night. His normally graceful and even steps were halting, with a slight limp. seeing as it was dusk he had to make it to shelter before the nocturnal creatures reemmerged from their caves.
Knocking upon the door of the "Poison Swamp In" (the name made Ryjara think twice about his surroundings) a hole opened up at (what for most would have been) eye-level. Ryjara, hunching over stated "I just escaped a group of trolls. My supplies are gone, I am in need of food and rest"
The man behind the door replied "where do you hail from?"
"Northern plains of Faerun"
The little door closed and the door itself opened. The man behind the door, who turned out to be a halfling who was standing on a small stepladder, said "The bartender will be able to sell you supplies and a room."
"Thanks"
Ryjara walked up to the bar, raising more than a fair amount of eyebrows due to his obviously northern heritage, and took the only open stool to a cloaked figure in the corner who was drinking ale. Ryjara started his night with a mead, relaxing for the first time in weeks. he started to bandage his wounds and apply salves from his pack. He still kept his guard up, knowing he could easily dispatch most of the tavern's patrons were a brawl to develop.

((((((((((((((((((((Freak, just to let you know the fantasyverse I pulled my char from considers Dark elves (or drow) pure Evil. Your char doesnt have to be evil, but I think it would be fun to have some sort of fight once I discover your heritage, until I beleive you when you tell me you aren't evil. P.S. Drow are exceptional fighters, both with blade, and (to those trained) magic. They actually live underground, and have the ability to switch their vision to the infrared spectrum, as well as visible. They are always slight of frame, cunning, and all have better senses than humans. (Hearing, etc.) All Drow posess the innate ability to summon globes of complete darkness, and outline creatures (enemies or friends) in faerie fire (colored flames that dont burn). They also possess miniature hand held crossbows that shoot either paralyzing darts or tranquilizer darts. If your story is that you abandoned the evil ways of your kin, you wouldnt have this.))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
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