Dust And Bones

Southbight 


 * Like the grasslands to the south, the Southbight exists as a large region of rolling terrain of short and dry grasses, composed of a rich mix of flowers and herbs, underlain with some of the most fertile soils in the area. Perennial grasses and perennial forbs are dominant growth forms in the region, while two or more strata of grasses are recognized in the more humid expressions of the greater biome.


 * However, what distinguishes this area from normal grassland is the gradual change that occurs within the northern reaches of this region where the grasses and flowers of the grasslands are promptly smothered by an ocean of cinder and ash.


 * Indeed, the Southbight forms the barrier between the hellish Ashlands to the north, and the serenity of the plains and grasslands to the south. For many it marks the end of a terrible journey from the north. To others, it offers a suggestion of the trial yet to come.


 * The vast stretch of the indomitable wall known as the Aegis dominates the horizon to the south between the Southbight and the grasslands. To the north, the harsh dunes of the Ashlands smother the landscape.


 * It is a cold evening as the sun sets beyond the horizon to the west. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. A light rain pours from the heavens. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Serpent's Eye (violet/waxing), Torch I (gray/waxing).


 * Vhramis Wolfsbane, Lucius Nepos and Norran Lomasa are here.

Vhramis still sits under the tarp, which managed to do a heroic job of keeping the rain from soaking the three men. "It's lessening, at least," he states, gesturing to the rain, before sighing and inching out from under it, standing. "We should move now. I don't want to sit here for another day or two."

Lucius Nepos shakes his head as the rain thins out, and within the next few minutes stops. He draws his wolfskin cloak over his body. "Let's roll up the tarp. I packed the tent before hand."

Norran does three things when he's sitting around: Eating, sleeping, and polishing his claymore and rapier. Retribution and Fortitude, that is. He's currently finishing off Fortitude with a rag off to the side when Vhramis speaks, the young Blade grinning in return. The brilliant rapier is sheathed, and he gathers his things and straightens his cloak before standing up. "About time we started moving."

Vhramis turns about to wait for the pair to move out from under the tarp, before stepping to a pole and unhooking it. Soon enough, he's engaged in rolling it up. "If there's one good thing about the rains..the air won't be so choked with dust. So we won't need to cover our mouths."

Lucius Nepos deadpans, "I'm absolutely ecstatic." His hands knead and release over and over as he folds and then helps Vhramis roll it up. "Carry it in your pack if you would, mine's bulging." A bit of a wry smirk appears on his lips. "Then we'll get moving."

"The sooner we go in, the sooner we leave," regards Norran to Lucius with his usual faint grin, content to stand there with two men on the job. He does take extra time ensuring everything's properly placed, however, as we waits for the others.

Vhramis mutters something and packs away the tarp. That done, he gives a stretch to his legs, working out some kinks, as he looks over the other two. "Alright. Off we go," he nods his head, seeing that they at least appear ready. He gestures off and begins moving along.

Lucius Nepos begins to move without much of a comment on that, bag lifted to his back and shield slung over his left arm. The boots begin to crunch on the ground in quick succession.

"Exceptional!" agrees Norran as the trio begins their walk through the grasslands to the Ashlands, chainmail jingling with his steps. "Atleast the fog has lifted," optimistically observes the Lomasa.

"You're far too cheerful," Vhramis mutters, looking fairly glum as they march towards the blasted landscape.

Lucius Nepos pops a piece of chopped up mushroom into his mouth, more to suck on that to eat it. At the same time, though, he does begin to chew the fungus a little bit, smiling as he savours the taste. "Some people like desolation..." He comments.

"Some people are eager to explore new lands, venture in to the unknown!" proclaims Norran with a wide smile, nodding toward the Ashlands. "Little enough of that in Fastheld. Every minute spent here is a profound experience. I'd write a book about it were I the sort to research, but my journal will have to suffice."

"Then you'd likely be taken in by the Church," Vhramis shrugs at that, shaking his head. "This isn't the type of trip we should be talking about much when we get back home."

Lucius Nepos nods at Vhramis's assertation. "He's right. As much as you might want to talk about it, and believe me, I understand, it's better that you not. Unless you're talking to someone in a very private environment and you are absolutely sure they can be trusted. Even then I'd be wary."

"You know what I meant, I'm plenty aware of the secrecy needing to be undertaken," immediately returns Norran with a quick dimissive wave of his shield. "I may seem enthusiastic, fellows, but I'm certainly no fool."

Sea of Cinders 


 * A vast unyielding landscape of cinder, ash, and ruin, the Ashlands are a bleak and desolate place deafening quiet and despondency that has little equal within the greater world around it. The voluminous range of the Ashlands is one cast from the remains of a dark and brooding sanguine forest; an evil forest that was torched to the ground in its entirity, forging the apocryphal terrain that now stands in its place.


 * Even the sky seems perpetually beset with cinder, for while the ash is settled and heavy upon the ground, the sky above fails to hold the same elegance that it should, as even that canvas had been marred by the events of what unfolded across this place, and within the dark and evil forest that once held dominion.


 * The skeleton of a very large creature unfolds across the landscape here; the bones bleached an tainted shade of white, the ribs forming arches in the cinders in which they remain half buried within. Whatever the creature once was, it seems to have died long before the forest that it once lived in did. Dunes and flat wastes of cinder surround it on all sides.


 * It is a cold evening as the sun sets beyond the horizon to the west. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Dark puffy clouds hang low in the sky. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Serpent's Eye (violet/waxing), Torch I (gray/waxing).


 * Vhramis, Lucius Nepos and Norran Lomasa are here.

Lucius Nepos's eyebrows raise up at the sight of the massive beast. "So you think that's what Kalath'aria destroyed when she levelled the forest? Or is this something else?"

"Maybe that's one of the 'horrible creatures' that inhabited the forest," idly suggests Norran, tilting his head toward the very large set of bleached bones. "I'd never seen the thing close up, thankfully, so I wouldn't know.

"It's the only one I've seen, so I just assumed it was it," Vhramis shrugs at that, focusing ahead. Though there's not much to look at. "Still..it's hard to imagine what that looked like alive."

Lucius Nepos shakes his head. "That's not something I really want to imagine, Vhramis, to be honest with you. Let's get out of here." He finally swallows his yummy mushrooms.

Sea of Cinders 


 * The Sea of Cinders stretches endlessly before you; the rolling dunes of ash offering nothing in the way of directional marker or landmark by which to navigate with. As one storm of ash and ruin follows another it isn't long before navigation becomes nothing more than an illusion and every turn, every step, and every horizon looks just like the other.


 * It is a cold night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Puffy white clouds fill most of the sky. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Serpent's Eye (violet/waxing), Torch I (gray/waxing).


 * Vhramis, Lucius Nepos and Norran Lomasa are here.

"Really think we should be heading west?" Norran suddenly ponders aloud, although he does not stop his walk through the ash towards the west, doing his best to keep along with the others.

Skull of the Defiler 
 * A vast unyielding landscape of cinder, ash, and ruin, the Ashlands are ableak and desolate place deafening quiet and despondency that has little equal within the greater world around it. The voluminous range of the Ashlands is one cast from the remains of a dark and brooding sanguine forest; an evil forest that was torched to the ground in its entirity, forging the apocryphal terrain that now stands in its place.


 * Even the sky seems perpetually beset with cinder, for while the ash is settled and heavy upon the ground, the sky above fails to hold the same elegance that it should, as even that canvas had been marred by the events of what unfolded across this place, and within the dark and evil forest that once held dominion.


 * The ceaseless dunes of black give way to an unusual landmark at this point, for rising out of the eternally blighted desert of ash can a bone white monolith be found. An ominous monument indeed, upon closer one might note it to be the remains of a giant skull of a creature unique in its monstrosity, shaped somewhat like the head of a canine, yet featuring massive curved tusks and vast pointed horns upon the dome of that charred and burned skull.


 * It was, without a doubt, an evil creature indeed - although what that creature was, and what fate it would have held for Fastheld, will remain forever unknown. Although hideous, and though clearly twisted by powers darker than night, the lifeless skull remains a source of shelter for those seeking refuge from the endless wastes around them.


 * It is a cold night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Puffy white clouds fill most of the sky. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Serpent's Eye (violet/waxing), Torch I (gray/waxing).


 * Lucius Nepos and Norran Lomasa are here.

Despite the fact that it had rained previously and the ashes were settled for a little while, soon they have begun to rage again. Now, as Lucius and Norran gaze on the Skull, Lucius notices that their guide is no longer present. "Lovely. Vhramis appears to have dissapeared."

"Our guide is lost, but we remain? Is that ironic, or merely an unfortunate string of circumstances?" questions Norran, idly stroking his chin at the literary mystery. "Maybe he just got turned around, we should wait here for awhile to see if he makes his way. If it takes too long, we'll venture back from where we came..." Norran decides with a slow nod, frowning as he looks all around the Ashlands. "...wherever that was."

Considering the skull, he walks to approach, looking over the whole of it. "I presume this is the head of the beast. Better than a tent, at points."

Lucius Nepos smirks. "Yeah. And maybe last week's lunch is still stuck in there so we can have a little snack." Observeres Lucius sardonically, approaching the skull without any reservation.

"I didn't think it ate anything, mostly just breathed destruction or somesuch. It's been dead for longer than a week, that much is certain," answers Norran with a faint chuckle, further investigating the skull.

Lucius Nepos shrugs. "I have no idea. Who knows what it did? I certainly don't. I never even saw this beast, I just flew over it when Kalath'aria decided to give us a ride.. and then lay waste to the forest that used to stand here. I say good riddance."

Well, he looks even more glum now. Stepping over a dune, Vhramis spots the two soldiers, and can't help but sigh a bit of relief, quickening his step to approach. Though his attention turns to the massive remains, and he frowns a bit deeper.

Norran shrugs his shoulders as well. "All I know is what I've heard. I've seen gargoyles, but not this thing." As he catches Vhramis out of the corner of his eye, he grins widely. "Well, look who decided to join us! Turned around were you, Pathfinder?"

"And what a bloody great pathfinder he is!" Lucius exclaims, more than a little mirth in his voice and a grin having planted itself on his face and flowered into something amused. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here."

Vhramis begins to respond to Norran, before his face darkens a bit, and he all but glares at the pair. With a grunt, he gruffly waves at them to come along, storming past them and beginning to continue along. It's then that a rather ominous peal of thunder splits the otherwise silent Ashlands, causing the pathfinder to hesitate.

"Shades! Not again!" cries Norran, shaking a chainmailed fist at the sound of thunder in the sky. "Looks like we'll be getting to know this skull better than we anticipated."

"I wish there was a woman here." Laments Lucius, re-entering the skull and plopping his stuff down. "Then I could say I was the only man in Fastheld to have shagged inside a giant skull. Ah, the possibilities."

"It hasn't rained this much since.." Vhramis mutters, turning about and returning to the skull, barely giving it a look before moving inside, not wanting to get wet. He eyes Lucius at his comment, and lowers himself to take a seat.

"You can never be sure of that. I'm sure the Shadow Mages have passed though here plenty enough, and as unbelievable as it may be, some might be even more deviant than you, Lucius," jests Norran with a laugh, taking his corner of the skull with a decent cover overhead and setting down his haversack and shield into the ash.

Lucius Nepos snickers, simply rubbing at his head once his helmet has been hefted off of it. "Naw. I don't think that there's anyone with that qualification, Norran." A chuckle.

Vhramis shakes his head slightly, glancing to the two. "You both seem obsessed with.." A punctuating gesture with his hand through the air. "../that/," he observes with a small frown.

"Oh, Lucius is the obsessed one. I'm just little entertained enough to conversate with him on the matter," chuckles the Lomasa, shaking his head slowly as he sits down into the ash, back against the skull's side. "I've been with a single woman, he's the one that goes off about his escapades and whatnot," explains Norran, gesturing toward Lucius.

"No, Norran isn't really. I am though. It's a lot of fun, what can I say? I've soldiered for a good many years, but while soldiering is a lifestyle, /that/ is something that I'll always enjoy and use as a mode of escape from my stresses. Intriguing, I bet. Why do you seem so repulsed?" Asks Lucius, a genuine curiosity on his face.

Wolfsbane shakes his head and draws his cloak about him a bit tighter, turning his attention to the rain outside, which is not coming down in rather strong torrents again. As it has been for the past few days.

"I prefer to judge a man based on his merit, his virtue and his deeds...not how many women he's managed to persuade to bed him," Norran answers with a small grin, resting an arm across his knee as he looks upward. "A notoriously difficult task for some, but not for all. What other point is there for bragging about it? Is it purposeless hedonism you seek, or validation? For that much, I heed little of men who spend their lives desperate to get under a woman's skirts."

Lucius Nepos stares at Vhramis rather incredulously. "Answer the question. Please?" A nod to Norran. "Oh, well if you think that I rate people based on how many shaggings they've done, then you're a mighty big paradox, I'd say, Norran, considering that you're easily my best soldier."

"How many children do you have?" asks Vhramis quietly, still staring out to the dismal landscape, his eyebrows lowering a bit in thought. A question with another question, apparently.

"None yet, that I know of. I suppose that's where you're leading - that I'm irresponsible for enjoying sex. Although I do plan to have children with my fiancee... I say every woman that I've been with knew what she was getting into. And so did I, so it's a mutual agreement." Lucius smiles. "But that's a very good reason not to like talking about it so much. Understandable."

"As far as I know of Lucius, none that he's immediately aware of. I myself have a daughter, perhaps a year old soon or before," interjects Norran at Vhramis' question, before grinning further to Lucius. "Oh, I was not speaking of you, Lucius. There are /many/ men who think different, far more focused on the task than you. A sad existance, in my eyes. Living for personal gratification. But let them sink in their pit." He pauses, before chuckling lightly, "Your opinions honor me, as usual. Thus you should know my respect is about as strong for you, as despite your occasional occurance, you're more than the women you've slept with."

Vhramis glances over to Lucius, smiling slightly to show he doesn't hold any ill will towards him. "I never knew my father. My real father. Just of him." He shrugs and turns his attention back outside the skull, working a finger over the black mail mesh on his torso.

Lucius Nepos nods. "I suppose I was the lucky kind of person who grew up with a father. Though throughout a good portion of my childhood he was only there rarely.. a soldier, afterall, doesn't get much time to spend with his family. That's why I haven't considered marriage until now." A pause. "Did you find out who it was, Vhramis?" And to Norran, "Well thank you! That's a relief."

Norran's answer to Vhramis is a slight smile, nodding slowly. "I'd only known my father for seven years, before he fell in the War. But, I atleast had my Uncle," he answers conversationally, idly looking over to study his shield.

Wolfsbane makes a soft noise at that, sounding a bit like a dry laugh, and he shakes his head again. "Yes. Though not because my mother or surrogate father told me. You wouldn't believe me, anyway. Plus..it's meaningless, anyhow. He's long dead." He makes a small dismissive wave with his hand.

Lucius Nepos arches an eyebrow. "Always a mystery with you, Wolfsbane. If we wouldn't believe you that means we know of the man. Who was he?" He tilts his head to the side, very very curious.

"Wouldn't believe you?" scoffs Norran with a final, boisterous laugh that echoes throughout the skull. "With the amount of things I've been told since I came out of that mine, I'd believe you if you told me your father was Talus Kahar himself! Or a shriekweasel. Either one, I'd believe."

Vhramis quietly laughs again at the Lomasa's comment, gesturing towards Norran, not looking over.

Lucius Nepos's jaw drops a little, eyes growing wide. He looks to Norran. Then he looks back. Then he looks to Norran again. And finally to Vhramis. "You mean you're.. his flesh and blood? A Kahar?"

"What? I'm not a Kahar! And I've never laid a hand or anything else on your mother!" bellows Norran in disbelief, glaring in response to Vhramis.

"The Thirteenth," clarifies Vhramis with a small shrug, before he blinks, slowly turning to regard Norran. One eyebrow arches slowly. "..what? No!"

Lucius Nepos makes the mock noises of trumpets blowing; this noise is magnified by the fact that they're all inside a big, hollow skull. "Should I crown you, your Highness?"

"Thirteen? I'd remember having thirteen children with someone! Especially if it was your mother! And you're older than I am, how is that even /possible/?!" challenges Norran with several intricate gestures, before blinking as Lucius speaks. "Oh," he starts, scratching at his temple. "Ohhhhh," he breathes in realization, quickly grinning as the truth dawns on him. Then, he frowns at Vhramis. "Did you hit your head on a femur or somesuch while you were wandering around out there?"

Vhramis turns his attention back to Lucius, glaring again, though there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "You can crown my ass, if you'd like. Or just kiss it." He shakes his head back to Norran. "Talus the Thirteenth. The..nevermind." He makes a faintly frustrated noise and focuses back on the weather. "Will this rain never stop?"

"Norran, while I think you're a wonderful gentleman.. shut up." Lucius says this with all the good nature possible, shaking his head and laughing. "Thanks, but no thanks Vhramis. I'd rather not have anything to do with your ass."

"You two are poor at communication, you know. Being born under a rock will do that, I suppose. Well, except for the Prince here," answers Norran with an indignant huff, looking back toward the top of the skull. "Besides, you still have all your limbs. Not a Kahar."

"His mother wasn't a noble and.. well.. I've no idea if the curse is only applicable to people who have the Kahar name. Who knows, right?" Lucius wonders.

"It's not a curse, that I know of. Kahar the First was clawed by that wildling, that's what they say. All the males. Wouldn't matter if he was born to an Empress or a barmaid, I'd guess," concludes Norran with a slow nod, although he keeps his eyes upward.

"Again, that you know. The Emperor's disability dissapeared when he was outside of the Aegis. Besides, do you /really/ think that a claw from a Wildling lasts generations? And affects even those Kahar not in direct line with Talus? Doubtful. It was a curse, and it seems to have something to do with the Aegis." Explains Lucius.

"Disappeared, eh? Never heard of that, but then again I suppose I wouldn't. Vengeance from the Mages who built the wall? Perhaps," admits Norran with a shrug of his shoulders. "Even still, what would being born to a noble woman have to do with anything? Nobility is a thing of circumstance, in the end.

Lucius Nepos chuckles. "Like many things, this remains a mystery. It's very possible that the mages are able to control who gets their curse by status.. like I said, I don't know. All I know is that the curse has something to do with the Aegis. I'm no mage, else I could tell you more about it."

"Maybe he's got something we can't immediately notice. I'd rather not think deeper," adds Norran, sighing faintly as he just sets his eyes skyward.

''Return to Season 4 (2006)