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Screensize: 640 x 480 800 x 600 1024 x 768 1280 x 1024 UserName: Password: Format Mode: Basic  Help  Prompt  Format: Font Andale Mono Arial Arial Black Book Antiqua Century Gothic Comic Sans MS Courier New Georgia Impact Lucida Console Script MT Bold Stencil Tahoma Times New Roman Trebuchet MS Verdana   Size 1 2 3 4 5 6   Color Black Red Yellow Pink Green Orange Purple Blue Beige Brown Teal Navy Maroon LimeGreen Message: * HTML is OFF * Forum Code is ON Smilies [quote][i]Originally posted by Mumadar Ibn Huzal[/i] [br][red]Near the Evermoors, 13th Tarsakh 1372 DR, late afternoon[/red] [hr]Shaking his head at the chaotic gnome, Svent takes off at an easy pace for about thirty passes looking for a sheltered cove or at least a dry spot to set camp in, relying on his ‘adventurer’s sense’ he has gained in his travels. ‘I hope I don’t embarrass myself…’ He mutters softly. As he rounds a tree growing against a large boulder which could provide a good shelter, the young Waterdhavian is suddenly stopped in his tracks as the cold steel of a naked blade is suddenly pressed against his throat. Glancing from the corner of his eye, he looks along the length of the blade into the shaded features of a humanoid figure. The wan light which filters through the trees fails to penetrate the hood of the stranger, only highlighting a dangerous glint in a pair of almond shaped eyes. “Ware stranger! Keep quiet or stay quiet for ever!” The threat is voiced in a soft feminine voice with a slight accent. Almost not daring to swallow, Svent’s eyes register more movement, as his eyes quickly dart that way he sees a pair of yellow eyes staring at him from a dark shape. The soft growl that accompanies the yellow gaze clearly belongs to something canine. Svent very slowly raises his arms, palms forward and hands empty, hoping to show the stranger he has no ill intent, and maybe alert his friends at the cart. He may be holding his breath, but can’t tell. He definitely looks scared while a small part of his mind is thinking, ‘I’m going to have to learn how to do that…’ Luna’s steady hand on the blade that she’s holding at this trespasser’s neck is held true and steady. She seems to know the blade well and was a master at it as threw down the threat. Her green eyes are on fire with the knowledge of the one who stands in front of her and the ones who are not too far away. Areo has stepped forward to her side and the yellow tinted eyes now gleam back to their emerald green. Knowing that any warning by the one who now hangs on her blade could be her possible death, the wandering ranger decides to soften the threat a bit by allowing the man to explain himself, but does not ease up on the newcomer’s neck. “Tell me and quickly as well as softly, Seeker of Trouble, why have you come so close to my campfire,” she whispers with some authority, “Also, beware that I know of your friends and unless you want to see your blood decorate the stones below you, I would answer in a whisper and give no warning and you might return to them if your answer pleases me.” She motions to Areo to back off and to bring Darkon in case an escape is needed. Luna while waiting for an answer from the man, silently reaches for the dagger that is held secretly in her bodice of her chainmail in anticipation of what might come. The young man, looks to be an average soft city dweller of about five feet eight, slowly lowers his arms, keeping them far from his swords, knowing that the woman would kill him if she guessed he was trying to signal his friends. We whispers in Waterdhavian accented Elven through a dry throat: <In truth, I knew not that you were here. I mean no harm. We only seek a camp for the night. Please release me, I will tell my friends to go another mile further up the road and camp there. I will tell them naught of your presence. You have my word.> The man keeps his black hair very short over his sharply featured face. His hazel eyes dart around from the woman to the place he left the road. He wears two swords, but a total lack of woodcraft makes it obvious he is not a Ranger. Seeing that the young man did what was asked, Luna allows the dark haired man some breathing room as she lessens the tightness of the blade on his neck. She is not that type of person to kill just to kill nor to harm anything out of spite, but this type of aggression is necessary for the evils that haunt the area she is in. Still not fully trusting the stranger, she keeps the blade visible with his sight and easily used once again on his neck. <I am in no need of your blood upon those rocks and I do not intend you or your friends any harm, but I also do not trust you at this point to allow you to return to them just yet> The soft voice without the threatening undertone continues to fill the ears of the one still in the crouched position. She moves to the line of sight of him, but still keeping the blade between them and reveals the person whom questions him. The hood falls revealing a dark haired wood elf with piercing green eyes. She is enveloped with chain mail which gives her some bulk to her small, but strong short frame. With some hint of warmth, but still eager to strike if need be, she continues to question him, <Again, with the same softness and the same quickness, please give me your name and the place in which your group is headed.> With the demand in place, the dark void behind her is broken with the figures of a dark warhorse appears with a the glowing eyes of the wolf partner returning to her side. “My name, lady of the wood, is William Burrstar, known to some as ‘Svent Darastrix.’ We hunt Trolls by Lawful Charter out of Olostin’s hold.” The young man replies, “We are to go out into the Moors in the morning and begin our search. Trolls were to be our only prey, unless we found some other evil beasts roaming about and being a nuisance.” The green eyes begin to gleam with less fire of suspicion and more with intrigue about what the newly named man had spoken. With some easement, Luna allows her blade to fall away from his neck and to the rocks in front of him, but the point is still angled towards him. “Stand, Sir Svent, seeker of trouble, and answer me a few more questions.” Switching over to common, she does not quite command, but she does not ask either. Luna looks over the being in front of her and sizes him up – Areo begins to growl his low pitch warning to make the man aware of his presence still. Half a smirk now begins to cross the wood elf beauty as she watches the man in front of her, as he does not know the dagger she now palms within the other hand in case he decides to rush her. “Please be aware, sire, that the wolf and the weapons that lie hidden on me are watching you closely so continue to be on your best behavior.” She warns him with a slight nod her head. “I know of the place you speak of and I know of the troops they do send out from time to time to do such things you have described. Can you produce evidence that your party is what you spoke them to be? If ye can produce such documents or evidence then things might change for you and your party for the better, but if you can’t…then…” She pauses slightly as she allows the gleam of her rose gold hilted blade speak the rest. Svent sighs deeply as the sword is lowered. “I have not the charter, Lady of the Wood. Aunnabroke, our Ranger and leader has that. If you allow me to call him, and only him, He can show you the documents you wish to see. All I can give you is my word and promise of good conduct.” The warrior sits on a rock, moving slowly lest the woman objects. “To prove my intentions to you, Lady, I offer my swords to you to hold in safe keeping. I will give my weapons belt to you so I will not have to bare the steel.” The young Waterdhavian watches the Elf closely to try and read her reactions to his suggestions. Luna takes the time to study the Waterdhavian and judges his words and suggestion carefully. With a slight nod giving her judgments merit, she replies back “Very well, Sire Svent, I will allow you to call your leader and ranger over, but only him. I will also allow you to keep your blades, for now. However, if you attempt to give a warning in anyway to the others or even to him, my blade will not thirst any longer and my dagger might find the one you had warned. Do you understand my terms, Sir?” Her blade stays to the ground and her other hand stays cupped, but her stance is eased slightly. She looks towards Areo and whispers something inaudible, briefly flicking his ears, Areo backs away in the shadows, but the black warhorse remains in the reach of the ranger. “No need to call me ‘Sire’, lady. I understand your demands.” Svent whispers, calming now. “I will call to our leader now.” He turns towards the road and cups a hand next to his mouth to amplify the call. “Aunnabroke!” He calls loudly trying to keep calm in his voice. “Come to me, I need your expert eyes!” He grimaces, hating to lie yet realizing it may be the only thing saving his friends. He turns back to Luna and whispers: “I hope I have not led him into a trap with my lie, Lady of the Wood, I had his trust up until now… Even if all is well, it will be some time before my friends trust my word again after what I have said now.” He scowls at the Elf, but makes no move towards his weapon. Her eyes grow sympathetic for the young warrior in front of her for if he tells the truth; it was only perchance that he had happened upon her camp. She is just protecting herself and that in her party in a land full of possible enemies. She had learned quickly not to trust anyone that she stumbled upon in her 28 years of life. Luna not thinking began to rub the area on her arm softly with her hand with the thought of that lesson. However, so far this chiseled featured man has been honorable and she feels soft words of encouragement might be needed. Gathering words and placing them carefully, she speaks for the first time to Svent softly and gently which really reflect the true nature of this wood elf ranger. “Dear Svent, if your words are honorable and true, which will be proven shortly then I shall take the blame and excuse you from all accusations that might place you look in a unfavorable light with your party.” She knows not if the change in words and tone might soothe her captive. She hopes understanding might be reached if the evidence rings true, but her guard can not be let down until then. Svent studies the changes in the Elf maid carefully. “There is no need, Lady, to take this blame from me.” He whispers. “It is my fault I was taken off guard and put at your mercy. I do thank you, however, for allowing me to live to learn from this mistake.” Svent looks to the ground, holding his head in his hands, as if accepting that a loss of face with the Hold Wardens was assured. He whispers very quietly, thinking aloud and not realizing what he says: “How will I conquer the Dragon… if I can be captured so easily by a lone Elf? James, Ellen, I have failed you.” Upon hearing the mention of the elf under the young man’s breath, Luna’s brow caved in taking what he spoke as an insult. Her green eyes lit on fire and her voice became once more threatening toward the self pitying fool. “Sir!” she exclaimed in her voice, “It might have been a LONE elf that has captured you, but do not underestimate the RACE nor the PERSON who holds you now within the blade.” Quite put out by the comment so blatantly placed out for her to hear, the ranger tries to contain her emotion and reaction to teach the man a lesson of his own, but refrains from doing so. Her grip however tightens on the hilt of the blade in anger. For most of her life, she has trained and studied the skills of a ranger under her demanding Master, her own “father.” She has also battled the stereotypes of both her own race and gender both in life and battle. Svent looks up at the elf, his eyes red and puffy, but burning with defiance. He speaks to the woman, no longer whispering, but not raising his voice. “Are you the equal of a Green Dragon, Lady of the Wood? That is what I hunt. I have sworn an oath that it seems now I can not fulfill, if a lone person of ANY race can capture me so easily. Slay me if you will for my wayward tongue. I have not the heart to offer any resistance.” Contrary to his words, he stands. “Slay me or leave me to my business. I have no more patience for your threats and posturing.” Upon hearing the man chide, she can not help but roll her eyes and giggle softly to herself. “Please!” Luna waves off the death call and the threat posed to her, “Sit down before you fall down. Your words are rash and ride upon emotion.” Luna sees instantly what kind of man this is and he is riding himself too hard for such a small fault. However, Areo once again comes from the shadows behind the man to connect with Luna to get reassurance that all is well before he will disappear again. Svent sits again, kicking at small stones in frustration. He has let his emotions rule him again. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before continuing. “I apologize for the outburst, as well as for any slight upon you, Lady of the Wood. I must seem like a child to you. I shall keep my silence lest I make myself more the fool.” Svent tries to stay at ease, waiting for Aunnabroke to come and deal with this elf maid so he could go. 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