The Mysteries of Rodania (Still looking for members)

[Steel]

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It was a cold day all around the land of Rodania. A chill breeze cooled the rugged landscape. And now, atop the temple of The Order, Thor'idal crouched. His fur rustled in the wind, as his bright eyes surveyed the land. Unlike the rest of his kind, Thor'idal held a sense of clarity and serenity over his being, granting him complete control over the powerful senses of a Lycan.


Today was to be the day that the group would meet to discuss the journey ahead. The Lycan prince had been against the whole ideal, but finally decided it would prove more helpful than not to have two others in his presence. However, a lycan, dwarf, and an orc would seem rather conspicuous.


The large frame of Thor'idal was silhouetted against the sun as he headed down the ivory temple steps. Cloaked "monks" of the order lurked about, of all different races. But, Thor'idal was the only Lycan in all of the temple. He entered the room of command, where a large round table of ebony wood sat. He lowered himself into one of the fine wooden seats, awaiting the others.

 

[Reifor]

Valten was sitting on top of a crumbled pillar, a faded book on one knee, his other hanging over the edge. He was just watching, looking out over the desert he now called home.


How is it that I came to be this far out? In a place so different from where I grew up? This is the only thought going through his mind today. A shipment of ore was supposed to be heading to the monastery today, maybe they would have something of interest in their cargo. Or maybe, he feared even to hope, another tablet left by the Aenguls.

 

[Craldus]

Kazdin walked briskly through the halls of the temple, his crossbow, slung upon his back, clanked as he walked, its carefully constructed mechanisms shaking inside their wood frame. Upon his belt was looped his axe, as well as packs of various sizes and a book, bound in tough, brown, hide. He walked with anticipation: today he was to begin his journey with the Lycan and the Orc.


I know not where this journey will take me; I am no stranger to travel, but I have always enjoyed a certain immunity, being a tradesman's son. Today I will travel with intent to strike against an oppressive Kingdom. I go now to end an era.


Kazdin stepped into the command room, walking to the table but not seating himself. He looked at Thor'idal, "Today we move to topple and empire. Where's the Orc? I'd like to get started soon," he glanced about the room, with its fine wooden furniture and ivory floor, it was quite the cut above of most places he had been in. A building from another time.

 

[DreamingDeity]

Velehk walked hurriedly through the corridors, rather indignantly. His armor, polished, oiled, and fitted for the journey, made a metallic ruckus, the robes and quilted padding underneath rustling against each other. His sword, sharpened and shined to a gleaming sheen, hung from a leather loop in his belt. His robes, dyed a dark gray, hung down past the bend of his knees. He took pride in his appearance.


He bulled his way unceremoniously into the command room, brushing a bit of dust from his hem. "I am here," he announced in an even tone, his head held high. He knew the task ahead of him was a labor of honor, and he was more than ready for it.

 

[Steel]

The Lycan prince rose. "Greetings, Kazdin of the dwarves." His yellow gaze passed over the dwarf, sizing him up. "The Mage has yet to show himself. Although I've received word from the high priest that we lack another companion. A man, to be specific." It wasn't often that the race of man was allowed near the temple. In fact, only four resided in the great ivory towers, and one of them was a prisoner.


"He's near where The shipments pass. According to our priest, he represents a missing piece of our fellowship." The beast shrugs. "But first, to the matter at hand." One of the lycan's claws pricks a map on the table. "The 'paladins' of Highstone have begun making their moves into orcish lands. The chieftain is calling for aid from the dwarves, but it seems they're preoccupied with a shade demon in their lands." He mumbles a low growl. "So it would seem the Holy One wishes the Order to intervene. And so we shall." 
The prince turns to the revered orc. "Ah, well-met. We were beginning our planning."

 

[Craldus]

Kazdin nods in Velehk's direction, "So we have to go and help the orcs because the dwarves have a demon problem? Alright, how long a trek is this?"

 

[DreamingDeity]

Velehk fingered the the hilt of his sword. "So we find out about this Daemon, slay him, and make sure the dwarves hold up to their promise of aid. Seems simple enough.


Velehk had an intimate knowledge of a variety of Daemons. His study of Kynmar had seen to that. There was probably no other manner of quest he was more suited towards. "I know of this manner of daemon. I think you'll find my knowledge valuable."

 

[Steel]

Thori'dal rose from his seat. "That's the plan. We move at sunrise, prepare your gear, and get a full night's rest. There is a long journey ahead."


The price left the room, his dark cloak billowing behind him. The sound of his ebony armor clanked as he walked off.

 

[Reifor]

Valten saw dust rising in the distance, signaling the arrival of the merchant caravan. He jumped off the almost ten foot pillar, landing easily on one knee, Who said magic-users had to frail and fragile? Valten thought to himself.


Valten turned and ran back toward the monastery, reaching the large sandstone walls well before the caravan had even caught the attention of the lazy watchman on top of the gatehouse. Valten ran through the main foyer of the large temple building and up the stairs into his room to find the small coin-purse with it's merger collection of gold coins within. It wasn't until the monastery bell started ringing, and Valten turned to his chamber's only window that he noticed something was wrong.


Valten looked closely at the large dust cloud that was now almost to the monastery gates, and he realized that if it was the caravan, the dust cloud was obscuring everyone within, and no caravan could kick up that much dust. Not a caravan, then. If not a caravan, though, what is it?

 

[Steel]

The massive charger Thori'dal rode upon seemed to make others look like ponies. Dark armor protected the ebony steed. It's sinewy muscles pumped beneath the gear. This, and his companions' horses stirred up the dust.


--Earlier--


The other two companions would find the stables, where horses, rams, and scorgil-the giant scorpions often ridden by orcs- were penned. They would choose their mounts, and join the Lycan and his charger.