The Shadowed Legacy

[Craig]

Wirth the noise coming from the tavern and the images through the window, Rojin broke into a run.

Rojin came crashing through the door, and almost stumbled over one half of the rogue and grimaced. He strode over to one of the patrons, unsure who's party to side with, he suddenly realized the religious signs of Mask on one of the cloaked figures as he passed by. He struck him on the head, unbalancing the cloaked figure and clearly disrupting the spell, then he knocked him over forcefully, the body thudding to the floor. He was about to subdue him with a sound blow to the head, but the man chanted a few words and disappeared, and his blow hit empty air. A floor board creaked beside him and he lashed out, again with no result. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and before he could even react a terrible pain shot into him, making the arm go limp. He whirled around and smashed the now visible cleric in the face with his elbow. The dark figure fell in a heap to the floor, his face noticeably rearranged.

[Arcane]

ooc: how do i delete this post?

[Magus]

“That does it god damnit!”

The archer, who was lining up his next shot, was hurled against the wall by a couple of Magic Missles, causing several deep cracks in the oak.

The archer grabbed his side and dropped his bow. Then, glaring at the little halfling, he drew a longsword. “You should have stayed out of this, runt.” He charged forward, as flames shot forth from the halfling’s fingers. He pressed onward, screaming as the flames engulfed him, and slashed for the meddler’s pudgy head. Yllidan threw himself to the ground, feeling the blade graze his shoulder as he dived. As he struggled to his feet he heard a thud, and he looked down to see the archer had fallen, his body charred and smoldering. He glanced at his shoulder. It was bleeding.
* * * * *

Rojin came crashing through the door, and almost stumbled over one half of the rogue and grimaced. He strode over to one of the patrons, unsure who's party to side with, he suddenly realized the religious signs of Mask on one of the cloaked figures as he passed by. He struck him on the head, unbalancing the cloaked figure and clearly disrupting the spell, then he knocked him over forcefully, the body thudding to the floor. He was about to subdue him with a sound blow to the head, but the man chanted a few words and disappeared, and his blow hit empty air. A floor board creaked beside him and he lashed out, again with no result. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and before he could even react a terrible pain shot into him, making the arm go limp. He whirled around and smashed the now visible cleric in the face with his elbow. The dark figure fell in a heap to the floor, his face noticeably rearranged.

* * * * *

The half-elf stepped back as the great sword came sweeping across. Then he slipped behind the blade and sliced out, drawing blood. The burly man stumbled back, as if taken by surprise. For an instant, the half-elf stood there, wondering why this was happening. He just wanted to be left alone. What he was doing fighting this pointless battle? Then suddenly the muscled fighter charged forward with a roar of rage. The half-elf’s blade shot out reflexively to deflect the blow, but the massive sword batted it away like a toy, descending to part the half-elf’s head from his shoulders.

As the sword cut towards him, the flash of incoming magic missiles caught his eye from the side. With inhuman agility he tucked his head down and threw himself forward and to the other side, the great sword slicing stray hairs from his head as it passed. He heard the thud of magic missiles striking flesh, and he leapt to his feet to meet the fighter’s next blow, two round concussion marks blasted into the man’s back.

* * * * *

Farul had seen enough. That half-elf had cut down Erik before the poor bastard knew what hit him, and it looked like that fool Garth was soon to follow. Hells, the freak had managed to evade magic missiles! And now two random strangers were waylaying Jerard and Ramon. Screw it...no amount of money was worth losing your life.

He chanted a spell and abruptly disappeared.

[Arcane]

Yllidan lay upon the floor, his shoulder burned like nothing he had encountered.

"Damn, I should've followed what my mammy said and became a priest..."

He passed out upon the floor.

[Rob-hin]

As Ambron and Rojin found their way to the Green Griffon, loud noises came from inside. Before Ambron could answer Rojin question, he had already ran of to the inn.

“These youngsters… always in a hurry.”
Ambron kept on walking towards the Green Griffon. As he approached the inn, the sounds became louder and the air got filled with the smell of blood. It made his lost instincts surface, and he noticed he got excited.

“This doesn’t sound like an ordinary bar fight. I wonder what’s going on.”
He stopped at the door and looked inside.
People he had never seen before were fighting. And some of them were very capable indeed; especially a half elf, a dark and somewhat absent person.

Unsure who was wrong and who was right, Ambron decided not to interfere. He blocked the front door to prevent anyone from leaving.

He stood there as the fight seemed to come to an end.

[Arcane]

Yllidan blacked out from pain. He had never hurt so much in his life.

He awoke as soon as he fell and looked at the door.

He attempted to crawl towards the door but found a figure blocking it.

He looked up pitifully and moaned.

Darkness overwhelmed him once more.

[Rob-hin]

The half-elf was something else!
His fighting technique resembled the style of a dancer; as if he were dancing with his opponents. It was unlike Ambron had ever seen before.

After narrowly escaping from a swing of the big fighter’s sword, the half-elf was back on his feet.

He had his opponent bested in every way; if Ambron was right about this guy, the greatest danger seemed to lurk from within. Ambron had watched him closely; he noticed an absent look on the face of this skilled warrior. It was the reason of his mistake earlier.

This judgement had formed in Ambron’s mind in a few seconds. Then a new attack on the half-elf drew his attention.

This should be interesting…

The barbarian took a swing with his sword. In his rage, he hardly knew what to aim for. The half-elf easily evaded the strike by leaning back; he knew now that he could take this man on in a heartbeat.

Frustrated by his lost attack, the barbarian now handled his weapon with two hands. Holding it high above his head he went in for one ‘all or nothing’ attack. His blood red eyes focused purely on this irritating ‘little’ half-elf.

His blade came flashing down; but suddenly all energy and fears ness fell off of his attack.
The long thin blade of the katana pointed out of the man’s back, painted red with blood. His eyes were wide open, totally surprised and unsure about what had happened. As the big ox fell forward; the half-elf quickly pulled out his sword and stepped aside.
A loud crash was heard as the man fell on the ground, dead.

[Craig]

Rojin let the man drop and stared at the half-elf fight. He swung the katana as an extension of his arm, no it was his arm, and when he moved it seemed as if he didn't think. Rojin only wished he could be like that, of course without the weapon.

[Rob-hin]

Just a few minutes ago, the room was filled with screaming and the iron against iron sound of swords hitting against each other.
Now, the silence was deafening.

In the middle of some broken furniture stood the strange fellow from before; he was covering his left arm in pain. With a look of amazement, he stared at the half-elf.
When he realised Ambron was looking at him, he stood up straight, looked him in the eyes and nodded.

A clay cub rolled of a broken table, with a loud noise it hit on the ground and broke the long lasting silence.

Bodies covered the floor of the Inn, but the wizard was still missing. Had he transported out of here; could he be so powerful?
“No, then he would have stronger friends. Besides, if he could teleport, then he could have done some real damage with high level spells… instead of magic missiles.
He must still be here, invisible.”

A man he had not seen before rose up from his chair in the back and looked upon the damage caused in the room. Against the chair stood a big shield and in his right hand, he held a morning star.
He looked tired but intrigued about recent events.

A halfling had passed out on the floor in front of Ambron and moaned in pain. As Ambron looked at him, he noticed the halfling wasn’t very big. “You need to work out some more.” He said to himself and smiled.

Suddenly, the wooden floor in front of him made a cracking noise. With the wizard still in the back of his mind, the sound immediately drew his attention.
Ambron leaped forward towards the origin of the noise.

Startled, the wizard started casting a spell. It was in vain, no spell could be casted before Ambron was there.
Ambron swung his staff across the floor and swooped the wizard’s feet from underneath him. While falling, he became visible again.
As he hit the floor, Ambron jumped upon the wizard and gauged him. “Ha ha! Try casting spells now fellow!”

He sat on top of the wizard while forcing his hands to the floor.
Ambron looked trough the room waiting for someone to throw him a rope.

“Someone’s gonna help me with this guy or not?”

[Craig]

Rojin walked over, controlling ever eye in the bar; but one, beacuse of his outlandish clotheing. He reached down and helped hold the wizard,
"Go get some rope, I have no idea where it would be, you may."

[Magus]

A faint glow emanated from the katana as the half-elf stood over his fallen foe. His expression betrayed no pride, no satisfaction, no remorse. Nothing. He slipped the katana into its sheathe and surveyed the room with a disinterested glance. It was over.

More wine, that’s what he needed. What had he done with his glass? He looked around again. A few feet away lied a man in two pieces, the ground smeared with blood and tiny fragments of glass. He frowned. Now how was he supposed to drink his wine? On a whim, out of habit perhaps, he reached down and went through the corpse’s pockets. A bag of gold. A few daggers, one of which shined a little brighter than the rest. Hmm, a scroll. A dark look crept across his formerly expressionless features. He quietly pocketed the bloodstained note, the dagger and the gold, and rose. It was time to leave.

As he was about to leave, something lying on the ground caught his eye. He walked over to the dead archer and kneeled down. The corpse was black and smoldering, but the short bow lying next to him was undamaged. A curious feeling ran through him as he picked it up. Like he had used one before. He fingered it, drawing it taut with the nimbleness of experience. He gave a mental shrug and stood, then walked to the door, bow in hand.

[Craig]

"Wait!" Rojin called still trying to keep the capturee still. "Who are you?"

[Rob-hin]

Ambron had found a rope long enough to tie someone up.
He put the wizzard on his back and tied his hands together.

Then he put the man on a chair and went through is pockets in search of weapons.

"Wait, who are you? He heard.

Ambron looked up and saw the half-elf leaving.
"Your not going anywhere friend! Not untill I get some answers."

[Magus]

"Wait! Who are you?” someone called.

Something about the voice caught the half-elf’s attention. He stopped and turned around. A skinny youth kneeled a couple meters away, binding a black-robed man to a chair. One of the people who had attacked him, he faintly remembered. Who are you? echoed the voice in his head.

“Gilthanas,” he muttered. He stood there for a moment, an almost puzzled look clouding his eyes. Such a simple question, really…

"You’re not going anywhere friend! Not until I get some answers,” rose another voice, deep and surly. He turned his attention to the dwarf, who now stood blocking his path. He gazed levelly at the dwarf, his face expressionless, unreadable. “You heard me, half-elf. I want to know what’s going on here. Now.” The dwarf returned the stare steadily, not giving an inch.

“They were after my katana. Someone sent them. I intend to find why.” He started to push past Ambron, then stopped. He walked over to the bound wizard and reached out. Before the other two knew what had happened he'd removed the gag and drawn his sword, pressing the weapon firmly against the man’s throat.

“Who’s Reglan? Why does he want my weapon?” Gilthanas snapped, cold steel in his eyes. The wizard’s eyes widened in fear; he began to cough uncontrollably. The half-elf didn’t let up in the slightest. Blood began to dribble down the man’s throat.

“Tell me!” Gilthanas snarled.

[Craig]

"Stop!" Shouted Rojin, quite panicy, he regained his composure and said, "Yopu can't kill someone for information, even these people deserve a fair trial, or atleast something." Rojin walked over to the injured man, Layed his hands on his neck, healing it.
"I can do that again but I can't stop him hurting you."