The Shadowed Legacy

[Rob-hin]

As Gilthanas was stopped interrogating for a second, Ambron suddenly recalled the Halfling who had passed out on the floor in front of the door.
He reached into his pocked a pulled out a small bottle. As he took of the cap, a strong sent rose up from it.

Ambron kneeled down next to the Halfling and swung the bottle under his nose. A reaction followed soon.
Discussed by the smell, the unknown Halfling opened his eyes. The expression on his face made Ambron smile. He snapped his fingers in front of him a couple of times to get his attention.

“Do you know where you are?”

[Bad Karma]

Arvyon raised his head from the ground groggily. Apparently he had been swept up in what appeared to be a brawl. He slowly rose to his feet, and after getting his bearings he noticed some figures that remained. Voices echoed through his head, though his mind was swimming and he could not make them out entirely.

As he began to recover fully, Arvyon went over to a dwarf kneeling by a halfling. He heard the question: "Do you know where you are?"

I would like to know that for myself, Arvyon thought wearily. He patted the dwarf on the shoulder and asked him kindly, "Is the little one injured?"

[Rob-hin]

While the Halfling woke up, someone tapped Ambron on his shoulder.
"Is the little one injured?" As Ambron turned his head, he saw friendly face looked at him.
A relatively big guy leaned over curiously.
“Yes, nothing too serious though. I think he’s coming around.”
Ambron hoisted him up and place him in a chair. “He should be fine.”

Then he turned around and faced the big guy; trying his best to get a general impression of this fellow. His bright blue eyes focused on the man’s eyes, the window to the soul.
“You are a good man; now leave before things get messy. Take the small guy with you.”

Thinking this was taken care of, Ambron focused on Gilthanas again.
“This is not the way we take care of business around here! I believe you were provoked by them; don’t prove me otherwise or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
Ambron kept his fear of Gilthanas hidden, adrenaline rushed through his body. It made him feel alive again; still, he kept his cool as he always did.

The room was silent for a second and Ambron was unsure what would happen. Gilthanas had not answered yet; he kept his focus on the bound wizard.

Ambron took a deep breath. “I am Ambron, and I’m willing to let you interrogate this guy. But don’t go too far.”

[Arcane]

Do you know where you are?
Do you know where you are?
Do you....

Yllidan blinked, sat up and looked around. The bar was still there, the wizard he had tried to fire was on his bottom, a halfelf and another figure standing over him.

"Damn." he said grogilly.
"He's awake!"

Yllidan looked about and saw he was surrounded by figures. He gingerly touched his shoulder and winced.

"I can help with that." said one of the men, a cleric, it seemed.

He laid his hands upon Yllidan's shoulder and his mouthed moved softly.

"Better?"

Yllidan nodded.

"Thanks." he added.

His attention turned to the wizard, bound and gagged, on a chair.

[Magus]

“I am Ambron, and I’m willing to let you interrogate this guy. But don’t go too far.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Gilthanas stated coldly without a sideways glance. He stared steadily at the bound wizard in front of him, his eyes hard, unyielding. He held his blade naked at his side; should the man prove uncooperative, he knew what was coming. “I’ll ask one more time,” he said, the threat clear in his voice. “Who is Reglan? Why does he want my katana?”

“I-I don’t know!” the wizard stammered, flinching. “Erik was the one he dealt with. He just told us the jobs, and we did them. I swear!” The man eyed the blade the half-elf was holding, trembling, his eyes wide with terror, like a cornered rabbit with nowhere left to run.

Gilthanas eyed the man for a long moment. “Hmph. You’re useless,” he decided contemptuously. He sheathed his katana and picked up the short bow. “I see you again, and you’re dead.” He turned and walked out the door, ignoring the protests behind him.

As they watched the stranger leave, the others suddenly had the sinking feeling that they had beheld, no, helped thwart, something more than just a simple mugging. And, like it not, they were now witnesses…

* * * * *

“A quiver and a full load of arrows,” Gilthanas muttered. “And a backstrap,” he added.

“Very good.” The clerk went to the backroom and fetched the goods. Gilthanas took them and laid the money on the counter. Leaving the store, he spotted a large crow on a nearby tree. He drew his new short bow and fired. The bird let out a startled squawk and flew away, the arrow embedding itself in the tree a few inches away. Gilthanas stood there for a moment, something vaguely stirring in a darkened corner of his mind. As he went to grasp it, the spark sputtered and died, and he was cast into darkness once again.

[Aegis]

Heresh leaned heavily against the side of the building breathing heavily, with his cheeks puffed out, and lips purkered into an oval shape. He really had run quite fast, though, since coming to this plane, he learned how to do so. He rocked his head back, and placed it against the rough wooden wall of the store he had decided to against, occasionally rubbing his chin from where it had been bruised shortly ago. He let out a pleased sigh, seeing as he was allowing himself time to rest, but it was quickly interupted by the loud squawking of a nearby crow. He sighed again at the interuption, then pushing his head forward, he glanced around the edge of the building. He saw the Half-elf from the tavern, and he seemed to be spooking the wild life. He gently pushed his shades back up a notch, them having slid slightly when he moved his head, with his middle finger. He watched as the half-elf make some weird facial expression, almost like that a sheep makes mid-quarters, then stop for a moment.

"Hmph..." grunted Heresh to himself, and pushing himself to his feet. "First he doesn't want to talk, and now he's shooting at crows... Not a pleasant fellow." Once on his feet, Heresh dusted his coat trails off, and straightend it. He then ran one hand through hair, making sure the blonde strainds were sufficiently spiky. He then grunted again, stiffened his arms and legs, and marched over to the distant Half-elf, his march resembling that of a tiny tin soldier, that was poorly oiled, and not capable of much more than comically walking. To people around, he must've appeared quite a sight, but it did little to deter Heresh and his new "mission." "Hey! You there!" He called over the the Half-elf, raising his hand, and pointing directly at him. The half breed seemed not to notice. "Hey!" he called again, still no response. Heresh continued to march forward, kicking up small clouds of dust in the process.

Just before Heresh came within an arm's length of the half-elf, the distinct sound of metal sliding against metal as heard, the flash of light gave away the fact a blade had been drawn. Just as fast as the half-elf drew his blade, though, Heresh had his own weapon drawn. It was a pecular device, to say the least. It was as if it had once been a cross bow, but the sturdy trunk of the weapon had been replaced with a hollow metal tube, and a chamber of some sort, with six indents in it. It still had the trigger, but was compact enough to be held with one hand. In his hast, though, Heresh seemed to have forgot which way the weapon was held, and he was firmly holding the weapon, barreling in hand, hilt towards the half-elf, as if handing it to him. Almost as fast as his weapon was drawn, Heresh realized his mistake, and let out a panicked yell, tossing the weapon slightly into the air, and juggling with it momentarly from hand to hand before getting it right, and grabbing it firmly by the handle. He gave out a relieved sigh, and wiped his forehead with his free hand, slouching somewhat in the process.

The half-elf's face seemed to darken with the display in front of him, and his weapon lowered slightly. "Be off, drunkard..." he stated coldly, sheathing his weapon completly, and turning his body away. "I have no wish to gut a careless fool." His head snapped towards Heresh, his long hair catching in the wind, creating an almost dramtic effect. "Especially one such as yourself... It would be a waste of time..." the half-elf then turned, retrieved his arrow, and walked off to be with his thoughts.

Heresh blinked through his jade green shades, watching the half-elf walk off, and lowered his own foreign weapon, wondering what just happened.

"Hey! There he is!"

Heresh snapped back into reality, and turned to the side. The four men from earlier had apparently dusted themselves off, and begun to look for him again.

"Get him!" shouted the lead man, pointing towards Heresh, and the other three charging past.

Heresh let out one of his ungodly yelps, his face contorting into the weirdest of appearances, then, without a moments pause, he turned around, and darted off, down the road, his arms and legs pumping profusely, and his head tilted back, leaving a trailing wail as he ran...

[Rob-hin]

"He just left... damn him!”
In the room hung an aura of total silence. Frustrated, Ambron balled his fists and yelled. “How could all of this just happen?”

“Damn…”
The inn was totally wrecked, chairs and tables damaged beyond repair and there was blood everywhere. A feeling of defeat came over Ambron and he felt old and useless.

Slowly he walked around towards the bar. As he walked, he picked up cubs and put tables back on their feet while passing them by.

Leaning on the bar, Ambron suddenly felt very angry.
Without any warning or reason, he gave out a yell and slammed on the bar as hard as he could. He felt better after this.

After he had calmed down a bit, he walked over to the wizard.
“Well well, what should we do with you?” Best leave you to the proper authorities…”
With the words still hanging in the air, Luskan guards walked in through the door.

“Talk about the devil!” Laughed Ambron.
“Hello Ambron, what happened this time old man?”

Old man…

After Ambron explained what had happened, all he wanted was to get out of there as fast as he could.
“You’ll take care of this scumbag?” The guards confirmed by nodding.

With his mind somewhat at ease, Ambron picked up his staff and walked towards the front door.

[Rob-hin]

Without a goal, Ambron wondered around the area.
He stopped to light his pipe and looked up to the sky, he felt small and old. His mind told him he still had the skills but at this moment his emotions had the overhand.

After a while he resumed his way and strolled onwards.

[Arcane]

As Ambron walked out of the inn, Yllidan stood and ran after him.

"Excuse me sir." Yllidan's voice disrupted Ambron's thoughts.
"Aye? How can I help ye?"Ambron turned and answered.
"Was it you who had healed my wounds?"
"Nae lad, I believe it was another man there," Ambron said.
"I was wondering sir, whether ye would need an extra arm in protecting and patrolling the area sir. An arm adept in some magic as well..."
Ambron looked the halfling up and down.

Yllidan waited for an answer.

[Rob-hin]

"It is late..."
Ambron didn't expect such a question.
He had always lived alone, only having casual friends. Though he would like some compagnie at the moment; someone to talk with.

"Since yer not from around here, perhaps ya like to stay at my house... Hah, I don't think the Griffon will be open t'night!"
He turned and patted the halfling on the back.

"If yer still interested in tha mornin then we'll talk about it.
How does that sound to ya? I'm to tired to think about this now."

"What's yer name littl' one?"

[Craig]

Stunned by the events, Rojin watched the main playersd in the battle leave, and he followed the dwarf and halfling at a distance

[Arcane]

ooc: sorry i took so long to reply, ive been swamped, i think we all are.

"Yllidan sir, I am a haffer of modest magic ability."

Ambron nodded.

"Ye sure you'll be of service with yer shoulder torn án'all?"
"I'm fer thinking it will sir."
"Come then, with me.''

The two strange looking companions then set out for Ambron's house.

[damien the 3rd]

as Yllidan and Ambron walked to the house, Malsar frowned harshly at the pair from his tiny cottage. The ancient, yet relativly weak, lich had been disturbed by the recent events, especcially those his scrying spells had revealed as followers of Mask. He got up from his stool and put on his deep red robes, a symbol of his Red Wizard status and began limping towards the direction of the halfling and dwarf. Though he was in fine condition for his age, but he keeps the image of an elderly old peddler who sold simple potions so he grabbed his staff and followed at a distance he was comfortable with and stared harshly as he moved. He kept a scrying spell at his ready in case he heard any noise. That half-elf with the katana was strange in more than just his actions and his divinations had not in the slightest way revealed anything about him, something he hated more than anything. It made him feel so insecure and weak, something few Red Wizards liked to think. He would have to use more Mundane methods to find about him.

As Malsar followed the two, he felt a snag on his long robe. he looked down and saw a dagger grabbing his robe. Growling, he picked up the dagger and moved to throw it away, but he saw a dark glint that gave off the image of dark light. he moved to examine it and saw the word "Half-Elf" imprinted in blood red letters near the tip. For reasons he did not know, and wished to find out, the words were glowing and giving an angry whispers in his undead mind. He felt a dark shadow go for his face and he threw the dagger down into a bowl. He threw down his mundane staff and pulled out what appeared to be an old, withered stick but the slightest blow would cause plague within the recipitent of its dire blows. Hew knew that this half-elf had earned some powerful enemies, and had just gained a powerful ally, himself.

"Enough of this worthless charade," he snarled to himself. " Let's see what this old dwarf knows that i Can't decipher

[Rob-hin]

With a big and heavy metal key Ambron opened the front door.
The door opened slowly without any sound at all, Ambon liked to keep his his house in good shape.
"Ya go in and make yer'self comfortable while I smoke me pipe outside, I must think.”

Yllidan looked at him and nodded.
“Fine young fella he is.” Ambron said to himself while he walked over to a small bench he made himself. It wasn’t pretty but it was comfortable enough. “Needs to buff up a bit though.”

He sat down, lit his pipe and tried to look back on recent events.
“Gilthanas…”

[damien the 3rd]

Malsar approached the dwarf's house from the left, out of sight. he appeared to be muttering to himself, so the lich could not get anything the mundane way. He began muttering a detect thoughts spell at the dwarf...