 |
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[The Black Lodge, a favourite haunt for rogues and mercenaries...
one of the most notorious and unpredictable places in all Almagardo,
avoided by most honest folk...] A shadow cast on the floor indicates
the presence of a visitor to the inn. Hinges squeak, announcing
one's arrival. Immediately, all eyes were on the Black Lodge's most
recent customer. A mercenary looking for a drink? A rogue making a
brief stopover? No. A little girl skipped into the inn, seemingly
oblivious to the fact that she stuck out like a sore thumb among all
the grimy-faced and armoured mercs, rogues and assortment of
unsavouries that frequent this place. She skipped towards the bar
counter, humming a tune to herself as she carried a wicked-looking
scythe that seemed too large for her on her shoulders. Not only are
the people staring at her, they are now starting to whisper amongst
themselves. "Excuse me, sir," the girl said to the proprietor in a
sweet tone. "I'd like to have a root beer float with a cherry on
top." The inn proprietor, a rotund, balding man, said nothing but
stared nervously at the girl. "Aw, c'mon, what's your problem? I'm
paying for my drinks this time, honest- Oops!" the girl slapped
herself on the cheek upon realizing that the last line might very
well give her away. Looking around, she could see that everyone was
staring at her. "Hey hey hey, what's the matter with all of you?
You're all acting like you've never seen a girl around here
before... didn't your mother ever teach you that staring is rude?" A
tap on her shoulder drew the girl's attention to the inn proprietor,
who gave a loud "ahem" as he passed the girl a rolled parchment.
"For me? Really?" the girl asked. "Shall I read it now?" The man
nodded. "Ahem. Let's see... wow! That's a nice picture there! The
girl looked just like me! Now, let's see... 'Wanted: Dead or Alive.
Elandrial Dreamwalker of Dreamingvale. Aliases: The Queen of
Freeloaders. Remarks: A fugitive of justice, Elandrial Dreamwalker
is wanted for smuggling of legendary artifacts and as well as
stealing the fruit of the fabled Traal tree, which bears fruit only
once very 100 years. Her other crimes includes eating without paying
on many occasions and numerous instances of petty theft... A reward
of 10,000 G has been posted for her capture, dead or alive by order
of the Ruler of Almagardo...' hey, that sounds like...me!" At this
point, Elandrial realizes that everyone in the inn has gotten a lot
less friendly as some mercs are starting to draw their weapons. "Hey
guys..." Elandrial stammered nervously as she backed against a wall.
"...haven't you heard that we can always talk things over? You know,
like everyone always said, fighting can't solve everything... I can
ex-" Warcries bellow as the mercs surged towards her, not allowing
the girl to finish her sentence. "You guys are no fun!" Elandrial
pouted as she unshouldered her great big scythe and stood in a
combat pose, ready to 'welcome' the first wave of mercs as they
almost leapt at her. [Two and a half minutes - insert great big
cartoon fight dust cloud, lots of flying shoes and furniture in the
process - later] "Why? We could've always talked our way out..."
Elandrial shook her head sadly as mercs littered the place - some
battered and bruised, others burnt and frazzled, and some sent right
through the roof - leaving behind merc-shaped holes. The bartender
shook his head. "Mercenaries... can't live with 'em, can't live
without 'em..." - he'd only gotten the whole place fixed up three
days ago after a fierce barfight took place here. "Look, sir, I'm
really thirsty... and all that tumble and tussle only made it
worse... please, I just want a drink..." she sighed as she placed a
gold piece and two copper pieces on the counter. "Look, I'm paying,
plus tips..." That being said, Elandrial put away her scythe and
raised her hands to indicate she meant him absolutely no harm.
"Sorry about the place, though. But hey, they started it. If you
demand a compensation, I think you ought to get it from them."
Elandrial winked as she beckoned to a nearby merc lying
half-conscious on the floor, doubled over in agony. Shrugging, the
bartender went ahead to make Elandrial her drink. "Ah, many thanks
to you, good sir!" Elandrial made a quick exit after finishing her
drink, and with a good reason, as an alarm bell began tolling.
"There she is!" A voice rang out as a phalanx of men-at-arms
accompanied by mounted knights converged upon the town square.
"Man... you never give up, do you?" Even the Almagardian Royal Guard
has been mobilized. "Surrender, outlaw! Perhaps if you turn yourself
in, I might appeal with the judges on your behalf for a lighter
sentence..." Elandrial recognized the voice as a tall,
stately-looking middle-aged man in a highly-ornate suit of armour
stepped forth, the men-at-arms forming a gap in their ranks to allow
him to reach the front. Even Captain Gerald Talbot, a prominent
military officer in the Almagardian Royal Guard - and one of the
best swordsmen in the land - has decided to take this matter into
his hands. "For the last time, my name is Elandrial Dreamwalker, and
I am innocent! Okay, perhaps I did eat without paying... I do steal
wandering travelers' meals... but for the most part, I am INNOCENT!
The Scythe of Korga and the Traalberry incidents were beyond my
control - I was set up! Why won't you ever get this, you tin-hatted
oaf!" Talbot's countenance turned dark with anger behind his
helmet's faceplate... "I'd like to think you were - but if not for
the numerous times you resisted arrest..." Elandrial shrugged as she
once again stood in a combat pose... and so it goes on and on, as
one group after another of self-righteous do-gooders claim to be
acting in the name of justice try to bring her in, as she fends them
off one after another, the more misunderstood she is... such is her
life. Makes one wonder if her very fate had been a very twisted joke
from the Powers That Be?
|
|
Personality: Well, for the most part, Elendrial's just a
good-natured, adventurous and bubble-headed little girl out on a
quest to liberate her hometown, Dreamingvale, from the clutches of
an evil baron. Call her unlucky, but it would seem that one
misfortune leads to another. It started out pretty simple, really...
the first time she ate without paying at a prestigious luxury inn...
if she hadn't ran away from the constabulary, she wouldn't have
stumbled upon a mysterious cowled figure. If she hadn't stumbled
upon that mysterious cowled figure, she wouldn't have - in her
good-naturedness - offered to help him carry that big wicked-looking
scythe. Had she not helped him carry that scythe, she would not have
- in her playfulness - fiddle about with the weapon. And had she not
fiddled about with that weapon, it would not have slipped from her
hand. Had it not slipped from her hand, it would not have
accidentally struck the guy in the head. Had it not struck the guy
in the head, he would not have died instantly. Had he not died
instantly, she would not have ran away in the realization she'd
committed manslaughter. Had she not ran away in the realization that
she'd committed manslaughter, she'd not come to later discover that
the weapon now in her possession was in fact the legendary Scythe of
Korga. Had she not come to discover that the weapon was in fact the
Scythe of Korga, she would not have attracted the attention of the
constabulary. Had she not attracted the attention of the
constabulary, she would not have been constantly on the run ever
since. Had she not been constantly on the run ever since, she would
not have been constantly hungry. Had she not been constantly hungry,
she would not have picked that pretty pink berry for food during one
of her wanderings. Had picked that pretty pink berry for food during
one of her wanderings, she would not have eaten the berry. Had she
not eaten the berry, she would not have came to discover that it
came in fact from the fabled Traal Tree, that bears one fruit every
hundred years, and that its fruit is traditionally given to the
Almagardian Royal Family as a significant ritual to celebrate the
1000 years of alliance between the kingdoms of Almagardo and
Trigothia, and that eating the fruit is considered a treasonable
offence by law of both kingdoms... So had all this NOT happened,
she'd be a good-natured, adventurous and somewhat bubble-headed
little girl on an epic quest to liberate her hometown from the
clutches of an evil baron. Well, she still is a good-natured,
adventurous and somewhat bubble-headed little girl on an epic quest
to liberate her hometown from the clutches of an evil baron. Is it
just me, or am I going in circles here?
|
 |
| Strength:
|
Weak BELOW normal human strength -
can bench
press 50 pounds (maybe). |
Agility:
|
Supreme This fighter can
dodge and move
with superhuman fluidity. |
| Body:
|
Standard Normal human
endurance. |
Mind:
|
Standard Normal human mental
resources. |
 |
Still at large
|
- Power: Acrobat
- Level:Supreme
- Kit Power Link: Arcane Lore
[Time: One week after the
Black Lodge incident. Place: The Greyfern Woods, beyond which lies
territory outside the jurisdiction of the Almagardo-Trigothia alliance]
"It's now or never guys... I just got a tip-off from our contact guy that
Elandrial Dreamwalker will be passing through this area. This is our last
chance to bring her in. If she passes through this area successfully, then
she'll be in territory where Almagardian and Trigothian laws don't apply.
This is our last shot at this, so it'd better count..." Shadowy figures
darted in and out of the woods, anticipating Elandrial's arrival. "Shh!
Here she comes!" Elandrial got off from a horse-drawn wagon. "Here we are,
beyond these woods lies territory outside of the Almagardo-Trigothia
alliance's jurisdiction..." said the farmer who drove the wagon. "This is
as far as I can take you. Best of luck in your quest!" Elandrial nodded.
"Thanks mister. It's good to know that there are people who understand
me." Elandrial took a step forward, just as a throwing axe flew right past
her, thumping into a nearby tree. "Funny..." she thought as she examined
the axe stuck in the tree trunk. "It wasn't here before... I wonder where
it came from?" The mercs hidden in the underbrush began to worry as they
communicated with each other through sign language. "Have we been
spotted?" One asked. "No, I think not..." Elandrial tried to remove the
axe from the tree. "Oh, poor tree... that can cause some serious damage. I
think I'll remove it." The mercs watched silently. A good opportunity as
the girl is now open for a clear shot. "Eh... it's stuck pretty firmly..."
Elandrial thought as she tugged at the axe handle. "Gotcha!" Elandrial
tugged the axe free, though the sudden momentum caused her to fall flat on
her back, just before a poisoned blowgun dart whizzed past where her neck
would've been had she been in a standing position. "Surely it couldn't
have been mere coincidence?" One merc said to another in sign language as
Elandrial strolled along the forest trail, humming a merry tune. Another
merc crouched amid the undergrowth, armed with a crossbow. "Here she
comes..." Calmly, the merc loaded a crossbow bolt and took aim for her
neck. "WOW! I see it!" Elandrial's sudden exclamation startled the merc as
he jumped and let loose a wild shot which streaked into the surrounding
thickets, wondering if Elendrial noticed his presence... "Wow... a dragon
in the sky! What a majestic sight!" Elandrial hopped in excitement as an
adult red dragon flew over the forest, its mighty wingbeats drawing a
strong breeze. "@#$%^*..." The merc couldn't help but curse under his
breath at Elandrial's false alarm. Reloading his crossbow, he readied
himself for another shot... swearing that this time he's not falling for
any false alarms. Timing is the key... now seemed like the opportune
moment, as the merc let fly his crossbow bolt. "Ow!" Elandrial stumbled
and fell all of a sudden, as the arrow whizzed harmlessly overhead.
"Ouch... how careless of me... I think I might've scraped a knee." The
mercs couldn't believe it... Elandrial's behaviour was far too
unpredictable, to the point where she's able to get out of harm's way
simply by doing the right thing at the right time... it was little wonder
that she's managed to avoid the local authorities for so long. But
mercenaries being what they are, the few, the proud, they wouldn't up so
easily. As Elandrial crossed the bridge over the Snake River into the deep
forest, the mercs prepared for their next move, determined to bring her in
at any cost.
 |
Disadvantage: Phobia
|
"This was all
about business at first... but now, it gets personal!" a merc hidden in
the foliage of a tree near the bridge thought. With this plan he should
have the last laugh... rune bombs planted underneath the bridge... once
Elandrial steps onto the bridge, at the right moment he would detonate the
rune bombs. "Cut my belt in the heat of battle at the Black Lodge, would
you? Now thanks to you I've been made a laughingstock in front of my
peers!" Attached underneath the bridge were several cube-shaped stones
with pentagrams etched on them - rune bombs. In the merc's gloved hand
held a glowing gem... now, all he has to do is detonate the rune bombs
once Elandrial steps onto the middle of the bridge. "YAAAA!" Elandrial
screamed as she suddenly caught sight of a large, hairy tarantula on the
bridge railing. "SPIDERS! I... I HATE SPIDERS!!!" The girl sprang into the
air at the same instant the rune bombs detonated. Elandrial seemed to defy
gravity as she leapt - in fright - five stories into the air, before
landing on the other side of the bridge. "Hey! What..." she noticed that
the bridge was no longer there when she looked back. "Funny bridge... I
don't know why he blew such a temper..." Elandrial mused as she paused
briefly to examine the smoking remains of the bridge, all that was left
were the supporting stone columns sticking out of the water's surface;
whatever was left of the bridge that wasn't taken out by the explosion was
soon washed away by the fast-flowing river. Elandrial made a silent prayer
to the gods, thanking the heavens above that she wasn't on the bridge. "At
least he got rid of that spider for me... I can't stand them... they
absolutely creep me out... oh well, away we go" With nothing else to hold
her attention, Elandrial continued to skip her way down the dirt track
into the deep forest, humming a little tune to herself.
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The Scythe of Korga
|
They don't
call the deep forest the 'deep forest' for nothing. Elandrial cursed as
she struggled to move through an entangling mass of vines, creepers, roots
and shrubs. The innermost reaches of the Greyfern Woods are thick and
difficult to navigate, and it is no wonder few have ventured beyond this
part, simply called 'The Zone' by the locals. There are no tracks for her
to follow, just a wall of vegetation, and with only her senses to navigate
the woods. On the good side however, Elandrial was aware that the dense
forest is also a formidable natural barrier, and that was one of the main
reasons Almagardo seldom suffered attacks from the east - the same
innavigable forest hinders enemies, but it also keeps fugitives from
attempting to escaping through the Greyfern Woods. Few who tried often
lose their way in the innavigable deep forest, and were eventually tracked
down by the Almagardian authorities or by bounty hunters, or they simply
perished, falling prey either to starvation or to savage predators that
inhabit the woods. For the last frustrating time, Elandrial paused to
separate her hair from some overhead vines. Standing defiantly with her
hands on her hips, Elandrial faced off against the barrier of dense
vegetation. "Well, when the going gets tough..." That being said, she
unshouldered her scythe and twirled it about, reducing vines and creepers
within its reach to shredded vegetation. "These shrubs could sure use some
pruning..." Elandrial thought as she hacked herself a path right through
an entangling mass of vines, creepers and roots... "Are you seeing what
I'm seeing?" A grizzled veteran in a chainmail coat, wearing an eyepatch
over his right eye asked a group of mercs as they came across a path
leading right through the impentrable wall of vegetation in the deep
forest. "I'm absolutely positive Elandrial went through the deep forest
from here..." another merc replied. "Well, if that's the case, she sure
made our job easy." This was when hunting dogs brought along began to bark
in the direction of the swathe cut through the mass of vegetation. "The
hounds have picked up the scent! It... It's Elandrial Dreamwalker
alright!" The men nodded as they looked at one another. [Meanwhile...] The
dense vegetation gradually thinned out, as Elandrial found the navigation
getting easier and easier. Finally, the girl stepped out into open space.
"Wow!" A breathtaking view stretched out before Elandrial as she found
herself standing at the top of a plateau. Below its steep slopes lay miles
of green rolling plains, and in the distance was the coastline. Elandrial
marvelled at the sight sapphire-blue ocean and the open skies. She knew
that beyond the distant horizon is a big, big, big world out there.
Elandrial let loose her hair, which she had braided up to prevent it from
being caught against the thick vegetation in the deep forest, and let her
blond tresses dance in the breeze. "Ah... I see that a town lies along the
coastline..." Elandrial said to herself as she checked the map of the
land. "According to the map, it's an independent settlement that isn't
affiliated with the Trigothian or Almagardian kingdoms... heh, that's
good. I'm absolutely starved. Gotta find a tavern and get myself a nice
hot meal, and oh yeah, a root beer float with a cherry on top. ^_^"
 |
Dark Power of Korga
|
- Power: Spellcraft
- Level:Supreme
- Kit Power Link: Arcane Lore
- Ranged and Melee Attack! Attack is equally effective at range
and up close.
"Hey, bitch!" A gruff
voice coming from the deep forest not too far behind her told Elandrial
that she wasn't alone. "Oh, hi..." Elandrial sheepishly greeted a large
group of mercenaries and bounty hunters that stood before her. She could
recognize among them many familiar faces, most of whom she got the better
of one time or another. Then there were also those whom she's never seen
or heard of before, but they've probably come after the bounty put out for
her capture, now - last time she checked - raised to a whopping 50,000 G
after her numerous escapes. "So, we meet again..." a gruff voice called
out from among the ranks of the assembled mercs and rogues. Elandrial
recognized that voice, and she knew who had came to join the party... A
muscular, dark-skinned rogue with a bald head stepped forward and stamped
a booted foot on the ground. A scar began at his left temple and ran
across his face down to his right cheek, and he also had a similar scar
that began at his right temple and ran down his face all the way to the
left cheek, the two scars intersect between his eyes to form the letter
'X'. "Hey, I remember you! You're Axel, aren't you?" Axel drew his
trademarked weapon - a 120-lb dwarven-forged battle axe. "The name's
'Axel', not 'Axel'!" Elandrial scratched her head. "Funny... I swore I
said 'Axel'..." Axel shook his head. "No, no no no! It's 'Axel' - Got it?"
Elandrial shrugged. "Whatever..." The other mercs looked at one another,
nodded, and one by one drew their weapons. Today there's enough of them to
form a military regiment, and perhaps they might be able to have the
advantage of strength in numbers. "Oh, I'm so touched..." The mercs rolled
their eyes in response to that sarcastic remark.. "I'm so glad that all of
you could make it today for my farewell party. Thank you, all of you." A
cacophany of warcries pierced the air as the mercs surged forward like a
tidal wave. "Because this is the last time we can ever party like this...
so let's make this the grandest one ever!" With a sweep of her scythe,
Elandrial summoned forth a raging cyclone which tossed aside the first
wave of mercs like rag dolls. Those behind them faltered slightly, and
hesitated. They were aware that Elandrial was armed with the legendary
Scythe of Korga, one of the 10 most forbidden artifacts by decree of the
Arcanister Council, the largest and most established mage guild in all
Almagardo and Trigothia. Legends speak of an era in the distant past known
only as the Eternal War, a time when demons, monsters and creatures of
darkness fought against men. Korga, the Dark Prince, led the armies of
darkness with his scythe in hand, aptly named after himself. The Scythe of
Korga, forged by the ancient gods of darkness, bestowed upon their
champion. The legends speak that the Scythe of Korga is a weapon of
mind-boggling power, a virtually limitless fountain of arcane energy which
the wielder can draw upon. Long believed to be lost forever after the
Eternal War ended, it came as a big surprise to everyone that it was
recently rediscovered by a petty thief in western Trigothia, and an even
bigger surprise that Elandrial somehow 'relieved' the man of this
legendary artifact... "Legendary this weapon may be, she can't possibly
handle all of us! Charge, brothers!" once again, the mercs struck out in
force. A volley of fireballs followed by a bolt of lightning knocked out a
few mercs, but for the most part Elandrial still found herself
hard-pressed against the sheer weight of numbers. Fireballs, spark bolts,
snowstorms, chain lightning, cyclones, magic missiles, meteor showers, and
even a few summons - Elandrial sent a barrage of spells-a-flying, but the
mercs kept on coming. "Heh, guess I'm out of luck this time..." Elandrial
thought. But if she's going down, she's going down in a blaze of glory...
"Come on, plenty for everyone!" Elandrial flashed her scythe about as she
stood in the centre of a circle of blades...
 |
Innocent till proven
guilty |
- Power: Lucky
- Level:Superior
There was a
brief pause in the intense battle, as everyone paused to catch their
breath. "*Huff... puff...* Surrender, wench... surrender, and perhaps you
may get to die quickly and painlessly..." Axel, who surprisingly managed
to last until now, spoke with bated breath. "*Pant... wheeze...* For the
last time, Axel, I have a name, and that's Elandrial Dreamwalker!"
Elandrial was just as worn-out everyone else. "And for the last time, it's
'Axel', not 'Axel', you force out the X-sound from the pit of your
belly..." Axel retaliated likewise. "Face it, you can't beat all of us -
even if by some miracle you do, the word of the bounty placed on your
capture is going to spread beyond the lands of Trigothia and Almagardo, so
that no matter where you go, we mercenaries are gonna hunt you to the ends
of the earth! But let's not talk about that, because right now, I'm
claiming the bounty!" Axel raised his dwarven battle axe high above his
head and let out a primal warcry; in response, Elandrial twirled her
scythe a few times, and stood ready in a combat stance. "Just a minute,
bro..." another merc interjected. "What exactly do you mean by 'I'm
claiming the bounty', huh? She's mine! I've still got a bone to pick since
what happened at the Black Lodge last week!" Yet another mercenary butted
in. "No way, she killed my brother last month - I have a score to settle,
and a bounty to claim!" Elandrial protested, "H... Hey! Your brother? It
was an accident - he tripped and fell on his own halberd, it's got nothing
to do with me... I never even raised my scythe - I was running from him
for the most part, honest!" The merc did not reply to Elandrial, as yet
another merc was joining in the argument of who should settle the score
and claim the bounty. "That's strange..." Elandrial thought as the mercs
started quarreling among themselves. "Excuse me, guys? Didn't I always say
violence can't solve everything..." Elandrial spoke sheepishly as the
mercs began eyeing one another with weapons drawn. "Fine! Looks like only
the best man gets the prize!" Elandrial clapped her hands over her ears,
just as a fight broke out among the mercs. "For the sake of money, you
guys would even kill one another... 'bring me in, in the name of justice',
would you? I guess you're getting your divine retribution for having taken
the name of justice in vain, 'cause you aren't goody two-shoes yourselves.
Serves you right!" Elandrial remarked as the mercs continued to fight
amongst one another, seemingly forgetting all about who they were after.
"Excuse me?" Elandrial tried to speak, but her words were completely
drowned out by their warcries and the sounds of metal striking metal.
Before they realize what's going on, Elandrial decided that's it's about
time she high-tailed it out of here as she walked away, whistling
innocently with her hands behind her back as the men fought. "Did I say my
luck ran out just now? I guess not." Elandrial carefully made her way down
the edge of the plateau, to the plains. "Ah... even the birds sound
different, and it's all just the beginning!" Elandrial took a deep breath
as she skipped along a gravel road leading through vast wheat fields,
feeling the wind in her face and the chirping of the birds in her ears.
"Now that I see what a big world there is out there, I wonder where should
I begin with?" Elandrial thought as she reached into her backpack for some
snacks. "Wait... what have we here?" Elandrial almost forgot about the
travel brochure she got almost 6 months ago when she first set out from
her hometown of Dreamingvale. Somewhat crumpled, but still legible, on its
front page it said, "Khazan - Nexus of All Realities. A place for all
reasons, a place for all seasons." Elandrial 's eyes sparkled. "That's
great! This is where I'm headed next... Khazan, here I come- *rumble* Oh
dear... -_-' But first, I need a good meal, and a root beer float with a
cherry on top..." Elandrial groaned as she dragged herself all the way to
the town overlooking the sea. She needed a rest, a meal to fill up her
tummy, some information on Khazan, and of course, a root beer float with a
cherry on top.
|
