Post by whandall on Jun 11, 2020 19:02:36 GMT
It was the Dead of Night when Whandall left the Avelorn warcamp. He chose to wear his custom padded Dalakoi which lets him move very silently, he also picked up his glaive, a dagger, a health potion and his green hodded cloak. He pulled his hood deeply in his face and joined a group of Shades who where escorting a supply convoy headed for Khalad Lir.
The sun came up when they left the forest behind and he cleared out of the convoy, taking a path that lead him to the far east of Khalad Lir. The words from Lord Duvaindir where still in his mind. He knew failure was not an option. He took a deep breath and calmed himself, checking the Drachau's map again and making sure he was on the right track.
As he approached the place noted on the map, the grassy terrain of Ellyrion broke into a rocky and mountainous area. A winding path lead northwards, and ultimately to a ruined asur watch tower. The structure was derelict, and appeared to have collapsed into itself. Debris lined the area around it, and the grass bore the stains of fire, as if it were burned to the ground only recently.
He dismounted and screened the area. After making sure that he wasn't followed and that no one else was around the tower he carefully snuck inside. He immediately knew that something was very wrong. The sudden feeling of dread nearly overwhelmed him. There was an aura of intense feeling of suffering and sadness, the air was hard to breathe and still seemed filled with smoke. Whandall instinctively took cover behind a broken pillar and made sure that the room was empty.
Readying his weapon he slowly approached the next room. He froze in his steps as heard the sounds of a female in pain and pleading for a quick end followed by the crack of a lash. He waited and listened for a few moments but the voice was gone. As he slowly snuck inside he could make out several torture tools spread on the floor. In the middle was a charred table. As he moved past to reach the next room he could still feel the pain emanating from it.
The next room was deserted as well and a little damp. He could quickly make out the opening that would lead him to the cistern. He quickly moved towards it and wanted to slip through as he saw two glowing red eyes, staring at him from the other side. He managed to find his balance with a quick sidestep and jabbed at them with his glaive. But there was only darkness now and the sounds of footsteps splashing through water followed by a faint giggling. "By Khaine, I hate magic...." he thought as he stepped through.
He quickly scanned his surroundings and instantly found what he was looking for. The item the Drachau send him to find was right there sticking out of the mud. He carefully packed it inside his saddlebag. He turned to leave as he heard something in the water again. Whirling around and readying his weapon not a second too late a swarm of snakes shot out of the murky water and attacked him. Swinging his glaive in a wide arc he gracefully managed to cut through a few of them. His quick movements in the water seemed to irritate the swarm as none of the fanged maws managed to reach him. With a few more slashes and cuts he quickly disposed of the rest of them. Taking another quick look around he slowly retreated back to the tower.
He hesitated for a moment, deciding either to just head back now or take a look at the rest of the tower. Whandall wanted to make sure that he didn't miss anything of importance so he wanted to check the remaining rooms. He continued to explore the other areas and was able to find a small chest under some rubble, containing a silver brooch with a gemstone and some fine engravings.
The last room of the tower was not deserted. Whandall could smell them before they came into view. Two skeletons were lying in wait and attacked him with their rusty spear and sword. He parried the spear and his armor protected him from the blade. His own attack missed but he managed to use the tight to his advantage so that the skeletons had a hard time to attack him in unison. He cursed as his next blow got deflected and the blade of his glaive shattered on the stone walls of the tower. The skeleton used the opening to strike through his armor and cut into his arm. He ducked and drew his dagger, quickly closing in on his enemies and stabbed at them. Using his swiftness to stay close he managed to take them both down while making it near impossible for the skeletons to land a blow.
Finding only shattered bones, he decided to not press his luck any further and make his way back. After he left the tower behind and reached his cold one he provisionally tended to his wound and began his journey back to Avelorn.
The sun came up when they left the forest behind and he cleared out of the convoy, taking a path that lead him to the far east of Khalad Lir. The words from Lord Duvaindir where still in his mind. He knew failure was not an option. He took a deep breath and calmed himself, checking the Drachau's map again and making sure he was on the right track.
As he approached the place noted on the map, the grassy terrain of Ellyrion broke into a rocky and mountainous area. A winding path lead northwards, and ultimately to a ruined asur watch tower. The structure was derelict, and appeared to have collapsed into itself. Debris lined the area around it, and the grass bore the stains of fire, as if it were burned to the ground only recently.
He dismounted and screened the area. After making sure that he wasn't followed and that no one else was around the tower he carefully snuck inside. He immediately knew that something was very wrong. The sudden feeling of dread nearly overwhelmed him. There was an aura of intense feeling of suffering and sadness, the air was hard to breathe and still seemed filled with smoke. Whandall instinctively took cover behind a broken pillar and made sure that the room was empty.
Readying his weapon he slowly approached the next room. He froze in his steps as heard the sounds of a female in pain and pleading for a quick end followed by the crack of a lash. He waited and listened for a few moments but the voice was gone. As he slowly snuck inside he could make out several torture tools spread on the floor. In the middle was a charred table. As he moved past to reach the next room he could still feel the pain emanating from it.
The next room was deserted as well and a little damp. He could quickly make out the opening that would lead him to the cistern. He quickly moved towards it and wanted to slip through as he saw two glowing red eyes, staring at him from the other side. He managed to find his balance with a quick sidestep and jabbed at them with his glaive. But there was only darkness now and the sounds of footsteps splashing through water followed by a faint giggling. "By Khaine, I hate magic...." he thought as he stepped through.
He quickly scanned his surroundings and instantly found what he was looking for. The item the Drachau send him to find was right there sticking out of the mud. He carefully packed it inside his saddlebag. He turned to leave as he heard something in the water again. Whirling around and readying his weapon not a second too late a swarm of snakes shot out of the murky water and attacked him. Swinging his glaive in a wide arc he gracefully managed to cut through a few of them. His quick movements in the water seemed to irritate the swarm as none of the fanged maws managed to reach him. With a few more slashes and cuts he quickly disposed of the rest of them. Taking another quick look around he slowly retreated back to the tower.
He hesitated for a moment, deciding either to just head back now or take a look at the rest of the tower. Whandall wanted to make sure that he didn't miss anything of importance so he wanted to check the remaining rooms. He continued to explore the other areas and was able to find a small chest under some rubble, containing a silver brooch with a gemstone and some fine engravings.
The last room of the tower was not deserted. Whandall could smell them before they came into view. Two skeletons were lying in wait and attacked him with their rusty spear and sword. He parried the spear and his armor protected him from the blade. His own attack missed but he managed to use the tight to his advantage so that the skeletons had a hard time to attack him in unison. He cursed as his next blow got deflected and the blade of his glaive shattered on the stone walls of the tower. The skeleton used the opening to strike through his armor and cut into his arm. He ducked and drew his dagger, quickly closing in on his enemies and stabbed at them. Using his swiftness to stay close he managed to take them both down while making it near impossible for the skeletons to land a blow.
Finding only shattered bones, he decided to not press his luck any further and make his way back. After he left the tower behind and reached his cold one he provisionally tended to his wound and began his journey back to Avelorn.