Monday, May 08, 2006 @ 2:27 PM


18 December (Chapter Two)

Dusk, 18 December, 1250

Desrade and Appollo rode on their steeds toward the countryside on the king's command. The king had been tricked by them into believeing that Kript would be meting them in the tavern, when he is not. When they arrived in the 'Jolly Sandy' tavern, they dismounted their horses in the stable and went inside. It was crowded with bards, local villagers, drunkards, dwarves, elves, and a small group of pirates, but they were colloquial sights. The settled down and looked around for any signs of a mercenary of some sort. Desrade was looking around casually when Appollo tapped him of the shoulder, pointing at a man.

The man was morderately thin and tall. He was wearing a feathered hat over shor, jet black and messy hair. Tied around his collar was a black cape of fine cloth.He was wearing a breast plate with three finely cut steel bars covering his sides over a grey tunic, connected with a strap of black leather. A black belt with a golden buckle ensured that the tunic would not simply drop off. The leg guards were thin, polished steel plates strapped securely onto a pair of black bottoms. Leather boots with golden buckles protected his feet. Attached with a rope to his belt was a thin scimitar, and adjacent to it was a dagger in its sheath of dragon hide.

Desrade looked at how the man dressed. It resembled something familiar...but he could not remember. "That's Rictor Lasente. Top mecernary. We tried to arrest him for stealing in the name of his employers. He managed to slip past us each time, though. A true talent, he is, Desrade. He is." Appollo babbled, with Desrade half listening. This supposed Rictor is collecting money from a well dressed noble. They bade farewell, and Rictor pocketed the money in a small pouch made of sack cloth. Desrade went over and tapped Rictor benignly, and dropped a leather pouch fuull of gold coins into the mercenary's open palm. "Come, mercenary, for we need you," He said, while Appollo got up and walked towards the two.
"Yes, my employer," He said, his tone full of loyalty.
Appollo let Rictor ride on his horse, and they rode together to an old, rundown shack which they coincidentally found next to the woods. It was completely made of timber. They dismounted the horse, and when they did, they heard a wolf howl from the woods. "Be careful, my lords," Rictor advised. "Wolves are abundant in this area." Appollo was stumped, for he did not know the fact. "Many thanks, Rictor," He said as he opened the door, which groaned. They stepped in.

There were a few stools and a table. Several cupboards were built into the old walls. It was very dusty and cobwebs were aplenty.

Each of them took a seat, and Desrade lit an old candle he found in one of the cupboards. The warm glow of the candle was enough to see.

"Rictor, you're in Fragdor. The darkranancer is on the loose." Appollo started. Rictor sighed with uninterest.
"I know, the strange happenings in Fragdor are the doings of the Darkranancer." He said, but when Appollo was going to say another word, Rictor quickly added," And I know what the darkranancer is capable of, and all their history and facts."

"Very good, Rictor," Desrade complimented, setting himself down on the wooden floor. "Appollo, we shall spend the night here. Do have a good sleep, will you?" He took off his helm and lay down with the helm as a pillow. Appollo did likewise, only that he was sleeping at the table with his hands propping up his head. Rictor took off his cape, lay on the floor, and blanketed himself with the cape. Then, there was another howl of a wolf. Rictor shuddered, knowing what it actually was.

It was no wolf.

It was the Elite thieves of Fragdor.

~To be continued...

This story is brought to you by

~Departure
_.:Epee:._

Monday, May 08, 2006 @ 2:27 PM


18 December (Chapter Two)

Dusk, 18 December, 1250

Desrade and Appollo rode on their steeds toward the countryside on the king's command. The king had been tricked by them into believeing that Kript would be meting them in the tavern, when he is not. When they arrived in the 'Jolly Sandy' tavern, they dismounted their horses in the stable and went inside. It was crowded with bards, local villagers, drunkards, dwarves, elves, and a small group of pirates, but they were colloquial sights. The settled down and looked around for any signs of a mercenary of some sort. Desrade was looking around casually when Appollo tapped him of the shoulder, pointing at a man.

The man was morderately thin and tall. He was wearing a feathered hat over shor, jet black and messy hair. Tied around his collar was a black cape of fine cloth.He was wearing a breast plate with three finely cut steel bars covering his sides over a grey tunic, connected with a strap of black leather. A black belt with a golden buckle ensured that the tunic would not simply drop off. The leg guards were thin, polished steel plates strapped securely onto a pair of black bottoms. Leather boots with golden buckles protected his feet. Attached with a rope to his belt was a thin scimitar, and adjacent to it was a dagger in its sheath of dragon hide.

Desrade looked at how the man dressed. It resembled something familiar...but he could not remember. "That's Rictor Lasente. Top mecernary. We tried to arrest him for stealing in the name of his employers. He managed to slip past us each time, though. A true talent, he is, Desrade. He is." Appollo babbled, with Desrade half listening. This supposed Rictor is collecting money from a well dressed noble. They bade farewell, and Rictor pocketed the money in a small pouch made of sack cloth. Desrade went over and tapped Rictor benignly, and dropped a leather pouch fuull of gold coins into the mercenary's open palm. "Come, mercenary, for we need you," He said, while Appollo got up and walked towards the two.
"Yes, my employer," He said, his tone full of loyalty.
Appollo let Rictor ride on his horse, and they rode together to an old, rundown shack which they coincidentally found next to the woods. It was completely made of timber. They dismounted the horse, and when they did, they heard a wolf howl from the woods. "Be careful, my lords," Rictor advised. "Wolves are abundant in this area." Appollo was stumped, for he did not know the fact. "Many thanks, Rictor," He said as he opened the door, which groaned. They stepped in.

There were a few stools and a table. Several cupboards were built into the old walls. It was very dusty and cobwebs were aplenty.

Each of them took a seat, and Desrade lit an old candle he found in one of the cupboards. The warm glow of the candle was enough to see.

"Rictor, you're in Fragdor. The darkranancer is on the loose." Appollo started. Rictor sighed with uninterest.
"I know, the strange happenings in Fragdor are the doings of the Darkranancer." He said, but when Appollo was going to say another word, Rictor quickly added," And I know what the darkranancer is capable of, and all their history and facts."

"Very good, Rictor," Desrade complimented, setting himself down on the wooden floor. "Appollo, we shall spend the night here. Do have a good sleep, will you?" He took off his helm and lay down with the helm as a pillow. Appollo did likewise, only that he was sleeping at the table with his hands propping up his head. Rictor took off his cape, lay on the floor, and blanketed himself with the cape. Then, there was another howl of a wolf. Rictor shuddered, knowing what it actually was.

It was no wolf.

It was the Elite thieves of Fragdor.

~To be continued...

This story is brought to you by

~Departure
_.:Epee:._