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Glim
 
PostPosted: Sun, Aug 24 2014, 14:04 PM 

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Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

OOC:
This thread will be used for posts pertaining to an expedition that will primarily be forum based, interspersed with IG events here and there. Anyone who is a part of the preparations is welcome to post here (if you're unsure, please ask before posting) and for now it will mostly be "setup work" with the main amounts of posting and the events set to take place after some current events have died down.

*-*-*-*-*


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Sun, Aug 24 2014, 14:05 PM 

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Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

The two Netherese men made an odd pairing, stealing into the sleepy village of Uhm in the dead of night. Both shrouded in dark armor, cowls, and fluid shadows, they could have been brothers. Pale flesh and dark hair framed angular features, and both bore monstrous traits, albeit in very different ways. Violet, eldritch light burned in the eyes of one warrior, while the other was possessed of sunken cheeks and ghoulish, clawed digits. They seemed inseparable, though the clawed one preferred to lurk in the background, masked, while his more aesthetically pleasing companion handled any speaking. Coins were used to grease the palms and loosen the tongues of the town's night owls, and a ship captain of questionable reputation was located and roused from his sleep, rum fumes lingering in the air about him.

His protests were silenced by a hand laid meaningfully upon an amethyst inlaid hilt, and an offer presented. Many thousands of coins were to change hands, should an ambitious captain be willing to risk a run-in with an Amnish vessel and deliver two men to Waterdeep, with no further questions asked. A chest of gold was offered up front, and the pirate was suddenly greatly increased of disposition and hospitality. The two walked solemnly to the docks, and disappeared into the damp shadows of the hold of a ship, all but invisible. Unnoticed even to the sailors, they occupied themselves with their own quiet conversation as the captain roused his men and prepared to head underway.


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Sun, Aug 24 2014, 14:06 PM 

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Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

The atmosphere on board the ship was tense, the crew uneasy with the captain's strange decision to risk the war galleons without a cargo to speak of. Passing the vicinity of the Amnish-traveled waters was uneventful, however, with the two eerie figures emerging long enough to shroud the ship in preternatural darkness, the vessel slipping into the night itself. There was no chanting, no spell casting, only the deepest silence as the two men focused in tandem. When any danger was passed they retreated back into their cabin. The crew learned quickly to avoid the pair, for the air near them always felt wrong and cold, and they offered no conversation in return. They did not join the others to take meals, seeming content to mind their own conversations, or meditate in the darkness of the unlit hold.

It was perhaps the easiest gold the crew had made in some time, with the trip passing uneventfully save the occasional summer squall. When the City of Splendors grew visible on the horizon, one Netherese templar broke his long silence to inform the captain, quite simply, that the ship was to dock at night. He acquiesced, and upon nearing the docks some hours later, he was surprised to find his passengers gone, the second half of their payment left in their cabin before the ship could even cast lines.


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Thu, Sep 04 2014, 3:57 AM 

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Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

The two men emerged from their Shadow Jump behind a forgotten building at the edge of the docks, staying low and out of sight. They waited two breaths, and when no shouts of alarm were raised one templar motioned to the other, a universal 'stay put' gesture. Swiftly, stout iron claws were retrieved from a utility belt, pulled over fingers to nestle tightly in the palm of the pale man's hands. He leap up, and with disturbing, inhuman dexterity proceeded to scale the old warehouse. Kneeling at the top of the decaying building, keeping the gloom pulled close to him like an umbral blanket, the Shadovar surveyed the cityscape they found themselves in. Keen eyes quickly picked out men in uniforms, and a route was chosen through the sprawling metropolis to avoid most of them on the way to the edge of town. The man turned back to the ledge and with a brush of will, the gloom around him was brought together into a solid filament, then tied around a window bar. Insubstantial rope in hand, he slid back down the side of the building to land in a crouch beside his unseen companion, the rope melting off into inky smoke a moment after. He spoke softly into the shadows, his voice hushed and sibilant.


”The city feels tense. There are more guard patrols than is usual for this time of night, but it seems they aren't geared for war just yet. It doesn't look like we have to worry about curfews or soldiers. I didn't see anyone bearing enchantments. Nevertheless, we both look too Arcanum to simply walk the streets. I had hoped to find supplies, but I think it better to hurry past this city and get on the road as quickly as possible. We'll raid the stables on the outskirts, though. I don't fancy doing the whole trek on foot.”


”I am not so fond of horses.”


”Nor am I, but we'll make do. Do you need anything from the town?”


”The ship offered little opportunity to hunt.”


”Hunt? Oh, bloody hells. If you'd have accepted my training there would be other ways. I suppose we'll have to take more than horses from the stables, then.”


”So be it, then, and spare the lecture, Castellan.”


The templar smirked under his cowl and motioned for his dour companion to follow. They moved swiftly through the city in tandem, the master shadowdancers having little difficulty avoiding the eyes of citizens and guards, picking out a careful route South through back streets and alleys. The gaunt, agile warriors moved more like creatures than men, boosting one another over obstacles or simply phasing through the shadows themselves to appear at a point closer to their goal. The crossed the city with supernatural alacrity, vanquishing metropolitan distances in minutes that would take a normal traveler hours on the streets.


Soon, they were at the base of the imposing city walls, staring up at the guards patrolling the parapets. Close by, the South Gates of the City of Splendors was busy and crowded, even in the dead of night. The last bastion against the Arcanum never truly slept as refugees streamed in. They trailed along the wall further south until the din grew quieter, pausing at a section under lighter guard. The templar muttered to his companion again.


”Up you go, claws. The lookout would see the hook I would have to throw. Deal with him and I'll follow you up.”


The gaunt figure simply nodded and approached the wall. He jerked his gloves off and tucked them into his belt, revealing long, bony claws in the stead of hands. Wordlessly, he began to scale the wall, claws sinking deep into the mortar between stones as though it were clay. The knight at the bottom watched the other soldier clamber the wall like a grotesque amalgamation of man and insect, pausing at the parapets, head canted to listen. The unwary guard at the top seemed more focused on potential threats from outside the city, not within. As the unfortunate soul patrolled close to the creature hanging from the ledge, the creature leaped, and both vanished from sight beneath the edge of the parapets, completely silently.


The knight at the bottom waited patiently, though it was many minutes before a line was cast down for the shadovar to climb. He had gotten nervous, pacing a bit, and all but flew up the spidersilk rope when it was thrown. To his surprise, the guard was gone, but the bloody remains of his armor was not, piled in a shadowy, out of the way corner. The man was picking his jagged fangs with a long claw.


”You just couldn't wait any longer?”


”He was alone. It was convenient.”


He gestured with a claw over the other side of the parapets, to the torchlit outskirts of the city. In the distance the templar could make out the hazy shapes of horses...and more guards. A military stable.


”There's our goal. They'll have the best horses and plenty of supplies. We can commandeer armor and livery, as well, so we are not bothered on the roads. After you, Castellan.”


The other knight looked thoughtful for a long moment, then picked up the devoured guard's stout club, nodding once. He gave the stables a hard stare, then stepped into the night itself and was gone. The wight followed after a heartbeat, only languid swirls of black vapor marking his passage through the Fringe.


 
      
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