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The Rhyot Break - Chapter One: Endless White
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7484160" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p><span style="color: #0000FF">“Yes. Freedom. We must go,” </span>the woman replies to Zemryn, touched by her lively words and brave resolve. It was a reassurance. <em><span style="color: #0000FF">These prisoners still have spirit. There is hope.</span></em></p><p></p><p>The mysterious stranger had earlier found the silver-scaled dragonborn slave as she’d entered the perimeter of the minesite, alone in the cold, staring blankly into space. She'd freed him and quietly moved by his side to Mine Three’s hut. They’d gone the long way. Cutting far to the west, hoping not to stir the watchtower’s occupants, or stumble upon any heavily armed guards. Unusual the dragonborn might consider, how well she navigated the terrain and avoided The Korrud prying eyes.</p><p></p><p>What Thorin saw on arrival at his team’s shelter, remains the same for the rest of the group, now unchained, perhaps anxiously following the rescuer out through it's poorly aligned doors. A few steps into the chill of night, an icy touch from sparsely falling snow upon your faces, pieces of the miracle falling into place.</p><p></p><p>To your left there is a depression in the snow, drag marks that wind around the hut’s corner and out of view. Thin lines of blood trail through it like patterns in marble. To your right a similar tale. You can almost smell the sour yet alluring aroma of death and revenge. Northward, the tower is little more than a dark shape, it's light strangely gone.</p><p></p><p>A brief moment of quiet hesitation is shattered then, as from far ahead, eastwards you hear distant muffled shouts and orders issued in The Korrud tongue.</p><p><span style="color: #B22222"></span></p><p><span style="color: #B22222">“Hassilik… karas al harta! Grudda grudda!”</span></p><p>[Sblock=Translation for those who speak Dwarven]<span style="color: #B22222">“Breached… arm yourselves! Move move!”</span>[/Sblock] The woman exhales deeply, a cloud of fog drifting from her lips as she appears to prepare herself emotionally for what has, and will be done. <em><span style="color: #0000FF">Ending them all… so tempting.</span></em> But lives saved are of greater value than any taken. A team of fully armed soldiers perhaps might stand a chance, but you, her allies, are unarmed and ill-prepared.</p><p></p><p>She points to the left with a fur-gloved finger and towards the back side of the hut.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #0000FF">“We head west now. Quickly.”</span> Her eyes meet with yours and she reaches beneath her furs, pulling free a shortsword.</p><p></p><p>"<span style="color: #0000FF">Here, one of you take this,"</span> she suggests.</p><p></p><p>[Sblock=Map]<img src="http://dawnindustry.com/TRBimages/M3.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" />[/Sblock]</p><p></p><p>[OOC] <strong>All:</strong> I'll let you decide OOC who is best to take the weapon. Feel free to make perception or stealth checks in your next post, or do something else, its up to you.</p><p></p><p><strong>Faenala:</strong> You can harvest fleece from the furs you wear if you wish. Fine sand you have seen in sections of the mines, the aquamarine sometimes sitting in clumps of sandy matrix. Cured leather you are welcome to obtain through any boots or leather armor you find along the way.</p><p></p><p><strong>Gimlak:</strong> By your hearth there is a blackened old stick sometimes used to poke the fire, and the only potential makeshift weapon at this point. Outside however, you know that rocks and small pieces of fallen scree can be seen from time to time. Keep your eyes peeled for one! </p><p></p><p><strong>Gob:</strong> Feel free to join in when you can mate, just wanted to keep things moving.[/OOC]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7484160, member: 6799460"] [COLOR=#0000FF]“Yes. Freedom. We must go,” [/COLOR]the woman replies to Zemryn, touched by her lively words and brave resolve. It was a reassurance. [I][COLOR=#0000FF]These prisoners still have spirit. There is hope.[/COLOR][/I] The mysterious stranger had earlier found the silver-scaled dragonborn slave as she’d entered the perimeter of the minesite, alone in the cold, staring blankly into space. She'd freed him and quietly moved by his side to Mine Three’s hut. They’d gone the long way. Cutting far to the west, hoping not to stir the watchtower’s occupants, or stumble upon any heavily armed guards. Unusual the dragonborn might consider, how well she navigated the terrain and avoided The Korrud prying eyes. What Thorin saw on arrival at his team’s shelter, remains the same for the rest of the group, now unchained, perhaps anxiously following the rescuer out through it's poorly aligned doors. A few steps into the chill of night, an icy touch from sparsely falling snow upon your faces, pieces of the miracle falling into place. To your left there is a depression in the snow, drag marks that wind around the hut’s corner and out of view. Thin lines of blood trail through it like patterns in marble. To your right a similar tale. You can almost smell the sour yet alluring aroma of death and revenge. Northward, the tower is little more than a dark shape, it's light strangely gone. A brief moment of quiet hesitation is shattered then, as from far ahead, eastwards you hear distant muffled shouts and orders issued in The Korrud tongue. [COLOR=#B22222] “Hassilik… karas al harta! Grudda grudda!”[/COLOR] [Sblock=Translation for those who speak Dwarven][COLOR=#B22222]“Breached… arm yourselves! Move move!”[/COLOR][/Sblock] The woman exhales deeply, a cloud of fog drifting from her lips as she appears to prepare herself emotionally for what has, and will be done. [I][COLOR=#0000FF]Ending them all… so tempting.[/COLOR][/I] But lives saved are of greater value than any taken. A team of fully armed soldiers perhaps might stand a chance, but you, her allies, are unarmed and ill-prepared. She points to the left with a fur-gloved finger and towards the back side of the hut. [COLOR=#0000FF]“We head west now. Quickly.”[/COLOR] Her eyes meet with yours and she reaches beneath her furs, pulling free a shortsword. "[COLOR=#0000FF]Here, one of you take this,"[/COLOR] she suggests. [Sblock=Map][IMG]http://dawnindustry.com/TRBimages/M3.jpg[/IMG][/Sblock] [OOC] [B]All:[/B] I'll let you decide OOC who is best to take the weapon. Feel free to make perception or stealth checks in your next post, or do something else, its up to you. [B]Faenala:[/B] You can harvest fleece from the furs you wear if you wish. Fine sand you have seen in sections of the mines, the aquamarine sometimes sitting in clumps of sandy matrix. Cured leather you are welcome to obtain through any boots or leather armor you find along the way. [B]Gimlak:[/B] By your hearth there is a blackened old stick sometimes used to poke the fire, and the only potential makeshift weapon at this point. Outside however, you know that rocks and small pieces of fallen scree can be seen from time to time. Keep your eyes peeled for one! [B]Gob:[/B] Feel free to join in when you can mate, just wanted to keep things moving.[/OOC] [/QUOTE]
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