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Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

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Chapter 10-2
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“Research indicates something…unusual. ‘The Huntsman’, as He’rkhine has come to be called by various interplanar tribes of unique nomads known to us as the Gorajo, has been recorded as appearing long before our current crisis.

In fact, the earliest any of us can trace the demon’s activity is to an age where our ancient Sovereignty was little more than a cabal of mages ruling their own little fiefdoms from their strange and heavenly towers of Ivory and Darksteel. But yet, all records of that era were supposedly lost during Yahweh’s last attempt at fending off the foe we call The Mad Minds…known in their age as…Heikka?

Strange, that word. In the tongue of the Gorajo, Heikka means only one thing, and it’s a word they only use to describe strange devils hailing from worlds beyond their own nightmares. In the common tongue, the exact translation is ‘Flayer’. I wonder…these Gorajo…just what is their connection to these Invaders?”

~Skarjil Datashade Glyph [personal]: Samael’s Notes II
<><>
[Sometime in Wintumber, Date Unknown.]
The winter chill invaded Gu’Tanoth in the early morning despite the shining sun hanging over the City of Ogres. It was that same chill that had rudely awakened the young warrior from his reveries amidst the dirty and decaying sheets of animal furs that had made up his ‘bedroom’ area in the cave which was shared by all junior warriors of the tribe.

“Hmph,” the young ogre snorted, trying to recall his blissful dream. “No bloody elves. Such a shame.”

After deciding that he had nothing better to do- and really, what could be done in a cave full of filthy young ogres sleeping off the strain of training anyway?- the warrior shrugged his fur blankets off of his form, and crept out of the dark ‘room’, taking great care to not disturb the other warriors. Today, after all, was a Hu’rl*nastah for the warriors of the tribe, and he wanted to make the most of his free day as possible.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:11:12 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:13:21 by A Mad Hatter

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The ogre started walking the twisting dirt path towards the marketplace in the center of the city. Along the way, he watched with disinterest as the various ogres and their families (for lack of a better word) finally decided to get up and start the day. Some of the ogres who were rather large wasted no time in donning their ill fitting armor that they had fetched from the corpses of many fallen knights and adventurers and going about their own business, while the smaller ones took great care to wear their most worthless possessions for fear of a random mugging from one of the larger ogres.

It wasn’t until he arrived at the bustling marketplace that he had finally seen anything remotely interesting. The legendary (at least among Ogre kind) market of Gu’Tanoth was home to many exotic (again, according to Ogre kind) goods, and he had seen many of the merchants from distant lands begin opening up their stalls and hawk their wares to anyone who would spare a moment to listen. The random chatter of the market did little to soothe the bite of the winter air, but the warrior did*’t mind one bit.

“Fishies!” he heard an Ogre with webbed hands cry as it smacked a stone slab. A Mogre, he corrected himself after remembering the different subspecies of his glorious race. “Get yer fishies here! Only,” the Mogre counted its fingers, got confused after 2, and held its hands up high for all to see. “Dis many shiny t’ings!”

“Shinies! Get yer shiny things over here!” Another Ogre hollered over the din of the crowd. The warrior looked to his left and saw an Ogre dressed in strange purple clothes that reminded him of the Ancient Shamans from the world of humans. The Ogre’s slab of rock was filled with golden amulets and rings, and even stranger glass spheres which were filled with the swirling of snow.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:11:13 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:13:50 by A Mad Hatter

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The warrior curiously elbowed his way through the throng of Ogres crowding the strange merchant’s stand, and looked in awe at the strange objects scattered across the table as some of the more well to do Ogres started haggling with him. Some bought little more than simple golden rings, and others bought gems of blue and red that he did*’t know the names of. And even stranger were the ones who traded their shiny gold pieces for bone-like instruments that were humming with literal magic power that seemed peaceful in an odd way.

“Excuse me, kind Ogre,” a singsong voice said from the warrior’s right. He looked over and saw a strange humanoid figure dressed in black leathers. A dark hood was pulled low over its face, and a cloak shrouded the true shape of the figure, making it hard to tell if it was a guy or girl. “But I’m looking for a ring that you’re said to possess. Would you happen to have it, by any chance?”

The strange merchant smirked at the figure’s question. “I have lots of rings,” he replied. “So take yer pick. They’re all the same.”

“Oh, but the one I’m looking for isn’t,” the hooded figure said. “You see, I’m told this one has a black gem in the center of a silver band. Should be magical too, but I wouldn’t know if the magic would show up on any detection spell at all.”
The merchant’s eyes narrowed. “I dunno what yer on about,” he said. “What you see here is what I got. So if it aint here, I don’t have it.”

Before anyone could reply, a loud crash drew everyone’s attention to the fish stall. The Mogre merchant and his Rock Cake counterpart were locked in a struggle, each with their hands around each other’s throats. From the looks of things, the Mogre was winning, though that could’ve easily been because the Rock Cake merchant couldn’t get a good grasp on the Mogre’s slimy skin.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:11:14 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:14:31 by A Mad Hatter

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“You…no stealed… me…cus’omers!” the Rock Cake merchant gasped under the pressure of his adversary’s grip.

“I…stealed…nobody,” the Mogre coughed. “Dey…like…fishies…more dan…da rocks!”
The crowd began to chant for the pair to start trading punches, but their cries were cut short as a trio of massive Ogres in ill fitting chainmail and even more ill fitting helmets waded through the crowd, their crude weapons drawn and pointed at the struggling pair.

“What be goin’ on ‘ere?” one of the guards grunted in a guttural voice.

“He be stealing me cus’omers!” the Rock Cake seller cried as one of the guards managed to pry the Mogre off of him. “He sell da fishies for cheaper and make me lose shinies!”

“Not my fault Ogres like da fishies,” the Mogre snorted. “I just say ‘Get da Fishies ‘ere!’ and dey come for da fishies. No problem dere.”

The black cloaked figure strode through the crowd and boldly approached the scene, drawing suspicious stares in the process. “Boys, boys,” the figure said as it waved its hands in the air. “Seriously, is this not a marketplace? And are merchants not supposed to outsell the other guy to make coin?”

“He has good point,” the guard holding the Mogre replied.

“Shaddup!” another guard, presumably the captain judging by his better polished armor, admonished. “Dat may be good point, but crime is still crime. No fightin’ Ogres in Gu’Tanoth unless it’s invasion.”

“Then allow me to administer justice,” the cloaked figure said. With one swift move, two darts flew from the recesses of the figure’s cloak, and buried themselves in the throats of both merchants. They did*’t even have time to draw a surprised breath as the weapons hit their marks, and so they fell to the ground with a thud, much to the amusement of the crowd and guards. When nobody protested, the figure asked, “Is all good? Yes? Then, on with you all!”

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:11:15 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:15:08 by A Mad Hatter

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The crowd began talking amongst themselves once more as the guards casually disposed of the merchant’s bodies and dismantled their stands. The figure strode back to the strange merchant’s stall, and said, “Sorry about that. It’s been a while since I’ve haggled, so I sorta want this to be as quiet as possible.”

The Ogre’s eyes widened much to the young warrior’s surprise. “O…Of course,” he replied. “Come, let us talk at once!” The merchant shooed away the Ogres crowding his stall, and so the young warrior turned away from the strange stand with a sigh and a heavy heart. Oh how he had hoped to buy something from the stranger!

As the warrior began ascending the ramp leading towards the path to the city gate, a flash of white from the corner of his eye caught his attention. At first he saw nothing when he turned around, but when he turned back to go up the ramp, he saw the strangest creature. A wolf was walking back and forth across the ramp, eyeing the strange merchant and even stranger cloaked figure curiously. None of the other Ogres walking on the path seemed aware of the wolf, which confused the Ogre warrior. Shouldn’t an alarm sound at the sight of one of the Lu’hiriss?

Even more out of place was the wolf’s fur. Instead of the traditional gray that the wolves around the Feldip Hills region were famed for, this one had a silver coat only broken by streaks of a light blue color on its back. The wolf looked up and met the Ogre’s eyes, and he saw that instead of the traditional golden glow that all wolves had, this one had eyes that seemed to glow a purplish red.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:15:33

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The Ogre warrior carefully walked up the ramp, anxious about the beast on the path possibly making a move against him. Despite his approach, the wolf made no sudden move, nor a sound. It just sat there, eyeing him with curiosity that seemed more suitable for a house cat than a feral creature that makes its home in the jungles to the south.

“Hey there,” the warrior whispered, careful to not scare it away. He extended a hand to stroke it, and was surprised to see that not only did the wolf allow him to touch it, but the fur was softer than anything he had ever felt before. “What’s your name, wolf?”

“It’s Caninelle,” a rough voice said from behind him. The Ogre looked over his shoulder, and nearly jumped with fright when he saw the black cloaked figure standing right behind him. “And nothing personal, but I think my…friend…would like it if you take your grubby hands off of her.”

The Ogre tore his gaze to the wolf, who only looked at him with those disturbing red eyes. They held no pupils, and seemed to glow with the fires of his worst nightmare, so he stopped petting the wolf as a sense of dread washed over him.

“Who are you?” the Ogre asked curiously as the figure brushed right past him, wolf in tow.

“I suppose I should ask you the same,” the figure replied in its singsong voice.
The Ogre kept pace with the cloaked stranger. “My name’s Awiti,” he said.

The figure grunted, though it sounded more like a harsh sigh. “Sounds…Karamjan,” it said. “I did*’t know Ogres got around that far.”

“It could be,” Awiti admitted. “But I don’t know much about it. I’ve been…abandoned, for lack of a better way to put it.”

“What else is new?” the figure asked nonchalantly.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:16:11

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“That merchant’s new,” Awiti replied, not grasping the concept of the rhetorical question.

“Right…so, tell me,” the figure said, ignoring the subject of the strange Ogre merchant. “How is it that you see Caninelle when these other idiots can’t?”

Awiti blinked as they approached the city gates. The guards eyed the trio carefully, but they knocked the iron wrought gate open anyway and allowed them to pass. When the gate slammed shut, Awiti replied, “I really dunno. It just…I mean, she just caught my eye. This is the first time I’ve even seen a wolf like that!”

Caninelle barked. The figure chuckled as if he was the only one who understood a well told joke that had just occurred, and Awiti looked at him with confusion. “Let me tell you something,” the figure said. “What you see here…it says something about you. I wonder...just how different ARE you from the rest of those brutes?”

Awiti scratched his head in confusion. “I know that I’m not as stupid as the rest of the Ogres I train with,” he replied. “I also know that I have a talent for moving fast where the rest can’t.”

“That’s good,” the figure replied as they began descending a slope leading towards the forests outside Gu’Tanoth. It looked at Caninelle as the trio walked, and after they had reached the foot of the slope, the figure added, “Look, I won’t beat around the bush. I mean, look at you.”

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:17:01 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:17:28 by A Mad Hatter

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“What about me?” Awiti asked, genuinely confused. Of course, he knew he was well groomed compared to the other Ogres. His red-brown hair wasn’t unkempt by any means, though it was still dirty compared to the more civilized folk. Nor were his natural tusks too prominent, a byproduct of his efforts to blunt them which came from a simple disdain for the cuts which occurred on his lips whenever they accidentally scraped a little too close to his jaws. In fact, even his clothes, plain brown as they were, were well kept compared to the other Ogres.

“Well, you’re obviously something more than the others,” the figure replied. “Otherwise you’d be acting like a complete idiot like they do!”

Awiti averted his gaze to the ground as they came to the edge of the forest and stopped. He hadn’t realized how slowly they were walking, which surprised him given how absorbed he was by the conversation. He honestly hadn’t thought about his differences too much, and was somewhat disturbed at the idea that they might mean he’s something more. Something…Gu’rgaj. Other. The idea just did*’t make sense to him, considering he had been a warrior for as long as he could remember!

Sensing his unease, the figure knelt down to meet Awiti’s gaze. The young Ogre hadn’t realized just how tall the figure really was in person, but it did*’t matter to him anyway. As far as he was concerned, the stranger would be gone from his life shortly anyway, and it would be back to the usual for him.

“Listen carefully,” the figure said. “That merchant I’ve bartered with today…he’s not a good man.”

Awiti looked up to meet the darkness residing within the figure’s hood. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:17:53

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“I say this because I care, strangely enough,” the figure said. “You see, that merchant…well, what he possesses somehow involves you. Don’t ask how I know, because I can** say for fear of violating Hecate’s Oath.”

“Hecate?” Awiti asked.

“The Witch Queen,” the figure confirmed. “Unfortunately, the Dark Lady has…designs…involving everyone in this world. Even you.”

“What do I have to do with the merchant though?” Awiti asked. He was growing more and more confused by the moment, and it started to make him nervous.

The figure chuckled. “I haven’t seen the vision, so I don’t know,” it replied. “But I do know this: in two days he’ll be leaving Gu’Tanoth. During that time, the honor guard will choose you to be part of the warrior unit which will escort him to this very spot. Once that happens…well, you’ll see.* The figure drew to its full height, and turned to enter the woods.

“Wait!” Awiti called to the cloaked figure. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” the figure replied as it began to disappear among the trees. “I think you should know…the fate that awaits you? It can be averted. All you have to do is make a choice.”

Caninelle only gave Awiti one last look, and barked as she too began to disappear into the woods. Awiti could only wonder in confusion about what had just transpired, but he knew one thing for certain: out of all his years as a warrior in service to Gu’Tanoth’s Shamans, he had never been afraid of uncertainty until now.

*^+^*

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:18:27

Dec

2005

A Mad Hatter

Forum Moderator Posts: 9,861 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Awiti was barely sleeping before the summons came two days later. At first he had thought it was another wakeup call for more surprise training courtesy of one of the Shamans, but the hushed tone of the messenger told him volumes more than the poking of a crude wooden staff in his side did that morning.

“Git up,” he heard the messenger say. “Dem Shamans say you needed.”

Grumbling, Awiti barely acknowledged the messenger, who was merely an Ogre even younger than he dressed in a small burlap sack that seemed too big for his figure. Like all young Ogres, the messenger’s features were more toad-like than anything, and his tusks were mere nubs which had yet to even grow out of his gummy mouth which was oddly absent of all but a few teeth.

“Where am I to go?” Awiti asked.

The messenger shrugged. “Dey say…merk…marr…”

“The marketplace?” he finished. The messenger nodded happily and began hobbling towards the cave entrance in a manner that was almost as graceful as a three-legged cat. Almost.

Awiti didn't bother gathering his belongings. He was already in a suit of chainmail which fit him nicely enough, and he didn't need a helmet due to his quick reflexes with a sword which was sheathed at his hip in a scabbard that was nearly falling apart as it is.

The Ogre warrior managed to work his way out of the cave to meet a face full of predawn breeze. The cold seemed fitting once he saw the sun peaking over the horizon before it was swallowed greedily by dark clouds, and for some reason he was reminded of the grave.

^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

09-Jan-2012 02:18:53 - Last edited on 09-Jan-2012 02:19:38 by A Mad Hatter

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