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 The Hunt for Zim Narul (INCA) 
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Stablehand

Joined: Sun Nov 10, 2002 8:30 pm
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The sun was shining brightly overhead as they finally emerged from the darkness.

The company numbered four now. The Hunter lead them, his uncanny skills finding the path that Yb had marked. The torch bearer, a member of Sergeant Null's elite flying corps, came behind. It seemed that, despite his earlier battle cries and the fact that he was obviously intelligent, the creature could not speak; so the group had taken to calling him Wings, for lack of a better name, during their rare, hushed conversations below. Brin Stonehammer, the stout dwarf, had met them in the darkness following the spider attack, and with him had brought the Armengarian soldier, Garyn Tallbrook.

The remainder of the journey through the tunnels had been marked by silent, tension-filled moments of waiting while unseen monsters scraped past in the darkness, and headlong flights through the treacherous environment when they had been discovered. Whether by incredible luck or by some higher intervention, all four had survived to see daylight once more.

And here they stood, just outside the mouth of the small cave that served as the network's entry, their eyes squinting furiously in the face of the sudden, incredible brightness of the sun above.

The Hunter was quite sure that he had never experienced a more beautiful pain.

After many moments of this, he took a glance back at the shadows of the cave and spoke.

"I mislike the look of that cave. In fact, I wish never to see an underground passage ever again. Let us move from this place and make camp."

Although he wasn't sure about Brin and Garyn, he and Wings hadn't seen sleep in what he had judged to be the better part of a week. The incredibly resilient Wings seemed as sturdy as ever, but The Hunter found his own stamina to be completely drained. Another day within the shadows would surely have seen him make the fatal mistake.

No disagreement was voiced, and the weary company stumbled up the slope to a nearby rock formation that looked to offer a defensible place for some rest.

_________________
Silent as a shadow, deadly as a dirk.


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Last edited by The Hunter on Wed Jan 08, 2003 9:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Mon Jan 06, 2003 7:57 am
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Stablehand

Joined: Sun Nov 10, 2002 8:30 pm
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The Hunter's eyes snapped open at the feel of a boot nudging his shoulder. Groggily, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. It wasn't until then that he remembered where he was, and reached frantically for his weapons, cursing heavily his failure in falling into such a deep sleep. He counted himself lucky to be alive after such a breakdown.

No enemy stood over him, however, so The Hunter quickly relaxed. Instead, the giant form of Wings blocked out the sky above. The creature wasn't looking at him, but was rather staring down the slope, back towards the cave's exit.

The Hunter stood, and followed the other's line of sight. Climbing up the mountainside were three figures - Lt. Briggs and the two soldiers that had disappeared with him back in the darkness of the tunnels. The Hunter turned to rouse Brin Stonekeep but, to his credit, the dwarf was already awake and clutching his axe. That one is a cannier warrior than his blustery demeanor might indicate, The Hunter thought. Garyn Tallbrook lay further back, still wrapped in his cloak.

Turning his attention back to the three approaching figures, The Hunter couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled about him. There was something wrong here... And then, as they came closer, The Hunter knew.

Their steps were shambling and robotic. Their arms did not move as they walked, but rather hung lifeless at their sides. Most of all, their eyes watched neither the trail, nor looked up to where the company waited, but simply stared directly into the rock ahead. These men were dead.

Instantly, The Hunter had a small dagger in his hand, the blade clutched between his thumb and first finger. He let it fly, and the blade flew straight and true, burying itself in Briggs' face, snapping back his head. Amazingly, the undead soldier did not fall, but merely stopped walking momentarily. Then, sickeningly, the neck twisted forward, and Briggs' head snapped back into place, the dagger imbedded just below his left eye. He continued his advance, the other two shambling along beside him.

The Hunter shouted for Garyn to awake as he drew his slender swords.

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Silent as a shadow, deadly as a dirk.


An alt brought to you by Creaser


Wed Jan 08, 2003 6:30 pm
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Stablehand

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
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The sun had fallen below the line of mountain peaks by the time they encountered the walls. The black granite barrier seemed to appear from nowheres, as if growing from the shadows that now laid across the valley floor. The walls weren't particularly intimidating, a mere dozen feet tall in most places - poor in comparison to Armengar's towering 300 foot battlements - but then, it did not seem as if many armies would make the effort at reaching this forlorn place to scale them. The stone showed signs of great age, riddled by gouges formed by centuries of rain and wind. Signs of crumbling were apparent in places, but the majority of the structure seemed solid.

Yb and his tired party were not up to climbing to even such a meager height, so they set off, trudging along the wall, searching for a gate. None presented itself, but they hadn't gone terribly far before they found a way through the wall. A stout tower, one of the few buildings of more than a couple of stories that Yb could see from outside the city, had collapsed, it's bulk striking the wall as it fell, knocking it outwards. The result was a gaping hole that, although it involved climbing across a large pile of debris, offered access to the city of Nazarath.

Calling it a city was not quite the correct idea, Yb thought to himself. From where he was standing, all he could see was a narrow alley that stretched away from him, lined by building after building constructed from black granite, none of them more than two stories tall. There was no ornamentation, no diversity, nothing that resembelled a modern city in any way. It seemed more like an immense collection of army barracks than a place where citizens might live.

The wind moaned weakly, its noise the only sound to break the pervading silence. Finally, Yb spoke.

"We'll camp here for the night."

Complete darkness would be only moments in arriving, and Yb Amaaryn had no desire to spend a night within those walls.

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A simple scribe and that is all.
Well, maybe the best scribe.

An alt brought to you by Creaser


Thu Feb 06, 2003 6:19 pm
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Stablehand
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Joined: Sat Nov 16, 2002 11:34 pm
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Hearing the Hunter's alarm, Garyn scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sword. He nearly fell back over with the effort, completely exhausted from the ordeal of the past few days. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to rest peacefully again. Then, he saw the reason for the Hunter's cries, with the zombified Armengar troops marching straight towards them, one with a dagger in his head. Garyn swore, damn glad he chose to stay with the dwarf. A fate like that would guarantee that he wouldn't even get to rest again in death. Grimly, he lifted his blade and joined the side of Brin and Hunter, glancing around to see if Wings was alright. Down to four, they couldn't afford to lose a single man. Or demon.

The shambling corpses grew near, too close for comfort. Garyn watched Brin charge forward, angry at them for disturbing his rest and letting them know just how upset he was with the swings of his axe and sounds of his voice. The soldier hoped that Brin's noisemaking didn't draw anything else from nearby. Running foward, Garyn joined his friend, hacking at the creatures with his claymore.

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Garyn Tallbrook
Sergeant of the Armengar Infantry, Third Class


Thu Feb 06, 2003 6:32 pm
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