Michael’s Comments (group member since Nov 24, 2008)

Michael’s comments from the More RPG! group.

"if you stay, you will be killed. even if i do go against the orders, nay, the magical compulsion, to kill you, one of his other servants will." he sheathed his sword. "please, run, before my master shows up. if he finds us here, he will kill us both!"

"this rather complicates things" he said coldly. "you have made things very difficult for me. my master ordered me to kill whoever it may be who intruded into his territory." he looked grim at this "i don't want to hurt you. leave."

inglades woke in his room, the predawn light filtering through the windows. he rose and dressed, putting on his sword. he had the military support he would need, and the men of solamnia were looking to him to lead them. he shook his head hopelessly. we would lead them if he had to.

grayndon stood stunned. he recognized the figure in front of him. "erica..." he gasped.

grayndon heard the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves, and knew that his target was near. he nocked an arrow, drawing back his great bow. his cloak wrapped around him like a shroud, obscuring him from view. he saw the shape of an arm from behind a tree, and took careful aim. his arrow soared in to the tree with a sharp cracking noise, pinning the form to the tree by her sleeve. he drew his red blade, stalking in.

days later,(aka the present) grayndon stalked down the trail, bent low, searching for the tracks he knew were near. he had changed. he had learned things, perhaps he had been safer not knowing. but his newfound power had easily made up for the correspondingly devastating moral fall. he saw the tracks, uttering the minor spell he had been taught, seeing the footprints glow with a faint light. they were from a pair of boots, soft and supple. of elvish make, he imagined. they were shallow, suggesting either that the ground was fairly dry at the time when they were made, or that the person making them was lightly armored. he followed the tracks, moving swiftly. he would be upon the intruder by nightfall. (erica can come in...)

((sort of... jordan, you're the orc now.)) grayndon walked the silent streets of the city, wearing his dark leather armor, with a blood red blade buckled to his belt. his dark cloak fluttered around him, clinging to him, wrapping around him like a shroud. his black ash bow was held in a dark gauntlet.

(was I?)

inglades, growing tired of waiting for sindelian's magic to take effect, walked out in to the night air, moving towards the guest quarters.

(the way the story is working, i bet you won't, lol. where is your character?) inglades sheathed his dagger, leaning against the wall.

(no, we were a long time ago, but now we're raising an army against it)

(is anyone else going to lead the story for a while?)

grayndon woke up in a small dark room. the walls and floor were made of hewn stone, and the ceiling was some sort of stone, but it was as though it had been liquid, in a wave, frozen in one instant. as he became more aware of his surroundings, he notices that his hands were bound. in the far corner of the room, stood a tall figure, his crimson scaled wings wrapped around it's body like a cloak. the demon walked over to him.

inglades grinned. "question him."

"i think he's too much of a threat to live, but he might still have information we need."

(bye) "you mean the huge whitecap, about fifty miles south of waymeet?" the orc nodded "and why is there only a lone orc here? your kind is not known for courage." the orc snarled, and said nothing. inglades considered for a moment. the orc was more of a liability than an asset.

"under big southern mountain"

"where is this messenger you keep speaking about?" inglades demanded, angry for his fear. "he live in the underworld." the orc said, his dull mind unable to come up with something more precise.

"we should discuss this inside." inglades said, leading the orc prisoner inside.

"or the demon." inglades said in concern. "his body seems nearly immune to harm, but because attacks stop short of him, not because of the strength of his scales. a dragon seems likely"