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  #1  
Old Aug 20th, 2008, 02:50 PM
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Rock and Wind




Toar Amon seems to have been several concentric circles of defensive structures. Barely one stone is left atop another of these outer rings, though. The largest collection of standing ruins is in the center. You make your way there. Despite the broad daylight, you're uneasy. Is it that your senses are heightened, only three days away from the full moon?--No, it's not just nerves. It looks like you're not alone. Every so often you can glimpse other manlike figures, also making their way to the center of Toar Amon from different directions. They also seem aware of you, and wary, but not explicitly threatening.

You all arrive in the central mass at about the same time. Before you rises the hulk of what may have been a castle wall, and an arch which must have been part of something else. You're standing in a cleared spot, an old floor, paved with broad flagstones, but now overrun with weeds. You see a large standing stone in the center of this approximately 30' by 30' area, and next to it, a spiral stone staircase, not more than 5' wide, winds down into darkness.

On this standing stone are five figures painted in red. Four are generic four-legged beasts with fangs and claws. The fifth is also fanged and clawed, but bulkier and standing erect on its back legs. All figures have been defaced--gashed with marks from another stone.

The weakening autumn sun casts clear shadows. It's just past midday. The other men stand at the edges of the clear space, like you, keeping their distance. You hear only a few crows, far off in the distance. The wind whistles around the ruins, rising and falling with a thin, lost sound.
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Old Aug 21st, 2008, 12:38 AM
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A well muscled man stands in the open, he's just shy of six feet with a tanned complexion of a person who spends a great deal of time outdoors. He's got a wild beard, a few weeks growth, and it is in need of a trim. The beard is a dirty blond and it blends well into his messy medium length hair. He looks back and forth between the other strangers and then looks to the strange set of markings.

His cloths are as disheveled as his hair. He wears a road stained suit of padded armor that looks like it has seen it's share of duty, and you can see a faded design of a golden man on a field of blue. It doesn't look like it was necessarily designed to be used as the only form of armor, but it seems to have been modified to serve that purpose. It seems like it was designed to serve as a layer of armor between ones skin and a suit of some mailed armor. His boots are scuffed and worn, and look out of style for this area, perhaps more of a style associated with the colder climates of the north. The only item he seems to have is an exquisite quiver with a score of arrows strapped over his shoulder and hanging loosely from his back. That alone would be fine but it is strange as he doesn't have a bow.

"Hmmm... Toar Amon" he says aloud with a tinge of a northern accent. He moves to the standing stone with the five painted animals.

 
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Old Aug 21st, 2008, 02:49 AM
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With every two steps taken the man's, or rather, boy's staff clicked upon the stony ground. He was making an unconscious show of the crescent blade that lay inches over his head. "Late to the gathering I guess." The teenager looked very much the thief run out of town. Irritated, weary, and spiteful. He wore thick and tanned hides of animals as armor, his skin matched their light browns. Though likely not the one the gods smiled upon, he looked innocent enough.

A good look at the boy's eyes shattered such perceptions. Dark rings well formed under uncaring white encircling a deep, sharp, brown. For all the complex emotions this person may incite in others to him it all melts, shifts, and solidifies into apathy.

"Hm, Toar Amon. Name's Sylin. If this is a set up, can I just nap a bit?" Sylin's jaw about unhinged from his face as he let out a sighing yawn. "You can chalk it up to 'Last Wish' if you'd like, or somethin'."

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Old Aug 21st, 2008, 11:53 AM
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"Jörgen's the name." the man says with a nod to Sylin. He looks at the other three and then adds with an edge of exhaustion in his voice "If this is a trap, can we get this over with soon?"
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Old Aug 21st, 2008, 01:56 PM
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Name's Preston Says the tall ruddy skinned man. His raven hair hangs loosely to his shoulders, and his piercing gaze takes in all of the men surrounding Toar Amon. I set no traps, though it seems we all suspect the others of some ill doing. Preston's dark cloak hangs over his thin frame, though the hilt of some sort of sword can be seen belted on his hip. It is odd that we would all find ourselves here at the same time. Under his cloak the clothes that he wears are all black, even the metal in his belt buckle is dull and unpolished.

Preston stands with an air of confidence, shadowed with just a slight stoop, as if the burden he bears is too much for him. It is clear from his demeanor that he is not exactly afraid, though wary or perhaps ill at ease would fit his mood better.

The only thing that seems to be unusual about Preston is the ring on his finger. It is polished to a high gleam, and glints brightly in the sunlight. It seems out of place on one so wrapped in shadow.
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Old Aug 21st, 2008, 05:04 PM
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The scuff of cloth shoes dragged over soil and the clatter of displaced pebbles are the only sounds that announce the arrival of this traveler. This one is quite young, his bowed face partially concealed by a huge mop of shaggy black hair. He seems to have eyes only for the ground, placing one foot before the other as he trudges onward toward the place where the others have met and begun to talk. He radiates weariness from the frayed hems of his poor shirt to the torn wrappings of his cloth shoes. When he walks, he barely lifts his feet, shuffling forward with the sort of dogged determination that only the truly tired can achieve. He leans forward as he pushes himself onward, occasionally stumbling over loose stones. This boy gives the impression of someone slowly and continuously falling forward.


He stops at the edge of the circle, and wide brown eyes peer out through the thick hair, gleaming with cautious curiosity. The boy stoops and leans forward with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily as he silently watches the others, listening to their words before the wind scatters the sounds. He seems quite poor indeed, in patched clothes held together by thin thread and an equally threadbare sack over his shoulder, tied into place with rope. The only item he carries that is in any sort of serviceable state is a sturdy-looking shortbow slung over one shoulder. He stands to his full height, not exactly an impressive sight, and stares at the others again. Judging by the way he keeps glancing over his shoulder, he seems to be trying to decide whether to walk forward and meet the others or to run away.
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Old Aug 22nd, 2008, 05:51 PM
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Sylin snorted in a failed attempt to chuckle. "Well, if we three all believe we fell into a trap and that guy," He tipped his head into the direction of the disheveled looking man, "Is the assassin..."

The boy set loose the phlegm he had pulled from his snout. "No, no I don't think there's much to worry about."
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Old Aug 22nd, 2008, 11:30 PM
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A low growl issues from behind one of the larger standing stones making up the outer ring of the dolmen. A hairy ham-fist pokes from the other side of the rock and a great lummox of a man rolls into view, the growl turning out to be a yawn. Bleary-eyed, he looks at the motley gathering, trying in vain to decide whether he's still dreaming. Then another growl resounds -- not from his mouth. Rising, he puts his hand over his huge belly in embarrassment. "Whoops. Guess I'm awake. Usually eat pretty good in my dreams," he mumbles.

Slowly he lumbers over to the group -- the man is well over six feet in height, coarse black hair popping out of his thick neck and arms. He carries a long tree branch from which hangs a ratty satchel. His sweat-stained white shirt, clumsily re-sewn many times over, is adorned with green piece of fabric that might once have passed for a tie. A pair of glasses -- with no lenses -- slide down his nose. "I was looking for a place called Torn Armor, er... Tori Amos, no... what was it again?" He scratches his scalp trying to remember, and a fall of dandruff rains down upon the skinny leaning kid standing close by.

Then he snaps thick fingers. "Toar Amon! That's it! Some gypsy told me it was this way, but I forgot to ask what it looked like. You know of it? Names Roy by the way. Roy Oxford." He extends his meaty hand to shake around the group -- it was the polite thing to do. Besides, he was a businessman, and these looked like some educated folk. "I sell books, by the way, if ever you were in need of buying one."
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Old Aug 24th, 2008, 01:31 PM
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"Jörgen" the somewhat tall man says to the small giant. "What is it in Toar Amon that you are looking for."

He pauses as he looks between the others. "In fact what brings the rest of you to this ruin, and this spot in particular?"

Jörgen looks again at Roy and then down to the rock he was inspecting, in particular the fifth figure he saw... The biggest one that was standing more erect than the other four.
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Old Aug 24th, 2008, 02:58 PM
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Roy leans on the big stick and nods at Jörgen. "A pleasure. As to what brings me here," he pauses, as though not sure what he should say. He was never the cautious type though. "Had a dream some time back. Mind you, I don't put no stock in dreams and hocus-pocusy stuff, but it was the kind of thing that kept eating at me -- in a manner of speaking. Something wanted me to come here. So finally I says: 'Roy, just go and see for yourself.'"

His stomach grumbles again and he places a hand on his giant belly. "Those good-for-nothing gypsies wouldn't even spare a crust of bread after I told them about the dream. Just packed up their things and took off in the other direction!" He shrugs, "Anyway, here I am. How 'bout you?"

It's then the man notices the carven animal shapes and a frown crosses his features.
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Old Aug 25th, 2008, 08:00 AM
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Jörgen looks at Roy and then the others. "What a strange group we are. Is this a vagrant convention? Man I need a shave and a hot bath. Hell a good COOKED meal to boot."

The blond man clears his throat unsure of what to say. He looks the group over again and then speaks "Well I didn't run into any gypsies, but I did have a dream. The dream ended with the moon going from full to nothing, and then a voice whispering through the forest, repeating the words Toar Amon.

He let's that settle in, shrugs and adds. "I took it as a sign from Uller, god of the hunt. I asked around and was told of these ruins in the south. I've been traveling for a long time to get here."
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Old Aug 25th, 2008, 09:39 AM
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Preston looks around at all present, some of the suspicion leaving his face as he does so. If we've all had much the same dream, I wonder if we're all....

I have also had a similar dream, since we're sharing. Three of five isn't everybody, you other fellas had a dream too? Preston turns toward the two men that haven't answered yet.
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Old Aug 25th, 2008, 10:44 AM
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Jörgen raises an eyebrow as Preston reveals he had a dream too. Jörgen turns his head to look at Sylin and the boy waiting for their responses. "... Maybe they are inflicted too.... Can I... Can I trust them..."
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Old Aug 25th, 2008, 10:56 AM
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"I had the dream too," the boy admits, stepping cautiously forward. "And I'm - I'm Ulric," he adds quickly, seeing as the others are all giving their names. He advances into the circle and notices the carvings that Roy is staring at. He cocks his head to one side, wondering at all the strange coincidences. Then more pressing needs assert themselves. "Do . . . do any of you have something to eat? I haven't eaten in a while, I'm afraid . . ." he sits down on the ground, exhausted for the moment.
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Old Aug 25th, 2008, 12:36 PM
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Jörgen turns his head and looks to Sylin, the last to speak up about receiving a dream. "He'll probably say he had a dream regardless if he did or not. He's not going to want to stand out." He turns back and looks to Ulric.

"I'm afraid not. I haven't had a good meal in days. I've been sustaining myself with water, nuts and berries." Jörgen says with a frown on his face. "I've been drawn here and didn't put much time into it."
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