March to Talabheim

First topic message reminder :

The Old World is a dangerous place to live in. Humanity is always threatened, from all sides. Everywhere one goes, he or she faces horrors unknown, from bandits, to the Undead, and even Daemons. There are even legends of a race of vicious Rat-Men, called Skaven, who live in underground tunnels all throughout the world.

The Empire is the largest nation of Men. It is ruled by the Emperor, who is elected, and rules unto death. The current Emperor is a valiant and noble man, named Karl Franz. The Empire is divided into several provinces, each ruled by an Elector Count, who, in the even of the emperor's death, become candidates for his successor. This is a nation which is ruled by religion. There is a god for every aspect of existence, such as Morr, the god of the Dead, Ulric, the god of Winter, War, and Wolves, or Sigmar, the first Emperor, and patron god of the Empire.

Even within the Emperor's borders, humans are not the only people to exist. Elves live in the forests, and Dwarfs in the mountains, both of which maintain good, or at least tolerant, relations with the Humans. There are others, such as the Vampire Counts of Silvania, or the Beastmen of Drakwald Forest, which threaten the very existence of humanity.

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We are all part of a caravan, travelling towards the city of Talabheim. You may be a warrior, priest, or simple peasant folk. Human, Elf, or Dwarf. It doesn't matter. What matters is why are you in this caravan, what do you expect to find in the city we make our way to? Are you running from something? Or someone? Will you tell others, or keep your secrets? It's up to you.

The technology level in this setting is akin to the Renaissance era, particularly Germany. So basic firearms exist, but they are expensive and typically reserved for the military. Swords and other weapons are much more common. Magic also exists, for those who are trained to wield it. A human can only learn to control one of the Winds of Magic, such as Fire, Alchemy, Shadow, Death, Life or Light.

Here is a map of the Empire (click it to view the entire thing). Talabheim, our destination, is on the western border of Talabecland, in the center of the Empire.

Spoiler:

Banather - Konrad Falkenheim, Warrior Priest of Sigmar
Mercy - Arabel, Gypsy
Allen - Tarell Diederich, Rogue/Assassin
Skye - Nadya Purrum, Gypsy
Capri - Felixa Cassius, Tilean Noble?
Murdoch - Varkash, Disguised Chaos Sorcerer

Current time/conditions: Dusk, with a few clouds and a slight breeze. It's early summer.

Luc raises an eyebrow slightly as the girl resists his smile, and gives her a look that suggests that he will certainly try harder in future. She looks like a challenge, and he's always up for a difficult task.
He glances at the newly arrived girl, hood up. Has she got something to hide, then? Probably; everyone has something to hide, be it physical or mental, everyone has scars.

"They are near; about half a mile or so. From what I can see, there are a lot of them, so they will be slower to move than a small number would be, and they don't know you're here...yet. I say we capitalise on that advantage before we lose it."

It was time to make her presence known. Stepping out from behind the shadows of the forest, Felixa walked forward to the gathering green eyes careful and dark hair gleaming under the sun.
"My, my. What a group. Mind if I make it even?" She said, thick Tilean accent rolling thickly off of her tounge. There was a slight smirk on her dark red lips as she strolled forward, sunkissed legs appearing from the slit on the side of her white dress.

This was her way of doing things lately. Acting like someone she was really not to get what she needed. Her personal kind of facade.

Aymarr looked at the girl with the hood.

'We should dispose of the bodies, then move. A well coordinated attack could take out one, maybe two Chaos warriors, but we stand no chance against a mob.'

The new girl in the dress entered his vision.

'And who might you be my lady?'

The man trying to flirt with me gives me a smug smile and I raise an eyebrow slightly; I turn to the other heavily armoured man and nod slightly, agreeing with his statement.

I quickly wrap the bodies in Shadows and mumble a few words under my breath, quickly spreading my hands across the bodies and each disappear one by one.

My feet move quickly back to the caravan and I quickly pull out my red velvet sack, undoing the drawstring quickly and grabbing a small bag of powder. Sweeping it around, and ontop of the caravan, I chant under my breath, putting a protection spell around it.

I turn to the rest of the crew, "Let's get a move on." I say hastily, putting the hood up on my cape.

As she watched the gypsy move about, Felixa turned her attention back to the man that had spoken.

"Felixa Cassius," she answered, straightening her stance out of habit. "And you are?" she asked in a polite voice, rolling her 'r's.

'Aymarr Leonardo, Knight of Bretonnia at your service' He tried to sound polite, for he was supposed to be polite when greeting foreign people.

'What brings you down the road, I am afraid it is not as safe as it seems.'

Luc sighs audibly, pushing between the new girl- he doesn't much care who or what she is, or what she's doing here; not now, at least- and he doesn't much care for the Knight either. That massive armour will just slow them down.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but maybe we could talk about this when we don't have a Chaos Warband breathing down our necks? They won't exactly wait for us to get acquainted with one another, will they?" He strides past them, towards the caravan, where the other girl is busy preparing some sort of protection spell. He can sense that it contains not a small amount of power, but he doubts it will be of use.

"I wouldn't bloody bother, love," he says as he climbs up onto the side of the caravan, staff at his side. He pushes back his hat to wipe some sweat off of his forehead from the run and the fight, then readjusts it. "They would have needed a Sorcerer to finish that Priest off as decisively as they did, and any Sorcerer able to destroy a Warrior Priest of Sigmar with as much ease as it seems they did it with could probably smash through whatever enchantments you have time to prepare in this short time span. We should just get moving and hope that speed is enough."


ooc:

El Jordo, back me up; a Chaos Sorcerer would be able to destroy most other wizards, let alone a Sorcerer of Tzeentch, am I right?

OOC: Murdoch is right on that point. Think of it this way;
A regular mage has enough power to fry your brain with a slight twitch of his/her finger. A Chaos Sorcerer just shrugs that sort of power off like it was a bug bite. A Sorcerer of Chaos is increadibly powerfull, Even if we were all mages he would probably outclass all of us. Now if its a Sorcerer of Tzeench, he has all the powers of the regular mage, AND hes backed up by the deamonic powers of the GOD OF MAGIC.
The only realistic way our group could pick one off is if we took him up close (If we could even get close) and even then it would be a challenge.

BIC: Aymarr knew the man was right, they didn't want to waste time with greetings, especially with Chaos on their tail.
'Of Coarse, we should get moving...'

He walks over to the Caravan and sits on the side. He finds a small space that is unoccupied and begins taking off his armour and storing it in the caravan where theres room. He soon just has raggy clothing on.

'This armour will just slow us down, but i would not be welcomed into my Knight-hood if i were to misplace it.'
Aymarr looks around, he was on high alert. The thought of a Chaos Sorcerer sent chills down his spine. He beared witness to the Unatural power of chaos, and he would rather avoid it a second time.
'Lets head out'

ooc:

Oh God yeah; remember that a Sorcerer of Chaos is basically a Warrior of Chaos who knows magic. They are extremely good with their weapons, and considering that they carry magic staffs that have, more often than not, a sharp blade on it, they are hardly helpless in close-combat. The staff is basically a quarterstaff, which outclasses most other close combat weapons...so yeah. If you see one? Run. A Warrior Priest stands a much better chance than most, but it would still be a challenge. Sorcerers are less prone to the side effects of magic (madness, backfiring magic, horrific deaths at the hands of demons from where they ripped a hole in the fabric of the universe, etc) than other wizards.

Felixa supressed rolling her eyes, and turned to walk back to the caravan. She hopped into the car and leaned against the wooden wall, expecting everyone with catious eyes.

Luc nods his agreement as the Knight clambers up nearby. He yells at the driver to hurry up and get moving, which he does, albeit with some shouted insults; Luc ignores them as the wagons begin to rumble down the road.

"So, Ser Fancy-pants," he says to the Knight, "How long have you been Ser Fancy-pants instead of just Fancy-pants?"

I laugh, swiping my cape off the ground and settling on the top of the caravan, crossing my legs lightly, "Let's get a move on. I shall cover the tracks as we proceed."

Hastily, I cover the caravan in a protection spell, not wanting to waste anymore time.

I could feel the fire of the magic soaring through my veins, but I was tired and run down. I tried to call upon some ancient spirits to help, slowly closing my eyes, and breathing deeply, muttering latin under my breath.

ooc: Surely a big splotch of darkness is more conspicuous, and the Sorcerer would be able to detect the magic being used, so actually your cloak of shadow has the opposite effect to that intended; it draws attention rather than evades...lol.

Aymarr looks over at the man sitting near him.

"I am not a, 'Sir' Fancy Pants yet... I am an aspiring hopeful to become a 'Sir' Fancy pants. I am simply serving the holy lady, nothing more and nothing less. The names Aymarr by the way"

ooc - not if you stay in the shadows of the trees

ooc: A big moving splotch of shadows would still be conspicuous, and the sorcerer would be able to detect the usage of magic XD

ooc - *sigh* If you are willing to argue that m uch I shall fix the post

I'm not arguing, I am merely pointing out a possible flaw...sorry if I came across in the wrong way...

ooc - haha its alright

Nadya followed the others, jumping onto the caravan and sitting against the wall. She looked across to the girl, watching as her eyes surveyed everyone. Nadya followed the girls eyes to the man in the corner, taking off his armor. She bit the inside of her lip to stop a giggle from escaping at 'Sir-Fancy-Pants.'
Nadya slipped her legs over the back of the caravan as she listened closely to the conversations of the others. Her eyes darted over the caravan before she looked to the other gypsy. The corners of her blood red lips curled up slightly at the sight of her magic in jealousy. The gypsy was free to use magic in front of the Priest. Nadya, however, must be careful to use fire. The man could have her neck over it.

My eyes slide over to the other gypsy and smirk lightly. A fire bender.. I could feel the heat from the fire inside her... I lightly giggle as the spirits around me begin chattering.

Luc shakes his head slightly. "You know, I never understood you Brettonnians. Your entire government is based around a lady who lives at the bottom of a lake and hands out swords....there is something fundamentally wrong with that, I think. But hey, who am I to question other cultures? I'm sure Ser Fancy Pants country would never do that." His voice only has a little sarcasm in it as he says that; they do exactly that, believing that they are better than everyone else. He's not from The Empire or Brettonia, but he can still know a lot about their culture. Stupid tin-headed knights commanding the common folk to die for rights and privileges that they don't get to enjoy. Disgusting. Say what you will about the tribes to the north, but at least they are fighting for something they may well get one day, and they are all respected in their clans. No poverty in the clans, that's for certain.

"Oh, will you stop acting all high and mighty?" Felixa's head shot over to the man who had spoken again as her words sounded through the car. And she controlled her voice, keeping the venom out of it. But her expression showed that she was becoming irritated. He seemed smug. And she didn't like it.

With her green eyes and stance neutral, she sighed and looked back to the gypsies conversing.

My eyes flicker open and the spirits around me scowl at the woman who had just spoken. I watch her posture, the way she walked, talked, kept her distance as if she was better then any of us.

"Like you're any better." I hiss angrily.

"I don't believe that's what I was implying." she replied calmly with a raised eyebrow, "You've read me wrong." Felixa lowered her eyebrow. Sticking up for him are we?, she thought to herself.