ewancummins wrote:
Looking about, Cirdan spots a man leading a roan draught horse down one of the side streets, just a short distance away. Storming towards the animal, his plate armour clanking and sparks flying from his armored boots striking the cobblestones, he quickly closes the gap. The man leading the horse jumps back in alarm as the knight vaults onto the animal's back and rides away!
I think I stole that momentum from a movie I saw some time ago. Any idea which one it was?
Cirdan will race after the kidnappers, at all cost.
The leather case lies on the ground near Bennedict. It has popped open, spilling a part of its contents onto the lawn: illustrated cards of some kind.
"Do not be concerned, Frau, I am certain Sir Cirdan will recover her. Rest now, and do not try to talk." Bennedict tries to cradle the servant's head before setting it down gently to the floor. I feel sorry for the poor bastards who took her if the half-elf does catch them. he thinks, as he turns to regard the bag. His eyes narrowing in suspicion, he reaches forward and dumps the contents out onto the ground.
Norzak looks at Charlotte, relieved she's ok. Seeing as Cirdan ran after the fleeing men and he doesn't have a chance to catch them, he waits for Benn to inspect the papers he's dumped out. "So, Benn, what do ye make of them papers?" He asks as he moves closer to have a look with the huge man.
The leather case lies on the ground near Bennedict. It has popped open, spilling a part of its contents onto the lawn: illustrated cards of some kind.
"Do not be concerned, Frau, I am certain Sir Cirdan will recover her. Rest now, and do not try to talk." Bennedict tries to cradle the servant's head before setting it down gently to the floor. I feel sorry for the poor bastards who took her if the half-elf does catch them. he thinks, as he turns to regard the bag. His eyes narrowing in suspicion, he reaches forward and dumps the contents out onto the ground.
Out of the small case tumble a stack of painted cards. The backs of the cards are plain fileds of blue and the faces are variously illustrated with numbered sets of stars, daggers, banners, and crowns. The detail work is quite good, and the style seems vaguely exotic. A close look reveals notice finely inked miniscule arabesque traceries along the facing margins.
Charlotte smiles weakly at Benn, then drifts off to sleep.
Denys Sancerre hobbles over, rubbing his head. ''Where is Evangeline! I tried to stop them...sweet Ezra, did they take her, then?''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
ewancummins wrote:
Looking about, Cirdan spots a man leading a roan draught horse down one of the side streets, just a short distance away. Storming towards the animal, his plate armour clanking and sparks flying from his armored boots striking the cobblestones, he quickly closes the gap. The man leading the horse jumps back in alarm as the knight vaults onto the animal's back and rides away!
I think I stole that momentum from a movie I saw some time ago. Any idea which one it was?
Cirdan will race after the kidnappers, at all cost.
Cirdan is riding hard in the direction he thinks the villains have gone, but hasn't caught sight of them yet. He can hear the clatter of hooves down the street, maybe around the next turn...
[OOC, I need Spot, Listen, and Riding checks ,please]
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Despite the lack of a saddle or stirrups , Cirdan is able to manage the horse well enough, getting the big animal to move down the street at a trot while he searches and listens for some sign of the kidnappers.
The neighborhood into which the knight has ridden is a quiet place of forlorn boulevards, desolate mansions, overgrown parks, and vine shrouded statuary. Here, there are no people to be seen, only birds nesting in abandoned houses, stray cats prowling in the alleyways, and a pack of dozen or so feral dogs feasting on the the remains of a sheep- now just bloody meat and tatters of white wool.
Horse and armored rider make plenty of noise, but even so, Cirdan ought to be able to hear the sound of his quarry riding along. He cannot hear them, though. Has he lost the trail of his unseen quarry? Was he even riding in the right direction from the beginning of his wild pursuit?
Looking about for some indication of human activity, the knight spots a humanoid shape- a furtive figure that darts into an alleyway across the street to his left. It's not far away, perhaps fifty paces.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Out of the small case tumble a stack of painted cards. The backs of the cards are plain fileds of blue and the faces are variously illustrated with numbered sets of stars, daggers, banners, and crowns. The detail work is quite good, and the style seems vaguely exotic. A close look reveals notice finely inked miniscule arabesque traceries along the facing margins.
Charlotte smiles weakly at Benn, then drifts off to sleep.
Denys Sancerre hobbles over, rubbing his head. ''Where is Evangeline! I tried to stop them...sweet Ezra, did they take her, then?''
"It appears so, Herr Sancerre. Sir Cirdan is in pursuit as we speak." He speaks in distracted tones, the majority of his thought process already bent to deciphering the meaning of this new addition to the puzzle. Benn reaches forward with an index finger, gently pushing aside the cards, fanning them out to allow for a better examination of the individual artwork. He was familiar with the Vistani cards, the Tarokka, and looks for any of the major identifiable cards, like the Darklord or Death. He assumes that, given their current situation, chances are good they will be close to hand to provide even more ominous portents to their already grim situation.
Out of the small case tumble a stack of painted cards. The backs of the cards are plain fileds of blue and the faces are variously illustrated with numbered sets of stars, daggers, banners, and crowns. The detail work is quite good, and the style seems vaguely exotic. A close look reveals notice finely inked miniscule arabesque traceries along the facing margins.
Charlotte smiles weakly at Benn, then drifts off to sleep.
Denys Sancerre hobbles over, rubbing his head. ''Where is Evangeline! I tried to stop them...sweet Ezra, did they take her, then?''
"It appears so, Herr Sancerre. Sir Cirdan is in pursuit as we speak." He speaks in distracted tones, the majority of his thought process already bent to deciphering the meaning of this new addition to the puzzle. Benn reaches forward with an index finger, gently pushing aside the cards, fanning them out to allow for a better examination of the individual artwork. He was familiar with the Vistani cards, the Tarokka, and looks for any of the major identifiable cards, like the Darklord or Death. He assumes that, given their current situation, chances are good they will be close to hand to provide even more ominous portents to their already grim situation.
These cards aren't Tarokka cards, Benn is pretty sure of that. None of the major identifiable characters are present.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Benn may have seen similiar cards somehwere before. Hard to place it though....
Some of the cards have numbers or letters painted on them, in addition to the images. Benn recognizes the script as Vaasi.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
ewancummins wrote: Looking about for some indication of human activity, the knight spots a humanoid shape- a furtive figure that darts into an alleyway across the street to his left. It's not far away, perhaps fifty paces.
Cirdan will quietly draw his sword and ready his shield, then spur his horse towards the alleyway. If the persons there do anything even remotely suspsicious, he will simply ride them down.
ewancummins wrote: Looking about for some indication of human activity, the knight spots a humanoid shape- a furtive figure that darts into an alleyway across the street to his left. It's not far away, perhaps fifty paces.
Cirdan will quietly draw his sword and ready his shield, then spur his horse towards the alleyway. If the persons there do anything even remotely suspsicious, he will simply ride them down.
The horse covers the intervening ground quickly, bringing Cirdan to the mouth of the alley.
Inside the alley, is a man clothed in ragged robes, perched atop a mound of rubble and refuse. He has a wild look about him, with a long scraggly beard, tangled hair, and intense blue eyes.
''Hello.''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
The man could easily hop onto the other side of the big mound and flee down the alley into the street on the far side, but he does not do so. He just sits and watches Cirdan.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Rafael wrote:Cirdan feels a bit perplexed, and lowers his sword a tiny bit.
"Hey, old man, have you seen a group of armoured riders carrying a young girl with them?"
''Yes, I have.''
The old man cocks his head and smiles, revealing a beautiful smile with gleaming white teeth and no gaps.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
''They weren't all wearing armor, just two of the six. The girl had red hair. Those are the folks you're looking for?''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
