The sound of many heavy footfalls echoed through the trees. The air was thick with the scent of horses and armored men. There was something else there, too... "Jupiter of the Spiritwood..." a growl came from the back of his skull. Richard's eyes ached and blood vessels swelled as he strained to watch the caravan make its way south along the road towards Trinsic. Black ichor foamed from a depressed cavity in his throat as he spoke aloud to himself. "What do you want with them?" he asked. The voice only responded with a snarl. Something wet and hot trickled down his back; another boil rubbed against the inside of the unpadded leather tunic and burst. An anvil and hammer pounded behind his eyes as Baerron Jael urged Richard onward. "What... do... you... want...?" Richard growled through chipped and broken teeth, cracked and blackened lips. The voice assaulted his mind. "They have nothing that we want. This is about you, not them. You must embrace our unity for with it not even death can stop you." The daemon was frustrated with Richard's attempts of resistance. He coughed hard and repeatedly until a small portion of rotting lung spat into his hand among the black fluid. A red veil descended over his eyes and he felt his body move towards the caravan. A bright flash of white and yellow light stunned him. He tried to open his eyes but they were fused closed with dried and coagulated blood. With much effort he forced them to crack open and the red hell was gone. Richard became acutely aware of the state of his body. It was rotten, decayed, and broken, and he felt every inch of it. Who were these people? A man clad in grey robes, a man clad in white robes, and a man wearing black and purple watched Richard with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. His insides gurgled and black ichor lurched from his mouth, painting the ground a dark muddy hue. He tried to make sense of where he was and what was going on, and then the voice emerged from behind his mind. "Your weak body died, but it did not stop you... don't you see? Our unification makes you so much more than you can be alone." Richard shook his head trying to clear the voice but he felt a painful surge press outward from within his head. It felt as if his skull would tear itself apart. Richard gave a garbled warning, all that he could muster, and the strangers quickly fled. His bones shifted and rotated independent of thought and the natural way of things. His ligaments twisted around the bone heads, stretching and pulling apart. With what strength and will he had left to him, Richard wandered up the road away from the group that he encountered. Baerron Jael was re-asserting himself, gaining control once more over Richard's desiccated form. The crimson hand wrapped its hand around Richard's mind and squeezed. "It was not for nothing, for you know death cannot stop you, but we did not leave empty handed..." the voice of Baerron Jael thrummed in his ears. Richard was carrying a torso void of head and limbs belonging to one of the caravan guards. Richard's conscious mind faded to the background. "This will do just fine for our purposes..." the voice chuckled. "But there is still so much more that we need."
Jael.. *winces at the mark left on him* .. He.. it?.. almost looked human after he fell.. although I cannot say if it is any longer a man.. all I can say is that it.. is a worthy opponent. With whatever his sacrifices are pertaining to .. the spiritwood will have to muster all the steel it can in the days to come. Stay vigilant Edgard... *winces in pain once more*
You know, I was initially going to comment on the rather unsporting way in which you got me, which, at the time, struck me as rather poor form. Then I read through this thread... Wow! This is as good as I've ever seen RP forum writing done, and I love the blood filter on the screenshots. You may now be assured that if I see your name in a thread, I'll definitely be reading it. Until we meet again, mate. -Cullinarn
I wasn't specifically going for you @Cullinarn. In fact, I didn't even mean to run into the caravan at all, and when I did, I tried to avoid it twice. I mentioned this to Jupiter but I tend to roam the countryside looking for people (traveling the roads between Britain and Trinsic and the big loop that goes from Skara to Yew to Minoc to Vesper to Britian) instead of doing the atypical PK dungeon circuit (though I do keep an eye out in deceit and lower level of covetous from time to time...). Since I had a run in already recently, when I saw Dun Scaith and Edgard (I didn't see all the hired guards and other folk yet) I backtracked and went another direction... only to run into Jupiter I think and a group of hired people. Backtrack again to go around, ended up running into the caravan again. I will always give a warning and do some interaction before I fight. I do not think you were present when I gave the warning though. Me targeting you in the battle was more random than calculated as I just used the target nearest innocent hotkey and I think it was you. To you and all others who I have fought or killed, please do not take it personally or get angry over it. I will always try to RP (unless I get attacked first which happens at times) first and foremost. If I do kill you, I will not loot you (save for Ragar's candle last night, which has RP connotations) but I might steal your body parts for... schemes... I also mentioned to Jupiter that if you are in the midsts of an event that you would prefer not be interrupted or interfered with, you can tell me to bugger off OOC and I will, no problem.
I know, mate. Once I had time to think about it, and based on the time you got me on the last caravan (i.e. you left everything on my corpse, including some rather valuable things I had forgotten to bank, and my forest ostard alive), I figured you didn't know/think about the fact that, in dispelling the daemon as I was commanded by the caravan leader, I lost my reflect, a few hit points, and the last of my mana (I had only just summoned him). Just for the record: I have no doubt you are a good deal better at battle than I, based on the time you got me on the last caravan. I wasn't so much frustrated at dying as I was by the context, and I was likely still a bit more irritable than usual from having the flu last week. It wasn't your issue, my good Baerron; it was mine. Thank you for taking the time to explain though; and my apologies if I made you feel like you had to. As for your abilities as a roleplayer, which was the reason for my post, I can only say "Bravo!" I really admire and respect how you remain in character, even during combat, and your posts on the forum are some of the best I've seen on this, or any other shard. -Cullinarn
This caravan event was very fun! I am glad that there are still UO players that enjoy RP. That is the play style I enjoyed the most
Frivilous fun is the best kind of fun in UO, and the more time I fritter away on fun that doesn't involve any monetary or material reward, the more I find myself enjoying the game. These caravans are exciting and unpredictable; at the last one, a snowball fight broke out at the end. And, honestly, we owe Baerron and all the others who provide a real sense of danger, a debt of gratitude. -Cullinarn
Glad to see this matter amicably resolved regarding the OOC matters. Granted, Jupiter bears a bit of the burden since I was not aware Cullinarn didn't know, or due to lingering affects of illness, forgot how to dismiss a daemon (i have to admit I chuckled a bit when the An Ort failed and he aggroed). I suspect, dear Cullinarn that you were still impared by the cloudy mind of a lingering illness. I often make split second decisions during encounters, and seeing how we were 3.5 v 1 I thought it more honorable that we should only fling spells of a lesser power. the troublesome part is that the mechanism of communication in UO is so terribly slow that by the time spells did start flying, my good sir you had already fallen and I was unable to explain my reason for having u stand down the demon. Now, I ramble on too much and distract from this utterly intriguing tale. I must say to date, this Baerron fellow has capitalized exceptionally well and in good form. We shall see Jupiter's side of this encounter soon *draws curtain*
Consider yourselves lucky this demon did not take you all that night, several of you are destined to die as agitators. There will be no quarter. Keep an eye out over your shoulder, you never know who will come for you.
Aye. He has, that. Truly he is a worthy foe, and one who has been as interesting as he is deadly. For the record, though, Jupiter: From now on, my daemons go where I go. I have been surrounded by an army of them since that night, and I dare not dismiss or dispel them. They were frustrated that their brother was cast back into their realm before his time, and have been popping out of the aether in protest! Truly I fear that if this continues, they shall rend the veil between dimensions and usher in an era of great evil in Britannia... -Cullinarn
A shadow looms over the Spiritwood; Brigands move more brazen, and plunder along the roads. Fiends venture closer to the sapphire pond than ever before. Amidst all of this, Jupiter meant to use all of this to his advantage. There is no better way to face an adversary, than to use it’s own frightening power against it. *************************************************************************** “Dun Scaith!,” Jupiter called out, “wrap up your writings and make sure your documentaries are secured. We have a mission to carry out.” Dun looked up from the desk, weary from writing, but not so weary that he yearned to stop. Yet he knew that resisting the wizard’s clarion call was nothing if next to futile. “What have you planned for us this evening?” He inquired. Although he was already committed to lending what assistance he could, it would still be nice he thought to at least have an idea of the wizard’s plan. “I mean to test just how keen our enemies’ eyes. It is almost uncanny how oft’ this Baerron has intercepted us. I will soon have to move the animating essence we recovered out of Paws, but I dare not do it until I know the extent of our adversary’s abilities.” “So you mean to organize a caravan with naught be regular mercantile wares, so as to set up a ruse?,” Dun guessed. “Precisely! Now quickly help me load up the ponies with the gold we’ve recovered from our patrols along the road. Twenty thousand pieces should be enough to draw the attention. Then we shall head to Ocllo, and under pretense of a free caravan we shall acquire some regular mercantile wares.” Dun and Jupiter made quick time to Ocllo, and had no problems finding a merchant in need of the caravan. Edgard Swifthand, stumbled out of the tailor shop, carrying three heavy bolts under his arm and if not for his other arm loaded with another bolt, it seems he would have given the shop owner a hand gesture to express his frustration. “Sir,” Dun greeted the man and lifted a few of the bolts of cloth in assistance, “what seems to be the matter? ” “These, merchants, they pay me half as much as my robes are worth, and then say they cannot buy any more while listing my wares for three times as much as I sold them!” Jupiter smiled. They could not have happened upon a more ideal situation. “M’lord Swifthand, my name is Jupiter of Paws, and my companion here is Dun Scaith. It seems you have wares in need of a caravan, and we’ve a caravan in need of wares. I know we have only just met, but by the virtues our meeting is most fortunate. If you will allow us to carry your wares, we can get you to the city of Trinsic where I am most certain there will be many more tailors willing to buy your fine wares.” Edgard agreed to the assistance, but Jupiter felt for the moment it was best to keep him unaware of the true nature of the caravan; to draw out the evil Baerron and to test how to best convey the essence out of Paws and to safety. ******************************************************************************* The road from the Britain moongate, south past the bridge seemed almost so completely uneventful, that Jupiter began to think that perhaps he had overestimated the Baerron. The group made camp in the clearing, where Cullinarn of the House Oor’Tael joined them and offered his aquatic guards. It was then that Dun picked up the trail, and he alerted Jupiter. “It’s the Baerron, he’s found us.” “The who?”, Edgard tried his best to mask his concern. “It is the man I hoped we should not encounter. I am very sorry Edgard, but I fear we have drawn you into a conflict that you may not want to be part of. You need not endanger your life for us strangers, I bid you take the horses, and their gold, and return to the safety of Ocllo.” Edgard shook his head calmly, he gulped a bit of the goats milk Jupiter had given him in Paws and felt the fear subside and replaced it with courage, “Nay, I shall accompany you to Trinsic as per our arrangement. If peril confronts us, I know a few bits of self defensive spells and I know how to throw a right cross.” Jupiter doused the campfires and swiftly rolled up the bags. “Very well, we press on to Trinsic and we make no further stops. If we are lucky we make it to the Trinsic wall before the Baerron knows we’ve caught his scent.” “And if we are not lucky?” Cullinarn asked the question all were wondering. “If we are not lucky my friend, then by the virtues, they will write tales of our battle!” ***************************************************************** The Baerron’s twisted visage appeared in the road between the caravan and the Golden walls of Trinsic. “Grey wizard,” his very flesh spattled from is lips as he spoke, “your caravans do not escape my notice. I see all your comings and goings, and what you have is mine. GIVE ME WHAT IS MINE!” The battle was swift, and fierce, but Jupiter was not distracted this time, and the Baerron fell, but did not perish. However, he did not fall before he had managed to lay a fatal blow to Cullinarn and Edgard. After the Baerron fell, the group recovered their fallen and rushed to confront the Baerron before he could recover. Looking upon Baerron, he looked almost human again, in his weakened state. In hopes to question him while he was in his right mind, Jupiter quickly set to mending his wounds. No sooner than he was recovered, than his body began contorting again. With a shrill cry followed by a shriek of pain, the Baerron fled from the caravan and into the dark cover of the forest, leaving the group with only more questions. ****************************************************************************** Thinking it unwise to remain on the road, they hastened the horses – all accounted for – to the city gates. Once safely inside, and with the wares secured in the bank, they celebrated with ale and laughter.
*winces in pain* Not just the caravan.. the village is no longer safe.. I grow paler by the eve now with wounds that don't seem to be healing with normal means.. Two scars from two fiends marked on my chest.. Not even prayers to the sapphire maiden herself prevented their last 'message' to Jupiter.. His very own tower does not even seem to sway their assaults.. A new face rode with Jael.. there was another rider.. Soth.. Ragar arrived shortly after and assisted me to the Healers hut south of the tower, he fought bravely.. but alas.. he fell.. *coughs - and returns to his book in the barracks* . . . . . Even the damned torches here seem too bright for my eyes. . . . . *snuffs the lanterns out*
Report to Catalin Incident Date: 11/15/2017 (Paws Secret Calendar Time) Incident Summary: Whispers of trouble in the Spiritwood have inspired me to get back into fighting form. Having not been in the field lately I knew what I needed was a quick patrol of the road. I was on my way to light a candle and go when a fellow I hadn't met before stumbled towards the shrine. His name was Dun Scaith and is likely known to you as he is a Freeman of Paws. Dun Scaith looked very pale. I'd never seen him before so I was initially unsure how ill he actually was. He was feeling quite badly and required assistance to the Healers Hut (also new to me, have I slept so long?). I fetched a fresh horse from the stables for him as he didn't look up for a walk of any distance. We arrived and I began to seek details of what was going on when we heard horsemen outside. Jael and Lord Soth arrived only a moment after we did. I suspect they have the Village under surveillance, but cannot confirm that. Lord Soth challenged me to single combat. Toe to toe. No retreat. I must report he was formidable and I was unprepared for more than the usual orc and lizard man resistance that evening. I was defeated. Actions resulting from the encounter: I intend to step up patrols and increase preparedness. These 'men' seemed to be unnatural and if they cannot be slain I intend to at least drive them from the Spiritwood. Also, when is that new healer about? I'm experiencing some lingering pain in my shoulder that bandages do not seem to be helping with. Ragar Truesword Freeman of Paws
The crushing strike of a hammer felt as if it shattered Richard's skull from the inside. "You learned that death cannot stop you, but now they must learn that their actions have repercussions." Baerron Jael hissed in his mind. "Lord Soth will deliver this lesson to them." Richard looked at Lord Soth. The daemon Baerron Jael was a constant meltingly-hot fire in his head, but Lord Soth was as cold as the harshest winter. He was an imposing figure clad in black armor with a thick metal helmet to cover his visage. Two small red orbs stared out from the small visor slit. Richard knew nothing of where Lord Soth came from, only that the daemon wanted him to come to this world. A blinding red spike shot through his left eye. It felt as if it was crushed beneath a rock. It was time to visit Paws. The Freeman known to Richard as Dun Scaith was within the tower of Paws. This was one of the group that had brought him down. Dun Scaith fled to the sanctuary of the shrine of Spirituality, only to find that the virtues hold no sway over Richard or Lord Soth. He then fled to the perceived safety of the tower. He was sealed within alone with Lord Soth. The tower would be his tomb. The daemon smelled a presence on the wind blowing through the Spiritwood. He had not encountered this person before, but had strong ties to Paws and to the wizard Jupiter. He might not have been one of those who had struck Richard down, but he would receive Soth's lesson as well. The man of Paws fought tooth and nail against Lord Soth but ultimately succumbed to his wounds. The sword arm of Ragar Truesword. The daemon grinned his wicked, jagged grin in Richard's mind which tore into his thoughts. "This... will prove very useful..."
