Whispers

[RaiRai]

"Strange how the winds have that silver shimmer across the mount. I'd sit there, day after endless day, watching the whispers and whirls about the purple heathers. Watching the frantic dance in which the cherry blossoms would act as they fell from their branches, across the tall grasses and over the edge toward the sea. It was beautiful..." Iishka rubbed her forehead with her right hand, silver jewellery sparkling in the light of the storm overhead. The thunder cracked, sending echoes through the intertwining caves of the clifftop. The lightning split across the blackened skies, forking in what seemed like a thousand directions before dying and then sprouting elsewhere. Raising her umbrella over her wet head, Iishka looked down to the small cat at her feet. Looking more like a drenched rat, the poor little critter just sat there, little green eyes staring up as if wishing to go home.

"All in good time." Iishka said, patting the creature on the head, the large bell around its neck jingling as he purred happily. With a slight sigh, Iishka looked along the sodden trail, watching the water wind down and puddle in places. The storms had come and gone for the past few months, but never had the beautiful spring weather she remembered so fondly returned. Clutching her satchel at her chest, her painted fingers rubbed against the small lock that held away all of her secrets. All that she had left from the place she had called home. And within the hour she'd be gone. With the dawn awakening, she'd be far away from the mountains and the smouldering village down that path. She'd be across the ocean and far, far away...

---

The previous Whispers thread is locked. If you wish to take information from there to start within this re-play, you may. NO OCC COMMENTS WELCOME. Also, do NOT move the story along too fast and make sure you involve your fellow players, don't just move along and keep them hanging. I'd like to see detailed posts and descriptive narrative. Setting is fantasy. Thankyou.

[Stover]

No matter how familiar the road looked, Kane was quite sure that he had never been here. At least, he hoped that he hadn't been here, because that would mean that he had gone in a huge circle, and that's usually not good. Especially with this rain. Goddamn rain. Sometimes Kane wished he could just go up to God (or the gods, depending on where he was), and tell him or her to fricken cool it and stop being so temperamental. Then Kane realized that if he ever did such a thing, he'd likely be ejected from this world, shuffled off this mortal coil most quickly. Oh well. Wishes were just wishes after all.

But that didn't stop Kane from wishing that Ben wasn't so damn lazy. Damned horse. Just because it was raining, he had decided to go back into his little home in Kane's ring. So now, Kane was left alone with his thoughts as he wandered down this muddy road.

Goddamn rain. It was looked like it was going through his hat. He'd had the damn thing so long that he wouldn't be surprised. At least the druids had made his clothing and backpack waterproof. But that never stopped rain like this.

Goddamn rain.

Talos Buerner sighed and looked at the sky, the rain pelting his face and armor. He could already tell that he was seriously ill, possibly with fever from the rain and cold. The elf had been traveling for eight days now with no food and no rest. He looked farther down the road and saw a mysterious figure in the distance, and then his vison went fuzzy and he collapsed into the mud, unconcious.

[Kazastankas]

Kultharn glanced around him as he strode through the rain-spattered city, at the people who ran from the rain, towards their homes, their shelter. His cloak, damp, flew behind him despite the wright. His uncombed hair, the color of obsidian, sat beneath a brown hood as he strode with an aura of disdain on the emptying streets. His journeys of revenge have ended him in these outlandish places, where these storms and temperamental weathers continuously bashed upon the earth. Sighing, he sometimes thought why he went the way of the vagabond just for vengeance, but he hardened his resolve, as he had many times before. It was something unforgivable... and besides, he had nowhere to return to. He looked forward again, and continued to walk, now travelling on the road. His hands rested on the hilts of his mattock-blades. Bandits were rumored to be on this road, and the rain causing reduced visibility gave them quite a good environment to ambush in.

[RangerAidan]

Smoke piped up from the valley, fattening and disappearing as it rose, like all things that fall to the seducdive call of decadence and ease. It kept rising as the man moved swiftly through the trees, ever feeding on something, ever growing from the unknown fires of what? A burning field being readied for a fallow year? A village laid to waste? A really really big party?
puh
Aidan thought, an easy rain beginning to patter on the canopy above him, growing heavier with each passing step, heavy dampness hitting his nose.
First smoke was a day ago, and it's only worse now.
he mused, falling into a run as he realized with a growing uneasiness that the worst had happened. He deftly avoided patches of deeply purple forest flowers, hopping from gnarled root over muddy puddle and to increasingly rare solid footing. The sickly-sweet, damp scent of a new rain crept into the woods as steam rose around him, his brown boots taking little notice of the widening puddles and softening ground.

He passed up a path that took him farther up and out of the mountain's foothills, the trees growing a bit less dense, and an according scent of burning filling in the void from the otherwise unseen fires. Lightning flashing in the sky directly above him, he continued on his swift jog, the dirt path becoming rocky as the whispers of cloud and wind began whipping about the summit overhead. Rain, thunder, torrential lightning storms and downpours...heh, camping weather. The rain continued as smoke began curling in the growing wind shear, leveling off at the level of the fierce current of storm-driven air, just above the next rise...and billowing from a lost topwnship, a village consumed in what was a great and ruinous flame, now lowering into the dark and seedy crevices, under remaining arches from the rafters of the homes it had consumed, seeking refuge in its work, wishing it had not burned so greedily.
He snapped away and back to his path, a quicker way down, gotta go up first, though... and through the pass, tracing the sheer, cave-pocked cliffs that marked the closest boundary of the valley.

[Osterbaum]

Ahuru was his name. He had once been a peaceful man, but not anymore. He had once been a happy and a cheerfull man...But not anymore...Now he was, but a shadow of what he had used to be. Not cheerfull, not happy and above all not a peacefull man. The nights he slept with unease, having nightmares. His past haunted him and it would propably never let go. Not until Ahuru would let it to. One hwo would see him the first time, could say 'Now there's a peacefull man.' But he would be terribly wrong. Ahuru was filled with anger and rage. He didn't show it to anyone. Just kept it inside not talking to anyone. He sometimes cried, but never among others. One who would know all this would ask, why? He would not get an answer from Ahuru. The subject was too painfull for him. The once peacefull man now filled with anger, seekin his revenge. He once had a family...A little boy and a wife. There names he didn't dare to tell...not to anyone. His family had been murdered by those who he hated. A small group of bandits searching for something valuable...petty thieves had in just an instant become murderers and the target of Ahuru's revenge. Ahuru had sworn to him self he would not die or rest until he had his revenge...

Ahuru was walking in a forest. A forest unknown to him. He had heard that he might be able to find those he seeked in a village nearby. That was where he was headed. Suddenly it started raining. The rain...that was something he still loved. He loved the nature...he was one with the nature. A magician one might call him...a witch...But he did not see it like that. He thought of hime self simply as a 'Man of nature'.

The rain pouring down his face he started to cry. He cried and cried falling to the ground, dropping his staff. He stayed there...he didn't want to move. He just stayed still and cried...

[Stover]

Kane was still busy admiring the scenery. Even through the rain, he could see fairly far. Ever since his brief spat with that necromancer lord, and his encounter with the druids who fought the necromancer, his world seemed different. Nothing tangible, everything still looked the same, but for some reason, things were just different.

He continued to walk through the rain, looking around as he went, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He turned around. Somewhere in that foggy, rainy mess, something had fallen. A ghost, perhaps? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Kane to catch a glimpse of a ghost, seeing as how he had been dragged into the ethereal world for almost 3 hours (the druids were nice enough to pull him back). But this was no ghost. That left three options: a person, an animal, or...

Kane loosened his rapier in its scabbard, gave a wary glance around, and called out: “Greetings! Who is following me in this rain?”

[Osterbaum]

Ahuru got up. He looked atround still being able to see almost perfectly in the rain. He saw nothing more than trees and vegetation...some birds on the branches. That made him feel good...Nature in general made him feel good.

Ahuru started walking towards. He wasnt sure it was the right way he was going to anymore, but that didn't matter so much. As long as he kept going everything was ok.

He reatched a small forrest road and desided to follow it, cause it would have to lead somewhere.

[RaiRai]

The red umbrella quivered in the winds, which were slowly picking up, sending the waves crashing against the shore. The rocks crumbled beneath the might of the waters and Iishka watched in amazement as one of the cliffs completely fell, leaving a sheer edge. The rock sunk into the water, washing around with each coming wave. She stood from her wet seating place and turned around, the small bells on her necklace jangling together. Demmit paced around her feet purring lightly and nuzzling at her ankles.

"Perhaps he won't come...I'm sure he should be here by now..." she mused to herself, running her long fingernails over her delicate lips and bowing her head lightly. "The people in the village will come before long. We have to go now, Demmit. But I don't know where I'm going..."

It was then that the small boat on the shore caught her eye and she grinned. Walking slowly along the path, bag gripped under her arm, her gaze swept back a few times from the route she had came. It was then she noticed the man, his face in the mud and the rain washing down his skin. Her inital thought was to leave him. If she spent too much time on the hillside, she'd risk capture and then her hard work would have been for naught. But she looked to his face, eyes closed and skin so pale...

"Hello...Sir, are you...are you alright?"

[Kazastankas]

The rain fell with deadly repetitiveness - slowing, then becoming faster. Slowing, and becoming faster. Slowing, and becoming faster. It seemed to be almust a sort of rhythm of the gods, the torrent of water combeind with a wind to project a mournful symphony. Kultharn chuckled inwardly at his own 'views' at this, when he sensed a movement from the corner of his eye. A figure crouching down to meet another. Many actions, this movement could portray. Curious, he slinked into the trees to gain a better view of the fallen and the female.