Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2008 5:20 am
"what's that?"
(This is what Abellio has heard of the name. Found at The Abbey & The Woods Around the Abbey)durden wrote::: The creature halts, rolling its shoulders back and straightening its spine to stand fully erect. It must be seven feet tall. A tense moment passes. Afraid to divert too much attention from your opponent, you quickly scan the area immediately around you for any signs of your staff or any sharp pointy thing. The snowstorm continues unabated, obscuring your vision. You look up quickly to see the creature's attention focused on the sheep for a moment. If it is observing your spoken word, it sure is taking its time.
Returning its gaze to you, the creature lowers its head, as if to nod...contrition? Taking a long step backwards before turning its back, the creature shuffles away without a sound. You search desperately for the fallen staff. You check several spots where the snow has been disturbed, but find nothing, looking up frequently to keep the thing in sight. There it is! The staff is cracked near the middle, where the creature caught it and ripped it from your grasp. It takes little effort for you to snap the weapon in half, exposing a splintered, pointy end just right for stabbing. You move to pursue your attacker and sheep stealer. Despite that awkward march, the creature remains far ahead of you. Just as quickly as it appeared, the creature vanishes from view, swallowed by the falling flurry. The sheep are quit. Only the wind howling in your ear and your own labored footsteps in the snow can be heard. You did it! You beat that thing and asserted your will upon it. Well, at least it seemed to listen. It doesn't matter, you still won. The snow lets up soon, though you are pelted briefly with light hail before the storm fully passes.
A soft voice in your head, perhaps just an errant thought, draws you from the hypnotic spell of the whitened landscape::
“Koban. Beware.”
:: Pero greats you several hours later, cursing the cold and holding his hands near his face ::
"Damned fool you must be for stayin out in this cold. Er, I uhm...thanks for watching the sheep. You d-d-don't even look cold. The good lord must have granted you a strength I am sorely lacking. H-How did it go?"
durden wrote:(Refresh my memory. I you have enhanced hearing, you'll glean a bit more. Otherwise you cannot make out much. Mostly bits from the louder spoken Berro like,)
"Mumble, mumble, trumpets are blowing! I have mumble mumble two, mumble. Eyes watching, mumble mumble. Koban, mumble mumble, tell Dominik....mumble."
"It is a name I heard from Brother Berro from behind closed doors."durden wrote::: Pollox snorts, almost derisively, when you mention 'Our Mother,' as though he is not fully willing to accept the concept just yet. 'Our,' it seems, does not include you and your kind. ::
"What luxury, brotherhood? Your kind may be wiser in their separation. As for the monks being of help, I think not. I have had a long relationship with Malachi. He and the others seem less than interested in the goings on of others. Only for their suffering. Enemies... they abound. My fellow knights are increasingly unpopular in the West. Though I do not see how any force of men could have penetrated our defenses and left little sign of their work. There are those of us that may easily walk through the shadows. the Wyrm comes in many forms. Vengeance is nothing to live for, and often less to die for. Besides, what can one old man do?
But of course we can continue these talks. We have nothing but time these days. But that name. Koban... I have heard it whispered in the wind. I do not know if it be person, place, or beast. I suspect your friends know. They likely know far more than they have let on. I would be careful. For all their preaching, they are still snakes. Snakes will always bite."
:: He waves you off when you are ready to leave, not leaving his fire ::
