Post by Flaccus Hellfire on Jan 2, 2008 4:02:35 GMT
[OOC: Continued from the story in "Flaccus Hellfire"]
Back in Krynn...
Flaccus Hellfire was at the head of his mini-platoon of troops. He had not found the source of this weird Mist, and was deep inside...atleast, he thought so. He hadn't moved far into it and it was like a extremly heavy fog. It seemed to swallow him and his troops. Looking around, he stopped dead in his tracks. His men were gone. No traces, no sounds, nothing. He hissed a word and a blade appeared (See the picture in "Flaccus Hellfire" or the avatar) in his hand. Grapsing it tightly, and preparing for battle, he kept walking forward...
In Wolfenden...
...Flaccus stood on a path, confused. He looked at himself and he saw his own green blood on his armor, and the blood of other creatures, some red, some purple, some black. He had no idea how he got these wounds and what battle he had been in. He lost focus and opened his hand. The blade dropped to the floor and vanished, seemingly in a werid haze of darkness. Falling face first into the ground, he gasped for air. He vaguely remembered a castle...gargoyals...The Mist, bring everywhere...then he nearly passed out. Flaccus was still concious, but to tired and weak to move.
[OOC: And Flaccus' journy through Wolfenden begins...]
*Flaccus' stomach ached, a feeling he dreaded. Judging from the intensity of the ache, he hadn't eaten in days. Even with a Draconian's naturally slow metabolism, he was starving. Flaccus forces himself to stand and took a few weak steps, and then fell to a knee, using his clawed hands to brace himself upon the floor. His wounds didn't feel to severe, but he figured he should clean them before they get infected. Flaccus was to much of an expert to die of anything but combat.*
"I'll be damned if I, a mighty Sivak in service of The Queen, were to die of infection..."
*Flaccus looked around and noticed that The Mist had left, and he was in the middle of nowhere. He had traveled all around Ansalon, and he had no idea where he was. Looking upward for the Three Moons Krynn had, his jaw dropped when he only saw a single white moon. Flaccus shook his head Must be that rotten ale I drank before I left... and stood. Making staggering steps, he walked forward, not knowing or caring where he went, as long as it was safe, had food, and a place where he could clean his wounds and equipment.
[OOC: Flaccus' wounds range from bites, claws, scratches, slashes, bruised scails (erm..don't know if Draconians bruise when hit with blunt objects...), etc. Nothing too serious. His armor needs mending, but still retains it's stength.]
Back in Krynn...
Flaccus Hellfire was at the head of his mini-platoon of troops. He had not found the source of this weird Mist, and was deep inside...atleast, he thought so. He hadn't moved far into it and it was like a extremly heavy fog. It seemed to swallow him and his troops. Looking around, he stopped dead in his tracks. His men were gone. No traces, no sounds, nothing. He hissed a word and a blade appeared (See the picture in "Flaccus Hellfire" or the avatar) in his hand. Grapsing it tightly, and preparing for battle, he kept walking forward...
In Wolfenden...
...Flaccus stood on a path, confused. He looked at himself and he saw his own green blood on his armor, and the blood of other creatures, some red, some purple, some black. He had no idea how he got these wounds and what battle he had been in. He lost focus and opened his hand. The blade dropped to the floor and vanished, seemingly in a werid haze of darkness. Falling face first into the ground, he gasped for air. He vaguely remembered a castle...gargoyals...The Mist, bring everywhere...then he nearly passed out. Flaccus was still concious, but to tired and weak to move.
[OOC: And Flaccus' journy through Wolfenden begins...]
*Flaccus' stomach ached, a feeling he dreaded. Judging from the intensity of the ache, he hadn't eaten in days. Even with a Draconian's naturally slow metabolism, he was starving. Flaccus forces himself to stand and took a few weak steps, and then fell to a knee, using his clawed hands to brace himself upon the floor. His wounds didn't feel to severe, but he figured he should clean them before they get infected. Flaccus was to much of an expert to die of anything but combat.*
"I'll be damned if I, a mighty Sivak in service of The Queen, were to die of infection..."
*Flaccus looked around and noticed that The Mist had left, and he was in the middle of nowhere. He had traveled all around Ansalon, and he had no idea where he was. Looking upward for the Three Moons Krynn had, his jaw dropped when he only saw a single white moon. Flaccus shook his head Must be that rotten ale I drank before I left... and stood. Making staggering steps, he walked forward, not knowing or caring where he went, as long as it was safe, had food, and a place where he could clean his wounds and equipment.
[OOC: Flaccus' wounds range from bites, claws, scratches, slashes, bruised scails (erm..don't know if Draconians bruise when hit with blunt objects...), etc. Nothing too serious. His armor needs mending, but still retains it's stength.]