FinalHavenLarp.com

Atrum makes a wide flank, as silently as possible, assuring that he gets to the other side of the voice. Sneaking forward, then, he can make out through the brush a short, hooded man, who now speaks to Rhul.

"Speak to you? I have no wish to speak to you. It was you who wished to speak to me."

Rhul nods a bit to the man in deference to his statement.

"Mhhmmm... you have a good point. But you must admit, it's not every day I double back on my tracks, and arrive just in time to hear someone be killed and have what might be their killer dash off into the woods, now is it?

It's definitely something that piques a man's interest, to be sure. So I thought I'd follow you and investigate why what might be a man I met earlier today had to die out here in the middle of the wilderness?

Did you have a hand it it? ....Or might know who did? Because the trail I was following led me directly to here, and you.

*Atrum moved the dagger in his hand a hairs breadth to the right and tilted it ever so slightly, making sure the dark liquid faintly pulsing like blood from it didn't drip on the dry, recently uncovered brush between his feet. Listening to and seeing details that some let go unnoticed. Trying to discern whether it was the voice, the stature, or something else that was tickling the back of his mind. The feeling tugged at old memories, the image of an ever growing beetle and a tiny black box with a greasy substance in it. The Warlord's shaman felt somewhat like that, a buzzing just above the base of the...

Fool!

Good, the diminutive cloaked figure was still talking to Rhul, although Atrum was positive that even though the cloaked figure had not made note of him yet he knew he was there. Atrum had come to know that tingle all too well over the last 1/3 of his life. He had it all along really. Even as a youngster when Aphony would lie in wait and ambush him. He would let her tag him and run off most of the time, giving chase, feeling the wind rush past his hands and face. Always people, other people in his head. He and Aphony had been close enough that when she lost her beautifully lilting voice he heard whispers of her thoughts. The Shaman and the Warlord, digging into his brain and stealing what they wanted to know. And Vaun'ithily'in who with a mere touch had flooded his mind and hers with everything they both were.

But this wasn't the dull buzzing of someone in his head, it was that tingling that told him something simply was not right, and it hit him like a club to the face. There was absolutely no way that the cloaked figure in front of him had delivered that crushing blow to the dead dark elf they came upon on the trail. Not unless he had been standing on a rock or somehow hurled a heavy object at face level to the taller elf. The angle of the crushed nose was all wrong for someone so short to have broken and it lay flush like a swines. Atrum let all thought drain from him. The flicker of a white flame rose before his eyes and he floated on the currents of the wind. The conversation between Rhul and the cloaked figure drifted and skittered across and around the flame. His focus was on what else was there, and how best to deal with them when they made themselves apparent. He wondered if Rhul had come to the same conclusion about the blow and whether he held his focus on what may be there and not what was sloppily handed to him. He could only crouch in silence...waiting...

(Edited: I didn't realize Mike was away, and my post rambled too much anyway, and felt a little too much like metagaming to me. So take my above post as the last thing I said.)

"I may have had a hand in it, and I mayknow who did. As for why he had to die...perhaps I or we or it are simply looking after your best interests. Perhaps the dead one was not obeying the commands of his leader. Perhaps that concerns me...or we or it. Perhaps you've simply come across a friend in the woods."

He pauses, and Atrum can see him cock his head to one side for a moment. Then he continues, "Or perhaps there is no way that I could have killed anyone, and I am merely fleeing from that which you seek. The truth is always so difficult to know."

*Rhul cocks an eyebrow, both at the vagueness of the man's words, and the fact that he seemingly makes nothing of someone of his bestial features, which surely must be uncommon even in the current time.*


Hmmm, yes, difficult.... Well, if you are indeed a friend, might I trouble you for your name? I am called Rhul, for which I have no surname to add to, unfortunately.

As for my best interests, if someone has them in mind, I would surely wish to hear what they are, for it seems I would be the one for whom it would be the most important to know, so that I could choose whether or not to avoid that which might be my worst interests.

The man laughs. "I'm tired of you," he says. He then drinks a potion and runs away very fast...

*Moves to intercept*

The man moves with great speed and sure foot through uneven terrain, but his initial advantage fades over time, and he slows. Atrum begins gaining on his target...

(will pause for Rhul's action)

(Sorry, I've been sick all weekend)

The strange man drinks the potion, and bolts into the woods. Cursing, Rhul turns and gives chase with Atrum.

"We...should....take him... alive!" he pants as they leap over undergrowth and fallen logs.

Ahead the man begins to lose speed, even stumbling a bit, and it's difficult not to wonder if he is simply going to give up the fight, though that feeling quickly gives way to where the trap must be. A quick scan of the area reveals no ambush. A quick glance ahead reveals no avenue for the man to escape. Knowing that his only choice is to submit or fight, remembering the elf with the bashed head, both prepare for a sudden, unexpected attack, and, just as expected, it comes, when the man wheels and, with a flick of a small wand that had gone unnoticed, a burst of green energy envelopes Atrum and Rhul (Magic Sleep), after which, having apparently spent its last charges, the wand turns to dust.

*Atrum knows better than to expect anyone that runs initially to just surrender later, and I can only assume that it's a lash magic sleep or it couldn't take both of us which also means we are within 5 feet so...*

The moment the figure slowed to turn, Atrum launched himself into the air as the quarry turned towards them. Apparently having lost some concentration while thinking of old memories, the wand somehow surprised him and as it erupted with a flash of green Atrum squeezed himself into a ball and turned to stone in midair, landing heavily and tumbling towards the wand wielder.

*Atrum will turn back to flesh as soon as he either strikes the figure or rolls past him and be on him as quick as possible with a dagger oozing black liquid*

(just to clarify, there were two distinct shots with the wand, not a lash attack. The above still works as an action, however.)

OOG: Aah ok, the way it's written made it seem like 1 green blast envelops both at one time, which made me think it was a lash magic sleep.

As the magic bolt envelopes Atrum, it also strikes Rhul, and overpowering him in an instant, his eyes roll back into his head as he is rendered senseless in midstride.

Still carrying the speed of the madcap chase, his knees give way and his body collapses, rolling through the undergrowth until he comes to rest limply against the bole of a tree with a soft thud.