|
Post by Thane on Oct 27, 2008 11:20:29 GMT -6
Thane is panting hard now trudging through the sand. His momentum is steady but it looks as it that first stone is not getting any closer.
Thane hauls himself onto the stone as his claws dig into the limestone and propel him swiftly to the top.
His muscles already ache as he spies the little demoness making for the Glass field with great haste.
"By Brimstone's anvil..." He grunts as he makes a mighty leap to the ridge rocks.
Hes slams onto the side as his claws dig into the sandstone. The great hound then runs to the crest and as fast as he can. He begins leaping and hurdling to catch up to the short legged but very quick Demonling.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Oct 30, 2008 10:19:15 GMT -6
Pascha is making great time for the glass field. Thane's plan of taking the ridge rocks is working, however, he must go faster to beat the demonling to the finish line.
Pascha can see Lysandor as she scuttles along the sands, the melted sands feel funny under her feet as she makes a b-line for the fallen.
Thane continues leaping and running along the sandstone on all fours to make up for lost time. He is gaining, the glass field shimmers in the low light and the scene is very beautiful.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Oct 30, 2008 10:28:42 GMT -6
Thane makes his last leap onto the closest set of rocks before the glass field of the meteor fall. He sails through the air and slams into the sand sending the spray into the air. The sands are firmer here and Thane is gaining momentum as it is not so hard to stay on top of the sands.
He is panting hard now his claws are sore from digging into the sandstone, and his muscles burn like the waters of the styx. He is making progress on Pasha though she is still just out of reach and they are nearly at the glass field.
The closer he gets the hardened sands become like compacted earth and now Thane has no trouble gaining on Pasha. He is right behind her and he is starting to pass her.
His tongue is trailing a stream of drool as the hound beats a rhythm of paw beats onto the earth. -pappety pap-pappety pap-pappety pap-pappety pap-pappety pap- He is so close, must go faster.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Oct 30, 2008 10:48:19 GMT -6
Pasha can hear the hound leap onto the earth behind her and she feels the sand pelt her from the spray of Thane's impact. She feels the ground trimmer under his weight slamming on the dunes. She is hit with panic and she uses her burst of speed to regain the lead. back and forth they struggle for the lead, the glass is getting sharper and the edge of the crater is within the few last agonizing steps.
Thane and Pasha look tired now and it is a test of wills to tell the winner as they both cross onto the glass edge.
Thane's weight is punching holes in the shelving field of thin glass and it is cutting his paws. Likewise the cracking glass is shifting causing Pasha to loose footing as she scrambles to remain calm as the thin glassy sands shift and buckle beneath her from the Hound serging like an ice breaker through an arctic ice shelf.
The glass gets thicker and Thane is not punching through anymore but his bloody paws are slowing him down. In a last bit of pride they hurl across the field edge by Lysandor and struggle to slow in the smooth surface. Panting and exhausted they collapse onto the glass to conserve what little strength they can and await Lysandor's verdict.
Clearly they have tied, unless Lysandor wishes to be factious and declare a winner, they have clearly crossed at the same time.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Nov 3, 2008 14:48:49 GMT -6
Thane sinks to his knees trying to catch his breath. He pants hard as he looks to Lysandor.
"Well? Did I win or what?
He says with a look of 'kill me now' written allover his exhausted doggy face.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 3, 2008 23:52:02 GMT -6
Lysandor had watched the race from his position, watched the struggle not only of sheer determination and will, but in an odd sense, the struggle to find out which could win - a Gabriel Rachet Elite, or a Demonling in her own element.
When they tie, Lysandor comes very, very close to smiling... but doesn't quite make the full transaction between stoicism and good humor. He looks between the two, and allows himself a brief moment to ponder the full weight of his decision.
"It is a tie," he finally says, after a moment's pause. "However, I do not think it would be unjust to allow Pascha to have a portion of the meteorite. She has a living to see to, which relies on the farming of such metels. Master Thane, do you not wish to merely give Lord Regent some of the star metel as an example of what might be found here?"
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Nov 4, 2008 10:16:46 GMT -6
Pacha smiles at Lysandor, "I knew my instinct on you was on the money Lysie, Always the gentleman and good sport." She says out of breath but jovial.
"Boy your mutt buddy don't know when to quit. I knew I could cream his corn. Still he shows up outta nowhere and nearly took my race. Are you sure he wasn't cheating?"
She nods to Lysandor as she stands and brushes off her clothes.
The meteor is still too hot and difficult to approach just yet for her. She ponders how to get it out and she looks to the others.
"I suppose you have a plan to retrieve it? I left my tongs at the camp since fluffy here was so eager to leave."
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Nov 4, 2008 10:32:54 GMT -6
Thane nods to Lysandors comments of his intent.
"Indeed, she did provide good sport, I doubt Lord Regent would wish me to deprive his subjects of earned spoils..."
Thane stands slowly looking at Pasha like the hound is going to eat her for her comments.
"Clearly you know little of my kind save all the unpleasant ways we feed on demonlings and those foolish enough to cross us." Thane growls.
He stands and walks over to the hot metal deeply embedded into the glass face of the sands. First Thane tears away bits of the glass with his sore claws. It hurts a bit however his blood is also hot and softens the glass blocking the meteor from easily being plucked out of the hole it burrowed for itself.
He reaches into he hole and grabs the hot metal and with some wiggling and yanking it comes free of the encasement. He holds the searing stone as it steams harmlessly in his large paws.
"It helps to be a fire elemental... being impervious to flame has it's clear advantages." He says looking lovingly at the glowing stone in his paws.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 9, 2008 1:45:48 GMT -6
Lysandor chooses to stay out of Thane and Pacsha's verbal sparring match. He watches the hound pick up the meteorite with his bare paws, ignoring the heat.
"Now that we have achieved our goal, perhaps we can return to camp to further study it," he suggests. "Barring any more attempts to claim the whole of it, of course."
This he says with his usual straight, stoic face, though perhaps there is something beneath the stoicism that is too much like... humor.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Nov 14, 2008 10:55:49 GMT -6
"Agreed." Thane barks as he turns his head back toward the camp. His first steps are slow and careful over the craggy glass. Soon he is walking a steady pace back to the camp site. The metal slowly cools in his hands from the exposure to the air. Before long the meteor looks like a burnt metal rock in his paw.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Nov 21, 2008 10:14:28 GMT -6
The trek back to the camp is long and not nearly as interesting as the hunt for the star stone.
"I have the tools we will need to divide that nice hunk of meteor metal. This should fetch a handsome price in the city."
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Dec 3, 2008 13:17:38 GMT -6
Thane carries the stone back to the wagon and he sets it in the sands to cool. The Newts look at them in the bewilderment of the odd smells of the meteor.
"So how do we split it?" Thane says looking at it in wonder.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Dec 3, 2008 19:20:02 GMT -6
"By weight," Lysandor suggests, eyeing the meteorite. "We can weigh it, then split it accordingly. In that way, we can be sure that no party gets more than the other should a part be more dense than another..."
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Dec 23, 2008 11:45:21 GMT -6
"I agree handsome, I got a scale in my wagon... um. I'll get it." The demonling says hesitantly. She scurries off to get her scale and returns hauling it to the work bench that lowers on the side of the wagon. She mumbles a catch phrase and the side peals away from the wagon by the enchantment. Her work bench displays in a hurry. She sets the scale down and motions for Thane to bring the stone to split.
"Set it here please and lets see how much it weighs."
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Dec 23, 2008 12:14:57 GMT -6
Thane places the sizable chunk of star metal on the scale. He backs away as he watches the needle shoot about on the dial of weight. It stops at about 30 killos. "Hum, It did not feel that heavy..." Thane says looking oddly at the scale. "I fear your scale is unbalanced."
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Dec 24, 2008 16:00:34 GMT -6
Lysandor watches the proceedings, and feels a faint, barely-there smirk cross as Thane suggests that Pacsha's scales are imbalanced. He could think of few of his previous acquaintance whom Thane would be more abrasive to, and none who would stand for it.
The Fallen makes his way to the workbench to ensure that another spat doesn't break out. A mental chuckle barely shows on his expression as he finds himself assuming the role of a rather lax referee between the two demons.
"Perhaps it is that you were still caught in the wave of adrenaline from the race, Master Thane?" Lysandor suggests. He turns his attention to the scales as well, inspecting them, but keeping his attention on the Demonling woman.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jan 1, 2009 11:47:10 GMT -6
Thane looks to Pascha with scorn in his red eyes. "Beware lady treachery played against the Elite is not met with kindness nor mercy." He says with a growl. "It becomes clear as to why you prefer solitude as none rightly wish to commune with thieves and charlatans."
Thane bellows as his temper flares. His massive fist descends on the work bench sending tools, the scale, the weights and the meteor to the sands at their feet. "You have been hiding something from us since we stepped foot into your camp. You stink of fear and tremble with secrets. What are you hiding from us Pascha? Master Lysandor and I both know you are up to something. What are you trying to conceal from the Elite Praetorian Guard?"
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jan 10, 2009 7:23:55 GMT -6
Though Lysandor does not completely agree with Thane's chosen method, he can't help but silently echo the Rachet's questions to himself. He moves slightly, just in case Pascha decides to make a run for it.
"Master Thane is right," Lysandor says softly. "You are hiding something." He lets his awareness extend further outside of their camp, never letting his eyes of the Demonling. "Were we in the City, or even in one of the villages or towns, I might ignore your dodging, but this is too remote an area for a chance encounter, and I do not trust it. If you are hiding something from us, Pascha, it would be better for you to reveal it now..." His expression hardens into something more stern, and more cold. "I have always honored the few I call friend... do not force me into something that might damage our relationship, Pascha."
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jan 18, 2009 12:28:52 GMT -6
The demoness looks cornered and her surprise at thane's outburst turns to anger in an instant. "I don't care if you were the host itself coming with the wrath of judgment day sonny, you have no call for your snotty behavior nor have the audacity of accusing your host of any ill lest you have more than your misguided snobbery to say otherwise. Of all the flea bitten parlor rugs you have to be the one to land in my camp and accuse me of robbery... you, you loud, ill tempered... OUTLANDER!"
A slight and distinctly familiar chiming sound starts out low and steady under the Demonlings rant. Soon a stream of voices can be heard distinctly beneath the raging scream of Pascha's voice. She is using her raging display is more of a cover for the noise coming from her wagon than showing the elite she is boss... Either way she is desperate to try to hide the sounds emanating from behind her carriage.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jan 28, 2009 10:46:33 GMT -6
Thane looks like he is about to explode. His claws poise for a death blow as his ears twitch to the faint tinging chime. He looks to Lysandor as he brushes Pascha out of his way with a broad stroke of the back his massive paw. The swooping brush of his paw in his agitated state plants her firmly in the sand on her bottom.
"Out of my way, irritating woman."
He barks as he moves to the sand pile at the base of the huge rock. His nose sniffs as the sand as he looks on in curiosity. The chime tones again as his ears snap forward. "Is that what I think it is Master Lysandor?" Thane says hesitantly as he stares at the little mound of soil and back to Pascha with a condemning look in his red eyes.
|
|