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Old 05-28-2016, 03:06 AM
Jotei Jotei is offline

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Default Tekilia Pu'Tang's Truly Inspiring Traveler's Saga:Bitten! Pu'Tang into the Mists

Tekilia Pu'Tang's Truly Inspiring Traveler's Saga:Bitten! Pu'Tang into the Mists

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Tekilia Pu'Tang

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Tekilia Pu'Tang, Grand Master of Quellious, Heir to the Throne of the Pu'Tang Empire
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Old 05-28-2016, 03:07 AM
Jotei Jotei is offline

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Default Bitten! Pu'Tang into the Mists

Bitten! Pu'Tang into the Mists

If the Greater Faydark was shroud in the deep shade of its dense canopy, the Lesser Faydark was shroud in the numbing grey haze of its ever present fog. It was not nearly as dark, but the visibility was no better for it thanks to the incessant mist. The forest sang with life unlike the quiet hallow of the Greater Faydark. Insects chirped and things lurked, just beyond sight. Shapeless shadows shifted in the sea of swirling mists.

It was unsettling and if one was not careful, maddening. Phantom shapes danced just beyond view, deceptively toying with the mind. Tekilia had seen signs of orcs at least once, but never saw any orcs themselves. Several times she could have sworn she'd seen tiny brown men, no larger than her foot. She no longer acknowledged the brightly colored butterflies that seemed to appear out of nothingness, out of thin, or perhaps more accurately here thick air! Tekilia chuckled to herself, but wasn't entirely sure why. The mists were wearing on her.

Once the budding insanity had even made her think she'd seen a unicorn! Just as suddenly as it had emerged from the haze, it had disappeared back into it. She'd stood awestruck for several minutes, staring dumbly into the nothingness as the sinister mist deposited tiny droplets of water atop the masterful shelf her new Wu's Fighting Halter had forged of her prodigious bosom. Snapping out of the trance, Tekilia continued on her way, sending the pooling water droplets cascading into the abyss of her cleavage.

She'd spent the better part of a day wandering the mists of the Lesser Faydark and twice found herself in the Steamfont. It was maddening. She was looking for the Castle Mistmoore of course. Following her conquest of Clan Crushbone and the subsequent festivities in Kelethin (she'd been corrected in a rather embarassing exchange with an attractive young elf), information pointed her to the accursed estate.

Tekilia had been pleased not only with her elimination of the orc menace, but also the devastating blow she'd dealt the wretched dark elves of Neriak in D'Vinn's death. She'd looted his dirk, as a memento of course, nothing more. She had no love for blades. They were messy weapons and efficacy hinged far too greatly on regular maintenance. D'Vinn's dirk wa swell kept and had recently received a new edge. A crisp engraving near the halft bore a peculiar crest speaking quietly to the source of that servicing. The script was entirely foregin to Tekilia, but she'd assumed it to be some form of elvish given its circumstance.

She'd strapped the blade to her thight and stopped by Kelethin the night she'd slain D'Vinn with plans only to replenish her supplies before setting out for Dagnar's Cauldron in search of the lost Estate of Unrest.The Fates wove other plans though. Several chance encounters and a series of exchanged favors later, she'd learned far more of the blade than she might have wished to know. The implications were troubling and they weighed heavily on Tekilia. She spent a solid day in meditation, but her burden was no lighter for it, so on the fourth night of the week-long celebration following the fall of Clan Crushbone, she joined in the merrymaking.

She let herself go, smothering her fears with liquor and whores. Tekilia was flabbergasted to learn that nearly half of all wood elves were male, though they were virtually indistinguishable from females in almost all regards. She gave up trying to differentiate the two, surmising she'd have better luck identifying crows. Interestingly, the wood elves themselves didn't often fair much better than Tekilia and embraced the same care-free strategy.

Tekilia's head pounded. She couldn't recall much from her scattered memory of the past three days beyond a few delightful fragments staunchly visible even through the opaque veil of inebriated bliss. Tekilia smiled to herself. Aside from grossly overdue payment the wine and spirits of the last three days now collected, she felt great. She'd locate the Castle Mistmoore and exterminate its vile bloodsucking residents.

And so it was for three days that Tekilia Pu'Tang, Butcher of Crushbone, Savior of Faydark, Defender of Freeport, Master Fister, Wearer of Fine Pants, Heir to the Throne of the Pu'Tang Empire wandered the shifting mists of the Lesser Faydark in search of the Castle Mistmoore.
Tekilia Pu'Tang, Grand Master of Quellious, Heir to the Throne of the Pu'Tang Empire
Old 05-28-2016, 05:16 AM
Shrubwise Shrubwise is offline
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